The Triple Alliance (The Rise of the Aztecs Book 7) by Zoe Saadia

The Triple Alliance by Zoe Saadia is the bitter sweet finale of The Rise of the Aztecs’ series. Bitter because it almost broke my heart to say goodbye to my beloved fictional friends and sweet because Saadia gives her readers the perfect ending.

The story begins in 1439, eight years on from where The Sword finished. Saadia uses this time shift to pick up the story of Kuini’s children. This is particularly poignant for fans of the series as we have been following Kuini’s journey from when he was a pre-teen himself.

His children, Ocelotl, Coatl and Citlalli are eighteen years old and entering into adulthood. Their lives have taken divergent paths over the past eight years but they find themselves reunited in Tenochtitlan during a festival to celebrate the winter solstice. There are tensions between the three as they struggle to overcome the resentment that has developed as a result of Ocelotl living in the Highlands but they soon fall into their old roles as they become embroiled in a plot to kill the chief advisor Tlacaelel.

Saadia is, without a doubt, a historian who painstakingly researches the subject matter of her books. However, even if you are not a lover of historic fiction, the strength of Saadia’s writing for me is the way she encourages us to evaluate the human condition, her depiction of history highlights that nothing really changes. Our way of life may have developed but the human race is still making the mistakes that we’ve always made – most probably since time began.

The driving force for most of the characters within The Triple Alliance is the quest for power. Tlacaelel is the power behind the throne of the Emperor. He’s a visionary who is largely responsible for the rise of Mexica and the powerful alliance with Texcoco and Tlacopan that ensures their reign of supremacy. However, Tlacaelel has no understanding of people and his desire to unify everyone under one God and ruler is unrealistic. The populace of Tenochtitlan, despite Tlacaelel’s sophisticated projects to build waterways, bridges and other new impressive buildings, is a seething mass of anger and division. The different groups of people have been forcibly merged together and each group views the others as “foreigners”. We only have to look at the current mass migration taking place in Europe and the explosive levels of racism and xenophobia following in its wake to see that Saadia’s account of the past is still very relevant.

Even the women, who essentially belong to the noble men of the Empire, are jockeying for positions of power through their men. There is very little sisterhood in the palatial households where wives are often cast aside for younger and more appealing women. The exception to this is Tlalli, who as a commoner and concubine has very little social standing but has gained the respect of all who know her through her accomplishments and generous spirit.

The Triple Alliance reinforces the idea that women at that time had no power at all. Citalli, like her mother before her, is viewed as a valuable commodity and has been trained to be a wife from a young age. By the age of eighteen she has already been married off to the heir of Tlacopan. A marriage she had no say in whatsoever. Citalli is a strong character who is volatile and not afraid to speak her mind but her sense of power is misplaced as ultimately she is at the mercy of the men around her.

The relationship between the three siblings is presented by Saadia in a very real and interesting way. Both Ocelotl and Coatl feel the pressure of having to follow in their successful warlord father’s footsteps. Ocelotl in particular struggles to find his own identity as he has a disability and can’t complete with Coatl and his father physically. However, under his grandfather’s guidance, he learns to value his own strengths rather than comparing himself to others. Citalli has strong feelings of kinship with both brothers but her attachment to Ocelotl becomes so intense it creates an inappropriate sexual tension between the two of them. Saadia explores this dilemma in a sensitive and thoughtful way which elicits feelings of compassion for Citalli who has no idea about her true heritage.

In giving the final novel over to the young characters, Saadia allows her series to come full circle. The youth of the characters inject the story with energy and fun regardless of the tense and serious backdrop. As with all her novels, Saadia assuredly offers her readers edge of your seat tension, leaving us desperate to learn the fates of our beloved characters.

The Triple Alliance is an exciting and satisfying read which works perfectly well as a standalone novel. However, I cannot recommend The Rise of the Aztecs’ series highly enough and guarantee that if you give it a try you will be hooked and fully invested in the rich lives of Saadia’s wonderful characters. Part of me is devastated to have come to the end of the road but the great news is that Zoe Saadia is such a prolific writer there’s a whole new series waiting for me.

Glossolalia : A Psychological Suspense Thriller by Tantra Bensko

Glossolalia by Tantra Bensko has the subtitle, a psychological suspense, but I’m not sure this reflects the true nature of the novel. It’s a story that is impossible to categorise and quite possibly the most unique book I’ve ever read.

