Tag: Historical Fiction

Review: Yale Village, Appalachia by L. Gale

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Synopsis:

In the year 1784 romance blossoms in unexpected places on the frontier. Kentucky is still part of Virginia and the First Nations clash with pioneers in the struggle to settle western Appalachia while the newly forming United States is established. Follow key members of the backwater village of Yale, Kentucky before its history was committed to paper and before it was intentionally submerged to create a lake. In spite of real and ever-present dangers, several love stories are woven together in and around the village, including two inter-racial marriages between Shawnee tribal members and Christian settlers who encounter them, as spiritual traditions are explored and means of survival are found in the face of mounting social and geographical tensions.

Favorite Lines:

“Great Spirit can seem far away sometimes…but may be closer than we realize.”

“It was the most thrilling thing that I’ve ever experienced, as well as the most devastating to lose. I guess the two go hand in hand.”

“Then, too, contemporary explorers might drift off to sleep in a canoe to the soothing churning of the first grist mill wheel in the waters of the Licking River, and find themselves transported back in time in their own dreams of the humble village of Yale as it once was in the hearts of those who survived and thrived there.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

There is something fascinating about the idea of an entire town disappearing beneath the water, especially when so much of its history has already been lost to time. In Yale Village, Appalachia, L. Gale takes that idea and imagines what life might have looked like for the people who first settled Yale, Kentucky, in the late 1700s, long before the community was eventually submerged beneath what is now Cave Run Lake.

The story begins in 1784, when Yale is still a small frontier settlement made up of tents, log cabins, and people trying to build something resembling a permanent home. When stonemason Tom Donathan arrives with plans to construct a much-needed gristmill, it sets the stage for a story that follows the growth of the village and the lives of the people who call it home.

Rather than focusing on one central character or a single overarching conflict, the book follows several members of the community as they navigate everything from marriages and childbirth to religious gatherings, dangerous encounters, and the everyday challenges of frontier life. I particularly enjoyed how much attention was given to the smaller details of establishing a settlement. Things like building a mill, organizing a school, preparing for winter, and gathering together for celebrations might not sound especially exciting on their own, but they help give the village a sense of life and personality.

One of the more interesting storylines involves Kahkwehsée, a young Shawnee man who eventually becomes known as Perry. His experiences introduce a different perspective on the frontier, particularly when it comes to the tensions between settlers and Native Americans. I appreciated that the author made an effort to explore the relationships between these communities rather than treating the settlement’s history as exclusively that of its European inhabitants. Perry’s relationship with Jack Fortier was especially memorable, and their growing sense of family brought some of the more touching moments to the story.

There is also quite a bit of romance woven throughout the book. I enjoyed the developing relationship between Dr. Emmett Clay and Sadie Roberts, especially the rather amusing circumstances surrounding their courtship. The village gossip and everyone’s concern over what is considered proper behavior provide some lighter moments, and I liked how these relationships helped break up the more historical portions of the narrative.

That being said, this is definitely a book that leans heavily into its historical details. There are frequent references to real people, locations, religious practices, and events, and at times the writing feels more like a historical account than a traditional novel. While I found much of that information interesting, there were moments when I wished the author had spent a little less time explaining the history and a little more time developing the characters and their emotions. Some of the dialogue also felt a bit formal, which made it harder to become fully immersed in certain scenes.

I think the book works best when viewed as a fictional reconstruction of a community rather than a story driven by suspense or dramatic twists. There is a lot of emphasis on cooperation, faith, family, and the determination required to make a life in an unfamiliar and often dangerous place. The changing seasons and community traditions also give the story a comfortable, almost nostalgic feeling, even when the circumstances themselves are anything but easy.

What stayed with me most was the premise behind the book. Knowing that Yale eventually disappeared beneath the waters of a man-made lake gives the story an underlying sense of sadness. All of the ordinary moments that make up the lives of these fictional villagers, from weddings and Christmas celebrations to the construction of their homes, feel a little more meaningful when you remember that the physical place they are building will one day be gone.

Summary:

Overall, Yale Village, Appalachia is an interesting blend of historical fiction, community storytelling, and imagined local history. While the slower pacing and abundance of historical information may not appeal to everyone, I appreciated the author’s attempt to give a forgotten community a sense of identity and bring its early inhabitants to life. Readers who enjoy slower-paced historical fiction, Appalachian history, pioneer settlements, and stories centered around small communities will likely appreciate this one. Happy reading!

Check out Yale Village, Appalachia here!

 

Review: Crossingsbrook Georgians by L. Gale

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

In Crossingsbrook Georgians: the crossingsbrook series prequel, the back-story is told to the series, explaining how the Reverend and Clara James met, how Dr. Walton and Lady Greenfield met, the impacts of war and loss on Victor’s youth and young adulthood, the childhood friendship of Beatrice and Clara, and Beatrice’s experiences raising children that were not hers by birth. Also featured is a romantic episode between a freed slave and a free-born individual. Readers discover some of the better medical treatments available at the turn of the 19th Century, and the psychological impact that astronomical events may have had on ordinary individuals, if only by the power of suggestion. This novella fills in seventeen years, or nearly a generation, of the early lives of some of the key Crossingsbrook villagers, and introduces others who will have larger roles to play later in the series. All is told against a backdrop of the impacts of technology, legislation and cultural developments in Britain of the time.

Favorite Lines:

“After all, we’re entering the modern era now, and many people consider affection between a couple to be more important than the marriage of bank accounts and bloodlines.”

