The Fall of the Empire (The Rise of the Aztecs Book 5) by Zoe Saadia

The Fall of the Empire is the 5^th book in The Rise of the Aztecs’ series and, as with the previous four; Zoe Saadia captivates the reader from the very onset and leaves us craving more. Despite the fact that this book is part of a series, Saadia allows enough back story so that it could easily be enjoyed as a standalone read.

One of the things I like best about Saadia’s novels is that, even though they reflect a very male dominated, patriarchal world, she really makes her female characters count. The Fall of the Empire is no different and introduces us to Tlalli, a market girl with a deep burning secret. It is Tlalli who drives the story on, lending the warriors her geographical knowledge and, in the end performing so bravely that she is the one who dictates the fate of the deposed Tepanec Emperor.

Although Saadia’s novels are sequential in the telling of the ancient America’s history, each one seems to have its own individual focus. The Fall of the Empire presents us with the reality of war. There are two big battles in the novel, as both Azcapotzalco and Coyoacan fall to the Aztecs and their allies, and Saadia captures the atmosphere of chaos perfectly. We are invited to experience the sights, sounds and smells of war in such a way that we are left with no doubt of the ugly reality.

Prior to this novel, Saadia has mainly depicted the life of noble people and warriors; however with The Fall of the Empire, she introduces us to a different stratum of society through the characters of Etl and Tlalli, who are both commoners. In doing this, Saadia is able to illustrate how the perception and experience of war can differ, depending on a person’s position. For warriors such as Tlacaelel and Kuini, war is glorious and thrilling. In fact, when Saadia describes the fights between warriors, her writing becomes almost cinematic in style. However, it is the ordinary citizens who bear the brunt of war. They become expendable and dehumanised as their towns are destroyed and countless people are slaughtered whilst the rest are forced to become refugees. It is a testament to Saadia’s writing skills that she is able to effectively highlight this dichotomy of both the historical battles and indeed war in general.

In The Fall of the Empire, Tlacaelel steps into the limelight as Itzcoatl, Coyotl and Kuini rely on his strategic and diplomatic skills to get things done. It becomes clear that growing up in a treacherous environment, where his survival depended upon him not being seen as a threat, his tactical skills have been honed to perfection. Of all the warriors, he is the one with the clearest vision. He is pragmatic when he offers Tlalli the stark choice of being reborn in the new world or going down with the old world.

The notion of a new world order is the central theme of the novel. As Tepanec rule is swept aside, all remnants of their culture is destroyed most notably by burning their temples. Saadia uses the two new characters of Etl and Tlalli to illustrate how historically the people most able to survive are the ones who are willing to adapt. Tlalli is just sixteen with no real ties to the old world so it is probably easier for her to let go of all she has known and move forward into a new life.

I loved the character of Tlalli, who acts not only as the heart of the story but enables Tlacaelel to engage with his feelings rather than being ruled completely by intellect. The two may be a surprising match but they each provide the other with what they need. As the novel ends the reader is left in little doubt that the two of them will enjoy an enduring relationship which will serve them both well.

The Rise of the Aztecs is a series that just seems to get better and better and makes for compelling reading. Saadia’s gift for storytelling and her incredible passion and knowledge of this historical period, combine to ensure that readers are simply able to immerse themselves into the sheer joy of reading these books. Although The Fall of the Empire would work perfectly well as a standalone, I really can’t recommend this series highly enough and I’m so pleased that I started at the beginning. 

Married To Maggie (Texas Boys Falling Fast) by Jan Romes

It’s a testament to Jan Romes’ writing that after downloading Married To Maggie, I intended to have a little peek and four hours later I was still reading. Married To Maggie is the best kind of romance, fun, witty and pure escapism.

With a plot that would rival Shakespeare, Married To Maggie hinges on secret schemes, double crosses, an arch-villain and nothing being as it seems. When Maggie Gray loses her job as a nurse, she is tempted into accepting an offer from billionaire oil tycoon Loy Vincent, to marry his grandson Ty. In a quirky twist of fate, Ty also hires Maggie to pose as his wife, in order to get his grandfather off his case. The novel takes place over the seven days from Maggie and Ty’s meeting to their wedding day and what a seven days it is.