It’s a complex and surreal story which highlights lots of modern dilemmas, chiefly by using irony and exaggeration. The imagery that Bensko creates is both visual and bizarre. The only way I can think of to explain it is – imagine staring at a Salvador Dali painting whilst on speed because the pace of the novel is almost neck breaking.

Bensko’s protagonist is a character called Nancy. It’s quite difficult to get a real sense of Nancy as, due to her fragmented mental state, she is a very unreliable narrator. She is being used as a pawn by a group called the Neverminds, who are basically running a mind control programme. Nancy has been split into compartments by the Neverminds so that she is three different personalities. They accomplished this by traumatising her as a young child and then keeping her medicated.

The novel works on the premise that the world is controlled by an alliance of the US government, church and big business, who use mind control to ensure that the world is run as they see fit. The glossolalia of the title is a language used by the powers that be to create a hypnotic effect. Hence once they hypnotise someone they use the secret language to control their behaviour. Bensko offers us a world where power corrupts. Nancy works for her Uncle Geoff, an agent of Nevermind and the owner of D-CIDE, an unscrupulous pesticide company. The chemical XXX which is used in the pesticide is known to have killed both humans and animals but the corruption within the establishment is such that Geoff is given the job of investigating chemicals that are harmful to the environment.

Geoff colludes with the charismatic Reverend Terry Crank who has incredible power within the church despite being a sexual deviant. He is also an agent of Nevermind and uses his position to control and eliminate any opponents of the status quo.

The levels of corruption run so deep it’s hard to know who is part of the Nevermind conspiracy and who is actually a genuine character. The main anti-Nevermind voice is an activist called Elias Brandon who runs an online blog exposing wrong doing. He is so shrouded in mystery and bizarre however, it just adds another layer of distrust and confusion.

Nancy also has an online friend called Jeff who, when he visits her turns out to be a sinister childhood associate with hands fashioned to look like flamingos, which he then uses to control her mind. There is a love interest called Julio who again seems like a shadowy character which makes us doubt his authenticity.

There is no doubt that Bensko is a talented, intelligent writer and she successfully gets us to question everything by making us doubt our own perceptions. She maintains control over her writing despite taking it to such surreal heights that her readers have no choice but to suspend all reality.

I suspect that Glossolalia will appeal to a niche audience who will absolutely love it. The problem I had is that I didn’t really get it and this was more to do with me than the actual novel. It’s a bit like some people love Terry Gilliam films whilst others are left feeling out of the loop. I’m not sure if my inability to connect was cultural because the book is very American or caused by the fact that I’m quite conventional and couldn’t immerse myself fully into the madness.

I would definitely recommend that you give Glossolalia a try. It’s a brave and unique story and Tantra Bensko is an assured writer. I’m willing to bet that if you connect with it this novel may well turn out to be one of your all time favourites. 

The Sword (The Rise of the Aztecs Book 6) by Zoe Saadia

The Sword by Zoe Saadia is the sixth book in The Rise of the Aztecs series. It had been a while since I read the last one (The Fall of the Empire) but the second I opened my kindle it was like meeting up with a beloved old friend.

All of Saadia’s novels can be enjoyed as standalones but there is nothing that can compare to the sheer joy of following this cast of characters from the beginning. We first met Kuini and Coyotl as children but in The Sword they are accomplished, successful men in their thirties. Along the way Saadia has added more characters for us to love such as Dehe, Iztac-Ayotl, Tlacaelel and more recently Tlalli.

This particular novel belongs to Tlalli and Kuini’s young son, Ocelotl. The novel is set in the city of Texcoco where Coyotl has finally claimed his rightful place as Emperor. Due to the recent battles and regional turmoil, lots of the characters are feeling like strangers in a strange land, particularly Tlalli, visiting the city with her lover, Tlacaelel, who as Mexica’s chief adviser is a dignitary at Coyotl’s ceremony.

When we first met Tlalli in The Fall of the Empire, she was a brave and resourceful market girl but, since being taken as Tlacaelel’s favourite concubine, she has come some way to realising her full potential. She has taught herself to read and write so much so that Tlacaelel is planning to use her as a scribe. However, Tlalli has lost none of her spirited independence and, whilst exploring the city at night she stumbles across information that essentially prevents Coyotl and Tlacaelel’s plans from being thwarted.

The plot centres on the eponymous sword which belongs to Kuini, the Chief Warlord. The sword has belonged to the Warlord since he was a young man and has taken on a symbolic meaning for a lot of people who associate it with the Warlord’s success. In fact, many people are convinced that the sword has magical powers. When the sword is stolen it threatens to destabilise everything Coyotl, Kuini and Tlacaelel have worked for and it becomes a race against time to find it and those responsible for the theft.