“When Victor left to return to school, Constance temporarily ruined the dog in his absence by dressing him up often in doll clothes, such that when his master returned for Eastertide and summertime of 1804, a good many hunts were required to recover the canine’s sense of masculinity.”

“Though the comet apparently did not end the world, it might have been said to have coincided with the ending of the old earth…”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Crossingsbrook Georgians is one of those historical novels that is less interested in sweeping drama than in making you feel like you’ve been dropped into the everyday life of a small community. And honestly, I think that’s where it works best.

The story begins in 1798 with Lady Clara Godfrey, the daughter of a bishop who has been promised since childhood to another young bishop, Bernard Bartholomew. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Bernard is exactly the sort of man you’d hope Clara doesn’t end up marrying. He’s irritable, self-important, and generally unpleasant to have around. Clara’s father’s household staff seem to agree, and their efforts to make his visit as uncomfortable as possible give the opening chapters a surprisingly funny, slightly mischievous energy.

But the heart of the story quickly becomes Clara and Theodore “Theo” James, her father’s chaplain and secretary. Their relationship has a very gentle quality to it. These are two people who already know each other well and genuinely like one another, so their connection feels rooted in friendship and familiarity rather than instant attraction. Theo is also much more interested in actually serving people than in climbing the church hierarchy, which eventually brings Crossingsbrook itself into the center of the story.

And Crossingsbrook really does become a character of its own.

Once the story settles into the village, the book expands into something closer to a family and community chronicle. We see parish life, births and marriages, funerals, holidays, dinners, church gatherings, household routines and the small dramas that come from living in a place where everyone knows everyone else. There are even things like a village magic lantern show and excitement over early steam transportation, which I enjoyed because they make the historical setting feel lived in rather than simply decorative.

The Greenfield family becomes especially important as the book progresses. After tragedy strikes Greenfield Hall, Lady Beatrice steps into a family situation she wasn’t exactly prepared for, including caring for young Victor and his baby sister. Victor’s grief is handled with more patience than I expected. He’s angry and somewhat wild at first, and the adults around him don’t immediately try to force him into behaving as though nothing happened. His friendship with the newly arrived Dr. Rex Walton is particularly sweet and becomes an important source of stability for him.

Beatrice was probably one of the more entertaining characters for me. She’s proper and particular, but not nearly as stuffy as she initially seems. Her interactions with Rex add another little thread of romantic tension, while her attempts to figure out how to suddenly become responsible for two children give her some much needed vulnerability.

There’s also a longstanding feud between the Greenfields and Fairhavens running quietly through the background. I liked that the book doesn’t immediately turn this into some huge melodramatic conflict. Instead, you start noticing little cracks in the wall between the families, particularly as the younger generation grows up. By the later portion of the book, you can pretty clearly see how these relationships and old grudges are laying groundwork for whatever comes next in the Crossingsbrook series.

One thing readers should know going in is that this isn’t really structured like a conventional historical romance with one central couple and one major conflict driving everything toward a climax. It’s much more episodic. Years pass, children grow up, people leave for school, historical events creep into village life, families change, and characters who seemed secondary earlier become increasingly important. In that sense, it really does feel like a prequel. Its job is to introduce the families, relationships, history and little bits of baggage that will matter later.

There’s also quite a lot of historical detail woven throughout. Religion plays a particularly large role because Theo is a clergyman and Clara is a bishop’s daughter, but the book also touches on education, class, household servants, medicine, technology, politics, village traditions and changing social attitudes. Occasionally the historical information becomes more prominent than the plot itself, so readers who want a fast, tightly plotted story may find the pacing leisurely. But if you’re someone who likes the everyday details of another era, there’s a lot here to enjoy.

What I liked most was probably the sense of continuity. You aren’t just watching one romance happen. You’re watching a community take shape across years. People marry, have children, lose people they love, grow older and gradually hand more of the story over to the next generation. By the end, characters we first encountered as children are moving into adulthood with histories and relationships that already feel established. It makes Crossingsbrook Georgians feel less like a standalone adventure and more like opening an old family album and finally learning the stories behind all the people in it.

Summary: Overall, Crossingsbrook Georgians is a gentle, character driven Georgian historical novel that follows several interconnected families in the village of Crossingsbrook beginning in the late 1790s. There’s romance, family life, grief, village gossip, religion, old family rivalries and a surprising amount of everyday historical detail. Readers who enjoy gentle, character driven historical fiction where the pleasure comes from spending time in a community and watching relationships develop over years, rather than racing through a single dramatic plot may enjoy this book. Happy reading!

Check out Crossingsbrook Georgians here!

 

Review: A Cakewalk to Memphis by Brenda C. Wilson

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

In the sweltering summer of 1958, the Jim Crow South is a landscape defined by danger, secrecy, and the need to survive.

A Cakewalk to Memphis, the debut novel by Charlotte-based author Brenda Wilson, follows Big Sallie Morning, a determined Black cleaning woman from Memphis who becomes caught up in a desperate search for her pregnant niece’s missing husband. What starts as a personal mission quickly turns into a dangerous journey across a segregated South, where each bus stop presents new risks and every encounter holds hidden significance.

Big Sallie is a force of nature. Intelligent, observant, and shaped by a past she has never fully escaped, she navigates a world of smoky nightclubs, backroom gambling halls, bootlegging routes, and counterfeit schemes operating just beneath everyday life. As she seeks answers, she is also forced to confront buried parts of her own history, including the reputation that follows her from town to town.