The heart of the story is Maggie Gray herself, who is a terrific combination of vulnerability and grit. A dedicated cardiac nurse in her late twenties, she has a full life; helping at shelters for the homeless and dogs as well as belly dancing and socialising with her best friend Nancy. She’s not a woman to be pushed around and has no problem in standing up to the ferocious Loy Vincent and Ty’s snobby friends but at heart she is kind and caring. It doesn’t take long for her to regret becoming embroiled in the madcap scheme as her feelings for Ty are genuine and real.

Ty is also a likeable character, a man trying to live up to the reputation of his imposing lineage whilst making his own mark. There are lots of other engaging characters, most notably Ty’s mother Ellen and my own personal favourite, the paparazzi photographer Chaz Rosston. Romes’ skill as a writer is evident in her ability to bring her characters to life which makes her readers believe in them and care about them.

Married To Maggie makes no pretence to be anything other than what it is, a light hearted rom-com. However, it does touch on serious issues. Romes uses her novel to explore grief and how people deal with it differently. Ty is grieving for his father who died in a car accident and, because he has not really processed what happened, he suffers from debilitating panic attacks. Maggie has lost her own mother and her grief is manifested in a quiet sadness. At the same time we see how families can have a negative impact on each other when relationships become controlling rather than accepting.

Married To Maggie is the first novel in the Texas Boys Falling Fast series and one of the things I enjoyed was looking out for other characters who may be featured in future stories. I’m holding out hope for Sam Bright, the bar owner. All in all, I really enjoyed this novel and if you like a story that puts a smile on your face and a spring in your step then I think this will be a great choice for you. 

Burnt Promises by Brenda Perlin

Burnt Promises is the second book in the Brooklyn and Bo Chronicles by Brenda Perlin and like its predecessor, Shattered Reality, is written with a searing honesty. Perlin’s style of faction is almost naked in its rawness; she offers us the bare details and leaves us to make of them what we will.

Where Shattered Reality presents Brooklyn’s life from childhood to her relationship with Bo, Burnt Promises focuses primarily on that relationship. Brooklyn meets Bo while they are both married to other people and the subsequent complications reflect a reality for a lot of people. Bo’s wife sets in motion divorce proceedings that drag them all through the mud and ultimately benefit nobody but the lawyers involved.

Brooklyn was raised in a traditional home, where she was expected to maintain high moral standards. Like many women, she was encouraged to put other people’s needs before her own and became a ‘people pleaser’. Throughout the novel, it is clear that Brooklyn judges herself more harshly than anyone else could. She is the one who labels herself a “home wrecker” and obviously feels a great deal of guilt over her failed marriage.

I think Burnt Promises actually works on two levels. On the one hand, it is an engrossing tale of a woman’s struggle to accept herself and make sense of her relationship but it is also a form of social history. Brooklyn’s story is such that it chronicles what life is like for many women who were born in the 1960s. The specifics may not be identical but there are many issues bubbling beneath the surface that I suspect lots of women will be able to relate to.

In common with many women, Brooklyn suffers from a lack of self-esteem, which leads her to a disastrous long term relationship with serial womaniser, Joey. Her inability to withstand Joey’s excuses exacerbate her feelings of worthlessness and her consequent attachment to Gerard, whom she marries, is primarily born out of the fact that he is nice to her. The marriage is doomed, Gerard is ten years Brooklyn’s senior and resents her free spirit, trying instead to control her. Brooklyn had a complex relationship with her father which has clearly impacted on her dealings with men, as her default setting seems to be to assume a passive role.

Despite marrying Gerard for the wrong reasons, Brooklyn tries to make it work, ignoring her own needs and feelings for fifteen years. When the marriage ends, it seems to Gerard to be out of the blue but that’s only because Brooklyn has never felt able to express her dissatisfaction with the relationship. It would have been easy for Perlin to cast Gerard as the villain of the piece but she goes to great lengths to show how he is damaged from his own parents’ divorce. He also takes good care of Brooklyn when she becomes ill with a neurological disorder but that consideration is not enough to base a marriage on. In fact, Brooklyn’s illness is a massive stress factor in a relationship that was never particularly strong to begin with. Brooklyn’s expectations for herself are so low, she probably would have settled for an unhappy marriage had she not met Bo, who represents a new beginning for her.