The situation is made even more threatening because the Warlord’s young son, Ocelotl is also missing, caught up in the theft of the sword. In Ocelotl we see the mirror image of the boy Kuini who we first met in The Highlander. Ocelotl doesn’t fit in in Texcoco where he is constantly compared to his more conventionally accomplished twin. He is considered too wild and ill-disciplined but during the course of the novel proves himself to be his father’s son. The Warlord’s concern for and relationship with his son also serves to remind the reader of his human side despite his ruthlessness as a warrior.

My favourite character in the previous novels has been Dehe and she doesn’t disappoint. Tlalli is almost like a younger version of the now settled and respectable wife of the Warlord. We see Dehe mostly through Tlalli’s eyes and it’s gratifying that she has grown into a kind and wise woman. This is particularly in evidence in her treatment of the Warlord’s other wife and Coyotl’s sister, Iztac-Ayotl. Iztac makes a terrible mistake that Dehe helps her to cover up and, although I partly wanted Iztac to be exposed, it made me love Dehe even more for not doing so.

As with the other novels of the series, one of the themes of the story is the lasting effects of colonialism. Even though most of the battles are over and Tlacaelel is building a strong Mexica Empire, resentments are bubbling under the surface as the people feel the loss of their independence and cultural identity. Tlacaelel is a strategic politician and he has almost realised his vision of a cohesive empire under the rule of his own emperor, Itzcoatl and Coyotl. However, he naively believes that eradicating the Tepanecs from history and elevating one God to unite the people is the answer. He is surprised when Tlalli recounts events from her own Tepanec perspective and, although he advises Coyotl to get rid of dissenters, he fails to see that resentment will still remain waiting for the right moment to surface. It’s particularly interesting when we compare this time of 1431 to the present day and realise that most of the world’s problems stem from resentments and anger over land, religion and culture. It seems that we are still dealing with the consequences of colonialism.

One of the many things that make Saadia’s novels such a delight to read is the attention she pays to history which lends the stories enormous credibility. Her writing skills bring this period alive from the way she describes the busy market places to the intrigue that takes place around the palaces. Superstition plays a strong part in this story especially where the sword is concerned. Saadia manages to convey the power it represents in such a way that I got so caught up in her words I came to believe it was magical myself.

Saadia also imbues her story with heart-stopping tension especially surrounding Ocelotl. As he tries to escape from the hired killers who have stolen his father’s sword I genuinely feared for his safety. Likewise when his father embarks upon a spectacular sword fight with the leader of the thieves, my heart was in my mouth.

There are so many things to recommend about this book that I really don’t know where to start but one of the great things about Saadia is the way she allows females to shine in a very male dominated world. Her novels are always filled to brim with excitement but at the same time thoughtful and steeped in history. I can’t remember a series I have enjoyed more and am really looking forward to downloading the next instalment.

The Family Line by Laura Wilkinson

The Family Line by Laura Wilkinson is an unusual but gripping story set in the near future. Wilkinson cleverly uses her novel to construct a world that acts as a cautionary tale of what could become of us if we fail to mend our ways.

We are introduced to the main character, foreign correspondent Megan Evens, in a prologue where the independent, sparky thirty something is trying to escape a militarised Muslim area to return to London. The impression is immediately created that Megan is a tough, no-nonsense, driven woman.

These are qualities that serve her well when she finds herself a single mother and opts to return to her family home in Wales. Her life is turned upside down even further when she discovers that her young son has a hereditary condition called AMNA and without a bone marrow transplant he will not survive into adulthood. Megan determines that she will stop at nothing to find a genetic match for her child but in doing so uncovers life changing family secrets.

Wilkinson separates her novel into three parts: the present, the past and the future. During the first part (present) of the novel, we are given clues that the world has been dramatically altered, for example there is food and water rationing and restrictions on travelling. However, it is not until the second section (past) that we learn the truth. The ‘past’ is told from Megan’s mother, Elizabeth’s, point of view and she describes how in 2025 a plague wiped out 50% of the UK population which has unspeakable ramifications for both Elizabeth and the unwitting Megan. The final section (future) of the novel sees Megan travelling to Romania with her mentor, friend and fellow journalist, Jack North, in an attempt to unravel the past and find a bone marrow match for Megan’s child.