Brenda Wilson vividly details the era with rich Southern textures. The novel moves through dry county beer joints with deceptively cheerful names, crowded juke joints where blues music carries both joy and sorrow, and a society defined by strict racial boundaries and constant danger. Each setting reveals another layer of a world where survival depends on quick thinking, tough choices, and knowing when to speak up or remain silent.

Inspired by family stories, including an aunt who was jailed in the 1940s and a cousin who became a blues singer, Wilson weaves personal history into a broader story of resilience and reckoning. Cakewalk to Memphis is a compelling historical novel about one woman’s journey through a fractured time and the strong pull of truth, memory, and responsibility.

Favorite Lines:

“Folks talked. There wasn’t much else in small towns except work, church, and gossip.”

“A woman has the right to some secrets.”

“She knew women who were willing to do anything to keep a man. But it was loneliness and the absence of love. The lucky ones learned that it was sorrow masquerading as love before it was too late.”

“I chose who I wanted to be.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

A Cakewalk to Memphis hooked me pretty quickly because Big Sallie Morning is such a great character to follow. She’s stubborn, funny, suspicious of basically everyone, deeply religious but not exactly saintly, and carrying around enough regret to fill the battered bag she takes with her across Alabama.

The story is set in 1958 and follows Sallie as she leaves Memphis to track down Tony Earley, the missing husband of her pregnant niece, Rebecca. Sallie already doesn’t trust Tony, and she has a very personal reason for being terrified that Rebecca is about to repeat the mistakes she made when she was young. Twenty years earlier, Sallie went looking for her own husband after he disappeared and that decision ended with her serving ten years in prison. So when Rebecca becomes desperate to find Tony, Sallie decides she’s going to get to him first.

I loved that this isn’t really a straightforward “find the missing husband” story. Sallie’s search takes her into juke joints, boarding houses, gambling, whiskey running, blues clubs and some genuinely dangerous situations. Pretty early on, she realizes Tony hasn’t simply wandered off. He’s tangled up with people who have money, secrets, and very little interest in a middle-aged woman from Memphis asking questions.

But the mystery was almost secondary for me because Sallie herself is so interesting. She is constantly judging everyone else’s bad choices while very clearly trying to outrun her own. She’s found religion, stopped drinking, traded her old clothes for church dresses, and would very much like to believe the woman she used to be no longer exists. Except that woman keeps showing up. Sometimes literally, when Sallie finds herself back in places and around people that remind her exactly who she once was. Her friendship with Annabelle especially brings that out because Annabelle knew her before she was “saved” and isn’t particularly interested in letting Sallie rewrite history.

There’s also a really interesting generational piece to the story. Sallie thinks she’s protecting Rebecca, but a lot of what she’s doing is actually about trying to prevent her niece from becoming her. That creates this tension between wanting to save someone you love and realizing that you can’t make their choices for them. Sallie’s past marriage, her prison sentence, her relationship with her family, and even the things she has never told Rebecca keep circling back into the present.

The setting is another huge strength. This book feels very rooted in Memphis and rural Alabama in the late 1950s. You get buses and railroad towns, dusty roads, church fans, rooming houses, jukeboxes, blues singers, cheap beer, cigarette smoke, cotton fields and neon spilling out of juke joints. There’s music running through the whole thing too, with blues and jazz becoming part of the atmosphere rather than just historical name dropping. At the same time, the book never lets you forget how dangerous this particular journey is for a Black woman traveling alone in the Jim Crow South. Sallie’s awareness of where she can go, who she can trust, and when she needs to keep her head down is always sitting underneath the story.

I also appreciated that Sallie isn’t written to be endlessly admirable. She lies. She steals. She meddles. She carries knives around and has a slightly alarming willingness to use them. She can be judgmental and hypocritical, and she has a habit of convincing herself she’s doing things entirely for somebody else’s benefit when guilt is obviously pushing her just as hard. But that messiness is exactly why she worked for me. She feels like someone who has lived a whole life before page one.

The book does get a little busy once more characters and old relationships start coming into the story. There were moments where I had to remind myself who was connected to whom, and some of the plot developments get pretty dramatic. But I was invested enough in Sallie that I didn’t mind much. The larger question of whether she can actually protect Rebecca without first dealing with her own past kept the story grounded for me.

Summary:

Overall, A Cakewalk to Memphis feels like historical fiction crossed with a Southern mystery, with a little noir and a lot of family drama mixed in. It’s funny in places, genuinely tense in others, and much more interested in complicated women than perfect ones. Sallie’s journey starts as an attempt to find one missing man, but underneath that is a story about guilt, faith, motherhood, secrets, and how difficult it is to keep the people you love from making mistakes of their own. Readers who enjoy Southern historical fiction, strong older female protagonists, family secrets, historical mysteries, blues and Memphis settings, and books about complicated women trying to make peace with who they used to be may enjoy this one. Happy reading!

Check out A Cakewalk to Memphis here!

 

Review: A Heart That’s True by Mark Guillerman

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

When all is taken, what remains?

In 1912, twelve-year-old Joseph Cross and his cousin Elizabeth White Cloud are torn from the foothills of Montana and sent across the country to the Carlisle Indian School, where children are stripped of their language, their traditions, and even their names.

Separated from home and forced into a world that sees them as something to be remade, Joseph and White Cloud must learn to survive in ways they never imagined. They face loneliness, danger, and a system determined to erase who they are. Yet through friendship, courage, and the teachings of their people, they begin to discover a strength no one can take from them.

Where courage walks, the spirit follows.

Along the way, their journey becomes intertwined with the legend of Big Black, a powerful wolf whose story mirrors their own struggle to belong in a world that fears what it does not understand.