An interesting aspect of Burnt Promises is the way it reflects our society’s obsession with appearance and the impact that has on women. Exercise is a massive part of Brooklyn’s life; she was a fitness instructor prior to her illness and continues to spend a good deal of time in the gym after her recovery. There is poignancy in the fact that as she looks forward to a cruise with Bo, the first vacation of her adult life, one of her primary concerns is the potential weight gain she might experience.  There is also a hilarious anecdote where Brooklyn compares her own lady parts to those of Pamela Anderson, whose vagina she has seen on a sex tape. At a time when young people are defining their own sexuality through porn and Brazilian waxes are the new norm, I found this episode incredibly relevant. Tellingly Bo’s ex-wife insults Brooklyn via her looks, which she obviously perceives as being more damaging than any other form of attack.

Perlin’s writing style is such that Brooklyn’s truth becomes the only truth. Even though I was aware that the novel is not necessarily autobiographical and, even if it were there are always many sides to any given story, I constantly found myself immersed in Brooklyn’s version of events. One of the reasons why Brooklyn’s truth is so compelling is the fair handed way in which Perlin delivers it. There are no villains, even Bo’s ex-wife, Ruth, who puts the couple through hell, is more mad than bad. In fact much of the humour in the novel comes from the emails that Ruth sends to Bo.

Burnt Promises is a novel that offers up a woman’s life for inspection and, through our relationship with Brooklyn, I think most readers will be forced to face truths about their own lives. It might not always be pretty but Burnt Promises is a reflection of reality for a lot of women trying to find their place in a so called modern world.  

After The Sucker Punch by Lorraine Devon Wilke

After The Sucker Punch is an aptly named novel because it packs a mighty punch and raises so many questions, I was left literally reeling by the end of it. Lorraine Devon Wilke commands our attention with a splendidly dramatic opening and never lets us off the hook until the very last page.

The novel is essentially the story of Tessa Curzio, who whilst attending her father’s funeral discovers that he kept diaries for fifty years and has used them to record less than complimentary observations about his family and friends. The trauma of the death of a parent combined with the diary findings serve to cast Tessa into a spiral of self-doubt and destruction. The diaries are described as a Pandora’s Box and indeed, once they’ve been opened, the lives of Tessa and her family will never be the same again. In addition to this, the effects of the Pandora’s Box seem to extend to the reader, leaving behind some very thorny philosophical questions.

LDW shrewdly uses the third person narrative to tell her story, which invites the reader to see the bigger picture. We don’t necessarily always agree with Tessa’s version of events, especially where her siblings are concerned. Tessa has a difficult relationship with her older sister Michaela but LDW offers us a glimpse of a woman trying to juggle her life as a wife, mother and teacher, whilst stepping up to her new role as the family designated carer for her newly widowed mother. Whilst Tessa may have little sympathy for Michaela, LDW ensures that the reader does.

Tessa’s relationship with her siblings is for me the heart and soul of the novel and anybody who has siblings will recognise the petty tensions and jealousies but deep visceral love that defines the bonds they share. Tessa to a large extent has removed herself from her family in order to survive and consequently much of the to-ing and fro-ing between them is via a hilarious series of telephone conversations.

LDW offers us the Curzio family and with it the question of whether parents are responsible for their adult children’s misery. Tessa grew up with an unstable mother who is prone to extreme mood swings and a distant, aloof father, who struggled with intimacy. Despite their chaotic childhood, Tessa and all five of her siblings have grown into accomplished, successful people. Ronnie, her younger brother has lost his way but still has the potential for a good life. However, they are mired in their childhood, looking for reasons as to why their parents are like they are. Tessa’s mother bemoans the fact that she feels like a “dartboard” as her children look to blame her for their difficult childhoods.