I found the novel to be extremely dark and in places truly disturbing. My favourite section of the novel is the ‘past’ and it is in this section that Wilkinson’s writing evokes terrifying imagery in the way she describes the onset of the plague. She presents us with a realistic scenario where infestations of rats, some as big as small dogs, act as the harbinger of the terror that is to come. The terrible suffering that the people endured is also made heartbreakingly real by Wilkinson’s vivid imagery.

What I particularly like about Wilkinson’s novel is the way in which she explores very relevant issues by taking them to their extreme potential trajectory. For example, the plague is a man-made one created for warfare that is somehow released. The rats are breeding because of the amount of waste people discard and they consequently spread the plague like wild fire.  There are also climate changes causing droughts and floods brought about by mankind’s selfish disregard for the environment. After the plague, people determine to be more mindful of the problems they are causing but, little more than thirty years later they are already neglecting the environment once more and the suggestion is the whole 2025 catastrophe could be repeated.

As a result of the plague, the population is massively depleted and a ‘breeding frenzy’ ensues. This leads to women who are past natural child bearing age or infertile seeking out donated eggs. As egg donation becomes big business, poor countries become exploited as young women and girls are offered money for their eggs. The consequences of this are dire as none of the donors are checked for any health implications. Wilkinson raises the question of whether it is a woman’s right to bear a child just because she wants one. The idea is taken to its extreme when we are presented with the grotesque image of a pregnant woman in her seventies.

Wilkinson also explores the guilt associated with hereditary conditions. AMNA is a disease where females are the carriers and males the sufferers. However, this is made even more complex because not every mother will pass it onto her sons; it’s a random condition that can skip a generation or strike just one boy in a family. If this were the case, would you risk having children and how would you live with yourself if you passed a life limiting, terrible disease onto your child. Wilkinson touches upon genetic engineering and the question of where it would stop. If we used it to eradicate potential illness is it not then human nature to become even more demanding in a quest for perfection?

Another question raised by the novel is the impact of nurture over nature. Although nature dictates our physical attributes and weaknesses, nurture can be just as life limiting. Megan has been nurtured by a mother who is defined by secrets. This has had a disastrous effect on their relationship as Elizabeth has seemed emotionally absent to Megan. Megan herself is a cold, aloof character who, despite her passion for social justice, doesn’t give of herself emotionally. Her relationships with others seem functional rather than warm and caring.

I really liked The Family Line; I found it interesting and thought provoking. My only slight criticism is that because the book has such a dark and uncertain tone throughout, the ending, when it comes, seems a little bit neat and tidy. That being said, lots of readers do prefer books with a definitive conclusion.

The Family Line is not a light summer read but it is a thoughtful and well written story of where we could all potentially end up. If you like a novel that is unusual and makes you think, then this one is for you.

A History of Stone and Steel by Christopher Fisher

A History of Stone and Steel by Christopher Fisher is an unusual read that is both compelling and thought provoking. I was hooked from the first page and it is a credit to Fisher’s skill as a writer that he drew me in so effectively and made me care about a character who is not very likeable.

Paul Keppel is like a middle-aged Holden Caulfield – 43 years old and still going through life in a self-absorbed bubble with no idea who he really is. The story is told in first person narrative and the only thing that kept me from fully detesting Paul was his wry humour and the fact that he knows that he is a “ridiculous man.”

The novel begins in the present where Paul is married with one year old twin girls and another child on the way. He is a dissertation away from completing his PHD which will allow him to teach and take the financial pressure off his family. However, he is stuck in some kind of no man’s land unable to put pen to paper. Matters are compounded as he is suffering from debilitating headaches and insomnia caused by a recurring dream.

The dream takes on a life of its own and forms part of the structure of the story when Fisher takes us on a journey which alternates between the present and the summer of 1991 when Paul worked in a steel plant. As the novel unfolds the tension increases as Fisher hints that the incidents of 1991 have impacted massively on Paul’s present. By the time the time line meets up at the end of the novel the suspense is almost unbearable.

My favourite parts of the novel are the ones in the steel plant. Fisher creates a world that is vividly terrifying. He describes inside the plant as being like hell with the heat and physical labour and the reader is left with no doubt of the harsh conditions and danger that the men are working in every day. All this is offset though by the camaraderie of the men and the unique relationships that develop in such a tough environment.