A Heart That’s True is a moving and unforgettable story of resilience, identity, and the unbreakable bond between family, culture, and spirit. Inspired by real historical events, this novel shines a light on a chapter of history that must never be forgotten—and celebrates the courage to remain true to who you are.

Favorite Lines:

“The human spirit will never die in a heart that’s true.”

“The smell of the fresh morning air was strong medicine for Joseph.”

“Her grandfather had taught her many things in her young life, and one thing stood out: always remember and learn from her past.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion. 

A Heart That’s True is historical fiction that takes on a part of American history that is incredibly difficult to read about, but important to remember. The story follows twelve-year-old Joseph Cross, a Lakota boy taken from his home in Montana and sent across the country to the Carlisle Indian Industrial School. Before he leaves, his grandfather gives him a piece of advice that basically becomes the heart of the entire book: no matter what happens to him, he has to hold onto who he is.

I think what worked best for me was that the book doesn’t only focus on the cruelty of Carlisle itself. A lot of the story is really about Joseph’s fear of losing his identity. There’s a moment before he even reaches the school where he meets an older Native student who has already adopted the clothing, speech, and mannerisms expected of him, and Joseph is genuinely terrified by what he sees. He’s been warned that people will try to “wash” his spirit away, and suddenly he understands what that might actually look like. That fear follows him throughout the book and makes even some of the quieter parts of his time at Carlisle feel unsettling.

Joseph’s relationship with his cousin White Cloud was another part I really liked. They’re separated after arriving at Carlisle, but their connection to each other and to their grandfather gives the story an emotional anchor. White Cloud is also a compelling character on her own. She’s older, more guarded, and much more aware of what is happening to them, while Joseph still has a little bit of childhood innocence left.

And then there’s Big Black, who honestly ended up being one of my favorite parts of the book. He’s a huge black wolf/Newfoundland mix Joseph meets during the journey east, and their immediate connection initially seems like a sweet little break in an otherwise bleak situation. But Big Black becomes much more important than that. Joseph connects him to Lakousa, the Wolf King from one of his grandfather’s stories, and the wolf becomes tied to this larger idea of home, freedom, and the part of Joseph that Carlisle can’t take away. I really liked how that storyline brought a slightly mythical feeling into what is otherwise pretty grounded historical fiction.

There are also quite a few real historical figures and events worked into the story. Jim Thorpe has a particularly meaningful role rather than just popping up for the sake of having a recognizable name. His quiet friendship with Joseph becomes another source of encouragement for him, especially when Joseph is able to tell the stories his grandfather taught him instead of being ashamed of them. I thought those scenes were some of the strongest because they show resistance in a much quieter way. Joseph isn’t necessarily making some huge rebellious stand. Sometimes simply remembering and telling his people’s stories is the rebellion.

I did think the writing could be a little heavy on historical explanation at times. There are sections where the story pauses to give quite a bit of background on people, places, and events.. At the same time, I understand why so much context was included, especially because Carlisle and the broader history surrounding Indian boarding schools may be unfamiliar to some readers.

Summary:

Overall, A Heart That’s True is a moving story about identity, family, survival, and refusing to let someone else decide who you are. There are some genuinely painful parts, but there is also a surprising amount of warmth in Joseph’s relationships with White Cloud, Big Black, and the people who show him kindness along the way. It isn’t necessarily a light historical fiction read, but it has a lot of heart. I’d recommend this to readers who enjoy American historical fiction, coming-of-age stories, books about Indigenous history and boarding schools, animal-human bonds, and stories centered around resilience, family, and finding your way home. Happy reading!

Check out A Heart That’s True here!

 

Review: Echoes of a Wild Girl’s Drum by Tiffini Johnson

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

I was seven when they tied me to the stake.

They wanted me to burn, burn, burn like Nángi. I threw blackjack petals in her ashes, but not even the strongest herbs can make dead mothers come back. Nobody threw blackjack petals for me, but when my turn came, a boy broke rhythm for me instead — the village drummer, the Commander’s ward — and he was scarred for it.

So I ran. Into the forest, into the dark. I learned to sleep where nothing could find me and eat what the forest gave and trust tree kangaroos and cuscuses before people. I forgot almost everything — except the boy who cut me loose from the stake. Except the tree where we carved a spiral with hair and blood and a poem nobody knows. Except the night we climbed so high the whole sky cracked open and I told him there were a million hundred stars. Except our beat — tap boom tap, tap boom boom tap — that belongs to no one else in the world. He was the only thing I kept.

Women burn in this village. They burn for sick children. For failed crops. For the herbs they keep. Some are tired. Some are angry. Some pass secrets. But I didn’t decide to come back. Something small needed me to.

And now they know: the witch’s daughter didn’t die twelve summers ago.

I know the sound the drum makes before whispers spread like fire.
The air already smells like smoke.

Only now the boy who once broke the rhythm is a man.
And I am no longer seven years old.

Favorite Lines:

“We are strong. We are brave. We are women.”

“The wind blows against my skin while my heart beats fast. In my head, I imagine tapping against the drum, keeping the pressure of the beat just so. The first time I played the Heartbeat and people spilled out into the streets, opened their shops, hitched wagons, and began their day, I felt it. Power. The drumbeat gave the village the knowledge that it was time to begin a new day. The drumbeat acts as the village’s sun. I am the village’s sun. And now I will learn to be its moon.”