Tessa’s family dynamics reflect a period of time that will resonate with lots of us who grew up in the 60s the 70s. Children’s needs were not particularly taken into account and as Tessa points out there was “no concept of child abuse.” Her mother freely hits her children in anger and perhaps worse, they are subjected to the fear and anxiety of her constant mood swings. In some ways the fact that her mother has the capacity for great kindness, as when she reassures Tessa she isn’t sinful, makes her relationship with her children even more complex. In her role as a writer, Tessa covers a feature about fathers and daughters and finds herself comparing her own experiences with other more tangible forms of abuse. She comes to the conclusion that pain is subjective and so can’t be comparative – “it’s as deep as you feel it.”

There’s no denying that her father’s written words have a devastating effect on Tessa and cause her much soul searching. As she rails against his words, there is clearly the kernel of fear within her that they might be true. As she is forced to confront her fears, her life implodes around her. The only constant is her friendship with Kate and Ruby even though LDW allows just enough realism to creep into their relationships. Tessa can’t help but feel reassured by Ruby’s marital problems whilst suffused with jealousy at Kate’s seemingly perfect life.

At the crux of the novel is the idea of whether we should be judged by what we write. Leo Curzio’s diary habit is made more toxic by the fact that he wanted his family to read them. The diaries serve as a metaphorical hand grenade tossed into the bosom of his family with the potential to rip lives apart. Tessa’s aunt, who acts as the conscience of the novel, asserts that maybe we should be judged on our actions rather than by what we may write. To all intents and purposes Leo Curzio was a good man, who did his best to give his children the best start in life but, for some bizarre reason felt the need to vent his bitterness and resentment on paper. Which is the more valid Leo is the puzzle that Tessa is left to figure out.

In the end there are no startling revelations or absolute answers, just a sense of peace and the idea of trying to accept people as they are, warts and all. LDW has captured the spirit of family perfectly in that there is no perfect family. Her novel is funny, warm, tense, angry and ultimately shows us that life is to be lived and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

Jack Gets His Man by D. E. Haggerty

I have to confess that I am a bit of a novice when it comes to cosy mystery/romance but I was attracted to this novel by the idea of a gay male romance written by a woman.  Jack Gets His Man is the spin off sequel to Murder, Mystery & Dating Mayhem and, although there are lots of references to what’s gone before, it works very well as a standalone.

With Jack Gets His Man, D. E. Haggerty has indeed created a cosy world, where everything is more or less perfect. Jack is best friends with newlyweds Izzy and Noel, who are so supportive that Izzy even comes to collect him in the early hours of the morning after an illicit hook-up with an ex-lover. Jack is constantly popping around to Izzy’s house and not even the fact that he caught her and Noel in flagrante delicto can deter him.

The plot develops as Jack realises that money is being embezzled from his shop – a cross dressing/plus size ladies wear store called ‘Fabulous Darling’. Izzy, Noel and a geriatric knitting club band together in order to investigate who is siphoning off the money. They are eventually joined by Damien, Jack’s recently appointed bookkeeper and love interest.

The key to enjoying this novel is to suspend all reality and just go with the flow. The story is set in a small town in Oklahoma, where it seems anything goes. Criminals aren’t all that dangerous and drop dead gorgeous gay men abound, with barely a whiff of homophobia anywhere. That said there is something delightfully addictive once you allow yourself to get caught up in the mad-cap shenanigans of Jack’s life and, I literally couldn’t put the book down, reading it in one sitting.

Jack is the product of the constraints that the ‘cosy’ style dictates. He is stereotypically camp, playful and of course impossibly good looking. He is shallow to the point that he defines everyone he meets by how attractive they are but he is a devoted friend and takes good care of the knitting club ladies. There are hints of darker tones when Haggerty lets us know that Jack’s family disowned him for being gay and when we see him struggling to come to terms with his upcoming fortieth birthday but, in keeping with the light, frothy style, these issues are never really pursued.

I really like the fact that Haggerty uses her novel to give older people a voice. The knitting club ladies are hilarious - quick witted, saucy and not to be messed with. Despite being a great grandmother, Rose, a former accountant, is able to trace the missing money trail and is pivotal in solving the crime. Izzy is on the wrong side of forty and yet is a vital, fun loving character. Haggerty is able to effectively show how age is irrelevant when it comes to engaging with and enjoying a story.