“I’m talking in circles, jumping from one thing to the next, just like Salu, but you said spirals lead us home. You are my home. Listen to me.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

This is one of those books that grabs you from the first few pages and really doesn’t let go. The opening is heartbreaking, but it’s also the kind of scene that tells you exactly what kind of story you’re stepping into. It’s heavy, emotional, and not afraid to sit with uncomfortable realities.

The story is set in the Highlands of Papua New Guinea, and that setting never felt like just a backdrop. It becomes part of everything, from the traditions and village life to the way the characters understand the world around them. I especially loved how the drum wasn’t just an instrument. It became a language, a responsibility, and a symbol that carried so much meaning throughout the novel. The cultural details felt woven naturally into the story instead of stopping everything to explain them.

I was a really big fan of the dual perspectives. Seeing the world through young Soryelle’s eyes is absolutely devastating because of her innocence. She notices smells, sounds, plants, animals, and little moments that make the tragedy around her hit even harder. On the other side, Maikel’s chapters add a completely different layer as he wrestles with duty, tradition, and what kind of man he wants to become. Watching those two perspectives slowly build toward each other kept me invested the entire time.

The writing itself is very sensory. You can practically smell the smoke from the mumu fires, hear the rhythm of the drums, and picture the forests and mountains. At times it almost reads like someone telling you a story around a fire rather than a traditional historical novel, which fit the atmosphere really well.

This is definitely not an easy read though so get ready to cry. Johnson doesn’t shy away from trauma, grief, or the lasting effects of violence, and there were several scenes that were difficult to get through emotionally. At the same time, the book never felt hopeless. Underneath all of the pain is a story about resilience, healing, connection, and choosing compassion over fear. Even some of the quieter moments between characters carried just as much emotional weight as the bigger ones.

Summary: 

Overall, this was a beautifully written and emotionally powerful novel that stayed with me long after I finished it. It’s the kind of book that asks difficult questions about humanity while still leaving room for hope. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoy emotional historical fiction, character-driven stories, literary fiction, and novels that explore resilience, culture, and hope after unimaginable loss. 

You can find the book trailer here
Check out Echoes of a Wild Girl’s Drum here!

 

Review: Greet Suzon for me by Vince Rockston

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

The year is 1686. King Louis XIV’s dragoons arrive in Alençon. Their mission: to brutally eradicate the Huguenot faith.

The d’Albert family’s flight is shattered when marshals ambush their wagon, seizing the father. Now, the fate of his family rests on young Gédéon. He must navigate treacherous, hostile lands, protect his mother and ailing sister, and find a boat to take them to the safe shores of Jersey.

Favorite Lines:

“A servant is not greater than his master.”

“Let’s leave that in the Lord’s hands’ – Did I really say that?”

“Can’t we each take responsibility for our own lives?”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Greet Suzon for me is one of those historical novels that feels very grounded in ordinary people’s lives rather than grand political spectacle, even though huge historical events are constantly shaping everything around the characters. The story follows young Gédéon d’Albert and his Huguenot family in late seventeenth-century France during the escalating persecution of Protestants under Louis XIV. What surprised me most was how intimate the novel feels despite the historical scale. The religious oppression, arrests, threats, and growing danger are all there, but Rockston filters most of it through family life, friendships, travel, worship gatherings, and the perspective of a teenage boy trying to understand a world that suddenly feels unstable.

The opening chapters are honestly very strong. The attack on the Huguenot temple immediately establishes the fear hanging over these communities, but what gives the scene weight is how personal it feels through Gédéon’s eyes. He’s angry, impulsive, confused about why people who claim to follow God hate each other so much, and still young enough to swing between childish revenge fantasies and genuine spiritual questions. I liked that he doesn’t come across as unrealistically noble. He acts like an actual teenager growing up inside a frightening political and religious climate. His relationships with his sisters, especially Madeleine, also help soften the heavier material and give the story warmth.

One thing the book does very well is atmosphere. Rockston clearly did a huge amount of historical research, but unlike some historical fiction that reads like a textbook in disguise, this novel usually folds the details naturally into the story. The secret Protestant meetings, the courier missions, the coded greetings, the fear of informants, the stories of pastors disappearing into prison or slavery on galleys — all of it creates a believable sense of danger without feeling overly dramatized. I especially enjoyed the travel sections because they make seventeenth-century France feel alive. Forests, villages, river barges, ports, safe houses, marketplaces, and isolated farms all become part of the experience.

The emotional core of the novel, though, is really about faith, loyalty, and responsibility. Gédéon slowly realizes that the adults around him may not be able to protect him forever, and that shift gives the story more emotional depth as it progresses. His growing awareness of political reality feels believable because it happens gradually. The book also spends a lot of time exploring how persecution changes families and communities, not just physically but emotionally. Some people flee, some compromise, some resist quietly, and others cling harder to faith because it is the only thing left that feels stable.

The biggest thing readers should know going in is that this is a slower, character-driven historical novel rather than an action-heavy adventure. There are tense moments and real danger, but the pacing is deliberate. The dialogue and narration occasionally feel a little formal, which honestly fits the setting most of the time, though there were places where conversations sounded more polished than natural. Still, I appreciated how sincere the book felt. Rockston clearly cares deeply about the historical reality of the Huguenots and the human cost of religious persecution, and that passion comes through on nearly every page.