Jack Gets His Man is the perfect antidote to the stresses of real life, offering an alternate reality in the style of a fun sit-com. It would make the ideal beach read and any reader wishing to while away a couple of hours with a funny, entertaining romp, can’t go wrong with this one. 

Currents of War (The Rise of the Aztecs Series Book 4) by Zoe Saadia

Currents of War is the fourth book in The Rise of the Aztecs’ series and probably the most gritty read so far. All of the wonderful qualities of the other novels are still there but Zoe Saadia has injected an underlying tension into her writing that makes Currents of War a thrilling and thought provoking story.

Seven years have passed since the end of the previous tale (The Emperor’s Second Wife) and, although all of our favourite characters are still there, much has changed. Kuini and Dehe have settled into family life with their three young children and a fourth on the way, while Coyotl is readying himself to take back his beloved Texcoco. Iztac is married to the young Emperor and wielding quite a lot of influence, much to the annoyance of Izcoalt, who is now chief advisor. His previous role as warlord has been filled by Tlacealel.

There are two sides to this novel, the continuing development of the characters and their relationships with each other and the politics of the region. Obviously both these aspects are interconnected and their links affect the outcome of events greatly. More than with the other stories, Saadia creates a real sense of danger in this book, racking up the tension to a level that is at times almost unbearable. War is looming all around Tenochtitlan as the Tepanecs are poised to invade. At the same time, war is also raging within as political manoeuvrings and chicanery threaten the lives of several characters.

Saadia demonstrates clearly in her novels how colonisation works and the detrimental effect it has on the people who are stripped of their independence. The Tepanecs are ruthlessly building an empire at the expense of all the surrounding nations. The invaded areas are forced to pay tributes to their occupiers and consequently live in poverty and fear. Saadia also explores how power leads to corruption, showing the life of a leader to be cheap as those around him plot and scheme and coups are put in place.

Saadia’s knowledge and passion for the historical context of her novels is awe-inspiring and promotes a ring of authority and truth. However, for me the heart and soul of her novels are the characters and Currents of War does not disappoint. Kuini has grown up into the kind of man I hoped he would be, independent, wild but loving and loyal. His relationship with his children is very moving and Saadia makes it clear from the reactions of the other characters, that this is unusual for the time. Kuini is not a distant father; he loves his family with all he has.

Kuini’s openness and warmth is in direct contrast to the more strategically minded Tlacaelel and to some extent Coyotl. Although they care greatly for Kuini and in fact Tlecaelel does all he can to help his friend when he gets into difficulties, it is doubtful that they have the same capacity for passion. Deep down this is something that Tlecaelel acknowledges and maybe regrets. There are times that he almost covets what Kuini has whilst recognising that, as a noble man with big plans, he doesn’t have the luxury of letting his heart rule his head.

As with The Emperor’s Second wife, it is the female characters that enthralled me the most. Iztac has grown into an intelligent, perceptive woman but has been hardened by her experiences in the royal palace. She was brought there as a young girl and had to grow up quickly, as she was married off to one Emperor and then became the wife of his son. Saadia introduces the new character of Cuicalt, the third wife of the delightful old Aztec warlord. Cuicalt’s experience mirrors that of Iztac in that she was married off at fifteen to a forty year old man. Now in her forties, perhaps through necessity, she too is a shrewd, perceptive woman and one who you would want on your side.

My favourite character remains Dehe and her storyline in this novel is heartbreaking. She has settled into the role of Kuini’s wife and the mother of his children but is perpetually haunted by the knowledge that she is not his true love. She is fiercely loyal to Kuini and, ever since the first day she met him, would lay down her life for him. Both Tlacaelel and Coyotl are bewitched by her warm, devoted nature but it seems that Kuini might not appreciate what he has in this amazing woman.

Through Kuini and Dehe’s relationship, Saadia questions the very nature of love. Iztac was Kuini’s first love and she remains his ‘princess’ as they still enjoy illicit encounters. There is no doubt that they are soul mates who should be together had fate not intervened. However, in Dehe, Kuini has the steady, sure love of a woman who is devoted to him and his children and it’s clear that he loves Dehe in a quieter but no less genuine way. In Kuini’s case it would seem that it is possible to love two women differently but equally.