Summary:

Overall, Greet Suzon for me is a thoughtful historical novel about a Huguenot family trying to survive increasing persecution in seventeenth-century France under Louis XIV. Through the perspective of teenage Gédéon, the story explores faith, family loyalty, exile, fear, and growing political oppression. The book balances detailed historical research with emotional family-centered storytelling and strong atmosphere. Readers who enjoy slower historical fiction, religious history, coming-of-age stories, or novels about resilience during persecution will probably connect strongly with it. Fans of character-focused historical fiction rather than battle-heavy epics will likely enjoy this most. Happy reading!

Check out Greet Suzon for me here!

 

Review: The Amalfi Secret by Dean and Catherine Reineking

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

When Gabe Roslo arrives in Amalfi, Italy, a long-awaited reunion with his grandparents takes a tragic turn. His beloved grandfather is dead—and a cryptic diary left behind is Gabe’s only clue to the mystery surrounding his sudden death. But what starts as a personal tragedy quickly spirals into a high-stakes international puzzle.

Teaming up with Anna, a resourceful Roman local, Gabe follows a trail of hidden truths that stretches from the stunning Amalfi coast to the corridors of global power. Secret codes, powerful enemies, and a legacy of deception pull them into a world where nothing is as it seems. With each twist, they are forced to question their allies and uncover dark secrets that could shift the global balance of power.

But as the walls close in, Gabe and Anna must risk everything to expose the truth before it’s buried forever. Will they decipher the mystery and reveal the sinister forces at play? Or will they become the next victims of The Amalfi Secret?
Perfect for fans of Dan Brown and Robert Ludlum, The Amalfi Secret is a pulse-pounding thriller that will keep you guessing until the final, breathtaking twist.

Favorite Lines:

“She was slight of stature and frail to look at, but he knew from experience that she had an inner strength that would get her through almost any trial.”

“The Italians sure have style. Only  here would someone wear black leather driving gloves.”

“We Italians are more concerned with beauty than perfection.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

The Amalfi Secret is the kind of thriller that sneaks up on you. It starts quietly, almost cinematically, and before you realize it, you’ve been swept into a world of prophecies, politics, and secrets buried deep in the marble corridors of history. The story moves between the present and the past with a rhythm that feels effortless, and even when the stakes climb, the authors manage to keep the human element right where it belongs—at the center. What surprised me most wasn’t the espionage or the religious intrigue, but the emotion underneath it all. It’s a story about love, legacy, and how far people will go to protect the truth.

There’s a gravity to the writing that reminds me of old-school political thrillers, but with more heart. Gabe Roslo is not your typical hero; he’s quietly capable, haunted, and deeply loyal. His grief feels genuine, and his need for answers pulls you along as much as the mystery itself. The story’s backdrop—the cliffs of Amalfi, the solemn air of Rome, the shadowed corners of the Vatican—adds an atmospheric beauty to the unfolding tension. You can almost smell the sea salt and espresso as danger closes in.

I also appreciated that the authors didn’t rush the reveal. They take their time, letting secrets drip out through journal entries, coded mirrors, and the wary exchanges between friends who might not be what they seem. Every conversation feels loaded, every clue slightly out of reach. The pacing builds slowly but deliberately. And just when you think you understand the scope of the story, it widens again—to global conspiracies, ancient orders, and moral choices that test faith and loyalty.

This isn’t just a novel about espionage or religion—it’s about the spaces between them. About belief turned dangerous, power wrapped in prophecy, and how history never stays buried for long. It’s a slow burn that rewards patience and curiosity, a blend of The Da Vinci Code’s intrigue with All the Light We Cannot See’s emotional depth. If you like stories that balance intellect with heart, this one lingers after you close the book.

Summary:

Overall, The Amalfi Secret is a richly layered political and historical thriller that blends mystery, faith, and love against a vivid European backdrop. It’s ideal for readers who enjoy intelligent thrillers, religious or historical mysteries, dual-timeline narratives, and character-driven suspense. Happy reading!

Check out The Amalfi Secret here!

 

Monthly Features – October 2025

~ likelystory18 ~ Leave a comment

Hummingbird Moonrise by Sherri L. Dodd

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: The past two years have taken their toll on Arista Kelly. Once an eternal optimist, now she has faced the darkness and must recalibrate what true happiness means for her. Meanwhile, Shane, her ex-boyfriend, is pulling all the right moves to help keep her sane from her heightening paranoia. But it doesn’t help that Iris, her Great Aunt Bethie’s friend, has disappeared.

Still, one additional trial remains. While searching for Iris, Bethie and Arista stumble upon a grand revelation in the eccentric woman’s home. With the discovery, they realize their run of chaos and loss of kin may have roots in a curse that dates back to the 1940s—the time when their family patriarch first built Arista’s cottage in the redwoods and crafted his insightful Ouija table.

This pursuit will not follow their accustomed recipe of adrenalized action, but the high stakes remain. Will the mysterious slow burn of unfolding events finally level Arista’s entire world or be fully extinguished, once and for all?

Summary: Overall, Hummingbird Moonrise is a paranormal mystery that works because it never loses its human touch. Yes, there are curses, possessions, and supernatural forces, but there’s also cinnamon bread, inside jokes, and the kind of family loyalty that keeps people moving forward even when the odds feel impossible. What I admired most is the way Dodd lets the suspense simmer without sacrificing warmth. The book left me both unsettled and comforted—a rare combination that lingers long after the last page

See the full review here: Hummingbird Moonrise
Purchase here

 

Unborn by Eva Barber

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: Olesya was not born like other people but was found in the Siberian Forest by a couple unable to have children. Plagued by mysterious visions and dreams, she struggles to fit into a society both as a socially inept but brilliant child and as she becomes part of a research team to discover the nature of dark matter. The findings of this discovery never make it to the scientific community as the project leader goes missing and the physics lab blows up, destroyed by a powerful foe with seemingly noble intentions.

Seattle detectives question Olesya in connection with the explosion and the disappearance of her boss. She becomes a person of interest until she herself goes missing. From her kidnappers, she learns that her parents, knowing she lacked a belly button, suspected she was created by the Russian government as part of a scientific experiment, and emigrated to the USA to hide and protect her. She also learns she possesses powers related to dark matter and of the existence of a brother held captive since his discovery by the Russian government. Even though she suspects her kidnappers’ interest in her and their motivations aren’t so noble, she joins them in rescuing her brother. Catastrophic world events following the successful rescue force her to continue working with her foes to save the world from destruction.

While working to save the world, Olesya experiences a moral dilemma and becomes someone she never thought she’d be—a mother. Olesya learns of mysterious chambers scattered around the world, and her visions return to haunt her, until she opens the chambers and learns their secrets, wishing she hadn’t. Now she faces the heart-wrenching realization that she must travel into a dark dimension to save the world from self-destruction. Worse yet, her daughter, Emery, is the key to humanity’s salvation and must follow her mother once she becomes an adult because she is the only being who can travel where no one else can to restore balance to the universe and return with an extraordinary gift for humanity. But powerful entities have reasons to keep the gift away from humanity and will do anything to stop her.

Summary: Overall, Unborn is a haunting, beautiful story about science, motherhood, and the unknowable threads that connect us. It’s the kind of book that lingers quietly after you’ve finished it — the kind that leaves you wondering whether what you just read was speculative fiction or something closer to a modern myth.

If you like stories that mix atmosphere and emotion — think The Time Traveler’s Wife, Never Let Me Go, or The Daughter of Doctor Moreau — you’ll find something to love here. It’s for readers who enjoy a story that makes you think and feel at the same time; readers who don’t mind when mystery lingers even after the answers come. 

See the full review here: Unborn
Purchase here

 

Smoke on the Wind by Syvila Weatherford

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: “Smoke on the Wind” is a captivating tale that weaves the perils and dangers encountered on the Western frontier by Will Lawton, a young Black cowboy, after kidnapping then wedding his young Native American bride, Niabi. He plods a path packed with uncertainty that ultimately winds its way to an unthinkable opportunity – a race for free land.

Follow the characters of Smoke: the beautiful Louisa Ortega, who haunts the memory of the Chief’s son, Nashoba; Captain Horton, head of Fort Townsend, charged with keeping peace between settlers and tribes, and Dakota Sam, a rambunctious Civil War veteran attached to his military blues and backwoodsman ways.

This is the second book in an epic series, following the success of Weatherford’s first novel, “Blessings from the Four Winds.”

In this sequel, new characters are introduced: Liao Ming Chow, a Chinese immigrant, Sargent Thomas of the Buffalo Soldiers, and Mr. Todd Morgan the railroad tycoon. Niabi and Will raise two children and enjoy the protective company of their horses: Rodeo and FireTip. Their journey is marked by resilience, the spirit of community, and the ongoing struggle for safety and belonging.

Summary: Overall, Smoke on the Wind is a vivid continuation of America’s untold stories — where race, heritage, and faith collide. It’s tender and unflinching, full of voices that feel like they’ve been waiting a century to be heard. Weatherford writes history the way it deserves to be written: not as distant fact, but as living memory. For readers who are drawn to immersive, historical fiction.

See the full review here: Smoke on the Wind
Purchase here

 

Review: Smoke on the Wind by Syvila Weatherford

~ likelystory18 ~ 1 Comment

Synopsis:

“Smoke on the Wind” is a captivating tale that weaves the perils and dangers encountered on the Western frontier by Will Lawton, a young Black cowboy, after kidnapping then wedding his young Native American bride, Niabi. He plods a path packed with uncertainty that ultimately winds its way to an unthinkable opportunity – a race for free land.

Follow the characters of Smoke: the beautiful Louisa Ortega, who haunts the memory of the Chief’s son, Nashoba; Captain Horton, head of Fort Townsend, charged with keeping peace between settlers and tribes, and Dakota Sam, a rambunctious Civil War veteran attached to his military blues and backwoodsman ways.

This is the second book in an epic series, following the success of Weatherford’s first novel, “Blessings from the Four Winds.”

In this sequel, new characters are introduced: Liao Ming Chow, a Chinese immigrant, Sargent Thomas of the Buffalo Soldiers, and Mr. Todd Morgan the railroad tycoon. Niabi and Will raise two children and enjoy the protective company of their horses: Rodeo and FireTip. Their journey is marked by resilience, the spirit of community, and the ongoing struggle for safety and belonging.

Favorite Lines:

“For these groups, opportunities do not arise so easily; they are as elusive as smoke on the wind.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Set in the Reconstruction-era South, Weatherford’s novel continues the story begun in Blessings from the Four Winds, but stands firmly on its own as a sweeping, character-driven story about freedom, resilience, and love tested by circumstance.

From the very first pages, the tone is cinematic. You can almost smell the smoke rising from the black stovepipes and hear the soft clatter of boots across wooden floors. The novel shifts between places — from Tennessee ranches to the Indian Territory and the bustling streets of Little Rock — but it never loses its emotional touch. At its heart are Will Lawton, a young Black cowboy determined to carve out a life of his own, and Niabi, the Choctaw woman who becomes his wife. Around them swirl entire communities: families, servants, veterans, and ranchers all carrying their own dreams and burdens in a world still figuring out what freedom really means.