The ending of this novel is quite superb even though, by the time I got there I felt as if I had been through an emotional wringer. Anyone who believes in the power of sisterhood and the support that women can enjoy through their relationships with each other will no doubt be weeping with joy by the last page.

I loved this novel and The Rise of the Aztecs’ series is just going from strength to strength. If you haven’t discovered Zoe Saadia’s historical gems then you really are missing out on a treat. 

Kill Line by Robert Leigh

Kill Line is a dark comedy that offers a perfect snapshot of modern life. Robert Leigh skilfully taps into the simmering rage that, for most of us, never seems too far away and embodies it in his likeable and, on the surface oh so reasonable, protagonist.

Due to being made redundant, Shaun is a put upon call centre operative who is forced to endure all of the abuse and boredom that goes along with the job. Despite his efficiency, Sean is often subjected to the rage of the callers who, in the safety of their own home and protected by the distance of the phone line, insult and denigrate him. Whilst visiting one such caller in the hope of getting him to see the error of his ways, Shaun accidentally kills him and thus a side career in murder is born.

All of Shaun’s intelligence and energy, which is wasted in the call centre, becomes focussed on planning the murders. Consequently, it’s through his side project that Shaun finds fulfilment and a sense of accomplishment. In fact, Shaun’s particular skill set means that he takes to serial killing like a duck to water. He is precise, well read and thorough in his research. All of the characters that get to know Sean comment on his intelligence and the fact that he’s wasted in a call centre.

Despite the fact that he’s a cold blooded killer, Shaun is a very engaging character with whom it’s easy for the reader to identify. Leigh employs the use of first person narrative and his conversational style means we soon feel as if we know Shaun. In fact, in the beginning there are two Shauns, the Shaun who makes the decision to kill and his horrified conscience. Leigh cleverly shows how the disparity between the two lessens as the novel goes on, however, and by the end the two are of the same mind.

Shaun is a complex, interesting character who has been forced to live a life not of his choosing. Due to the economic recession, he has few employment options and he lives alone in his childhood home. He is still reeling from the death of his parents and, in his low moments, is haunted by their suffering. He hasn’t changed anything in the house, except to add a large “American fridge”, that is at odds with the rest of the house. The fridge is no doubt a metaphor for Shaun’s desire to escape from the limited world he’s forced to inhabit.

What I really like about this book is the way it highlights the shabbiness of modern Britain. Shaun lives in Holtenthorpe which could represent any industrial town or city, defined by the misery of poverty and unemployment once the industry has collapsed. Where once factories might have stood, there are industrial estates with the new versions of factories – call centres. Leigh’s depiction of life inside a call centre is vivid and authentic and anyone who works in a target driven occupation, complete with robot style managers and meaningless business acronyms will identify with Shaun and his co-workers. The grey monotony of life in the call centre is almost unbearable.

Leigh’s novel is an indictment of the kind of politics that view people as a commodity. Labour Right is a government funded agency that forces unemployed people into jobs that aren’t worth having. The complete lack of humanity within these companies, that we all know exist in cities the length and breadth of the UK, see characters such as Marie, a fifty something woman made redundant after twenty three years working in a bank, tossed carelessly aside in favour of the more malleable twenty somethings. Anyone who complains about the working conditions find themselves ‘moved on’.

Although Leigh’s story is told in a way that is both thought provoking and humorous, make no mistake, it is also brutally violent. As Shaun embarks on his killing spree, all of the emasculation he has been made to feel, finds release in pure, unadulterated rage. Leigh’s talent lies in the way he allows us to identify with Shaun in such a way that we feel nothing for his victims. Shaun has devised a set of rules which he uses to decide whether an abusive caller deserves to die or not and, as we become caught up in his world, his reasoning seems quite fair. However, things change when Shaun kills someone who hasn’t broken the rules. We find ourselves pulling away from him and then when he meets suicidal Hazel Downs, we see him for the psychopath that he actually is. By the end, we have no idea what will become of him as he has passed a point of no return.

Kill Line is the perfect combination of playful and deadly serious. It’s probably not a story for anyone easily offended but, if you like a dark, clever and laugh out loud read, then you’ll love it. I know I did!