What’s remarkable about Weatherford’s writing is her ability to move between intimacy and scale. A single paragraph might linger on a woman’s quiet act of defiance, then widen out to capture the changing face of a country still reeling from war. Her writing feels deeply researched but never academic — she writes with the rhythm of someone who has listened carefully to how history actually sounded when it was spoken aloud.

There’s also an honesty to how she writes women. Characters like Louisa Ortega, bold and restless, and Harriet Lawton, dignified and determined, feel drawn from real memory. They live with both fear and agency. Weatherford doesn’t romanticize their hardship, but she refuses to flatten them into archetypes. There’s courage in the everyday details — the tightening of a corset, the passing of a letter, the act of speaking when silence would be safer.

The story moves slowly, deliberately, in the way that good historical fiction should. You’re not just reading what happens, you’re living in the space between the moments, feeling how time presses on each character differently. By the time the final chapters arrive, you realize the title isn’t just poetic; it’s prophetic. The past, like smoke, drifts and lingers. It never disappears — it reshapes itself on the wind.

Summary:

Overall, Smoke on the Wind is a vivid continuation of America’s untold stories — where race, heritage, and faith collide. It’s tender and unflinching, full of voices that feel like they’ve been waiting a century to be heard. Weatherford writes history the way it deserves to be written: not as distant fact, but as living memory. For readers who are drawn to immersive, historical fiction. Happy reading!

Check out Smoke on the Wind here!

 

Review: The Hidden Life by Robert Castle

~ likelystory18 ~ 2 Comments

Synopsis:

The police have just surrounded the hereditary mansion of Gladwynne Biddleton. He has just shot and wounded his security chief, Dominic Kittredge, and killed Dominic’s wife, Theresa. As he watches the siege unfold on TV, historical visions besiege Gladwynne’s mind. By turns he is a B-17 bombardier; an SS officer tasked with burning the bodies of Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun; a fugitive pursued by the celebrated Nazi hunter, Simon Wiesenthal; and a co-conspirator in the assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg.

Between the television coverage and the pageant in his head, Gladwynne becomes dissociated from what has just actually happened. Fixation on his immediate physical needs and with life in the mansion tend to conceal the enormity of his crime from him. He descends into a narrowing and harrowing spiral of isolation.

Why did he shoot his closest confidant, Dominic? We don’t quite know. But in Dominic’s thirty year diary of serving Gladwynne we begin to find clues. In this chronicle, Dominic recounts the “golden age” of their association, a time when the two men devised a mock nation with Gladwynne as its center. With Dominic’s encouragement, Gladwynne came gradually to conceive of his own physical person as a sovereign state, competing diplomatically with other world states, persistently resisting their efforts to deprive him of his sovereignty. Between the hostile international powers out to get him and the police now at his door, will Gladwynne’s confusion become total?

Favorite Lines:

“Why bug him? Why not let him alone to pursue what he wanted? Namely, let him READ”

“We labored and bled and often humiliated ourselves for the favor of indifferent masters. I would be no different and, simultaneously, completely different.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Robert Castle’s The Hidden Life is a layered, unsettling novel that fuses courtroom drama, family saga, and psychological study into a narrative that constantly blurs the line between fact and delusion. At its center is Tony (Gladwynne Biddleton IV), a wealthy recluse who retreats into his own sovereign “state” of paranoia, books, and war games—until reality collides with his obsessions in a violent and public way.

The novel begins almost cinematically, with Tony in the cockpit of a bomber, struggling to release his payload—a surreal yet fitting metaphor for the tension between his immense privilege and his inability to act decisively in the world. From there, Castle builds a portrait of a man trapped in the shadow of an old-money dynasty, defined as much by wealth as by decay and scandal. The Biddleton family history, interspersed through news reports and testimony, reads like an American gothic—money, influence, and corruption stitched together with a thread of impunity.

Yet Castle never lets this become just a social critique. At its heart, the novel is about Tony himself, a man both grotesque and oddly sympathetic. His enormous head, described in disturbing detail, sets him apart from childhood, but it’s his obsessive reading, note-taking, and self-imposed isolation that give him dimension. He isn’t simply “the strange kid” who became a killer; he’s someone who tried to find order in chaos through books, chess, and rituals, only to have those coping mechanisms twist into delusions of grandeur.

One of the novel’s strongest features is its structure. Castle moves between Tony’s interior monologues, television commentary, historical flashbacks, and courtroom testimony. This mosaic approach allows the reader to experience the siege at Wolf Chase from multiple angles: Tony as besieged sovereign, the police as hesitant aggressors, and the public as hungry spectators. The testimonies of Bernard Thierry and Dominic Kitteridge—loyal family lawyer and loyal family servant—are especially sharp, exposing the ways in which devotion and dependency warp when tied to immense power.

The Hidden Life is not a straightforward read. At times it feels disorienting, intentionally so—echoing Tony’s fractured sense of reality. But that’s what makes it effective. Castle asks us to consider uncomfortable questions: How much of identity is inherited versus chosen? What do loyalty and servitude look like in the shadow of power? And perhaps most chillingly—when a person hides from the world long enough, do they become hidden even from themselves?

Summary:

Overall, Robert Castle’s The Hidden Life is a dark, ambitious novel that intertwines wealth, madness, and loyalty into a portrait of a man unraveling. Both unsettling and absorbing, it’s a story that lingers long after the final page, not just for what it says about one family, but for what it suggests about the hidden lives we all construct. Happy reading!

Check out The Hidden Life here!