One of Paul’s weaknesses is that he is unable to accept people as they are. He is easily disappointed when people can’t be who he wants them to be. His father is a hard working man, often working double shifts in the steel plant to provide for his family. He clearly loves his son, there is a tender scene where he makes Paul breakfast and he’s also given him his beloved old truck and paved his way into the steel plant. However, he’s not particularly demonstrative for which Paul can’t forgive him.

Paul’s sense of dislocation seems to stem from the fact that when he was just eight years old his ‘fire and brimstone’ grandfather, “the reverend”, declared him to be a prophet. Consequently Paul’s childhood was defined by his feelings of being special and his grandfather’s dream of him attending bible school and becoming a preacher. It is only as a young man that Paul is able to free himself from his grandfather’s dominating presence.

Maybe as a result of his grandfather’s overbearing personality, Paul becomes like a spectator in his own life. He loves his first girlfriend, Angela; because she wants him to and then goes on to marry Carrie because she makes it easy for him. At no time does he make an actual commitment. It’s ironic that his anger towards his own father stems from their lack of communication because his relationship with his own daughters seems very distant which is emphasised by his friend Gary’s ability to easily engage with them.

Fisher uses Gary as a direct contrast to Paul. A mature student working his way through college, Gary is an ex-Marine who perhaps has reason to feel sorry for himself. He walks with a limp due to a bizarre accident whilst in service and is troubled by his wartime experience. Paul has everything that Gary doesn’t and, maybe due to his loneliness, Gary quickly insinuates himself into Paul’s life and becomes his partner in crime. Paul and Gary’s antics provide much of the comedy in the novel. As Paul’s behaviour becomes increasingly out of control, Gary is like the voice of reason even though he clearly has a great many mental health issues of his own.

I’m not sure what to make of Paul’s long suffering wife, Carrie, or indeed why she puts up with his unreasonable, selfish behaviour. Despite being pregnant she is the one who keeps the family together, working in a bank, taking care of the twins and seemingly doing all of the household chores. She even collects Paul’s medication for him while he wallows in self pity and pretends to write his dissertation. Since marrying Paul she has found religion which perhaps explains why she stays with him or maybe she is simply a realistic portrayal of why people stay in marriages that to outsiders don’t seem worth the trouble.

The end of the book came as a massive surprise to me which, despite the escalating tension, I never saw coming. I think A History of Stone and Steel is an intelligent book which raises lots of questions. Religion runs through the entire novel and with it the idea that it is not religion but the way in which we interpret it that causes so many problems. It is very much a novel of our time and Paul is the perfect representative of our self obsessed society. He mirrors the way we all seem to spend our time looking inward and struggling with existential angst rather than just getting on with life and making the best of what we have.

I loved A History of Stone and Steel and as much as I wanted to slap Paul I was completely intrigued by his story. It’s a thoughtful and at times hilarious book which is extremely well written. If you like something that is a bit quirky and different then I can’t recommend this one highly enough. e He stems

Changing Patterns by Judith Barrow

Changing Patterns by Judith Barrow is a nostalgic novel set in 1950 which succeeded in evoking lots of different emotional responses as I was reading it. It’s in turn, funny, sad and heart warming but also has a serious dose of tension thrown into the mix.

Barrow has created this novel as the second in her Shadows’ trilogy. As with all series, you can’t beat reading them in the order that they were intended; however, this is a story that works perfectly well as a standalone. Five years have passed since Pattern of Shadows and Barrow does a great job of providing her readers with just enough back story.

Mary and Peter, the seemingly star-crossed lovers, have been reunited and are living in idyllic surroundings in a coastal village in Wales. Sadly though, tragedy never seems to be far away from this couple and, just as it feels like they may get their happy ever after, Mary is pulled into a family drama that threatens to rip her relationship with Peter apart.

One of Barrow’s many strengths is the amount of historic research she has done and the attention to detail which brings her story alive. As someone who was brought up in a Northern industrial city as part of a working class community, lots of Barrow’s descriptions brought a smile to my face as memories of my grandparents’ back to back houses, complete with outside toilets and front rooms that were rarely used, came flooding back. It is a credit to Barrow’s writing that her settings are not only realistic but become a central part of the story. At times, it reminded me of the setting for a drama and I could well envisage the whole thing being played out on our TV screens.

I like so many things about this novel but not least the dynamics of the Howarth family. As the oldest girl, Mary has been conditioned to put other people’s needs before her own and she does this time and time again at the expense of her own happiness. Her younger sister Ellen is almost childlike due to her reliance on Mary to take control every time life becomes difficult. No matter that everyone around them can see that their relationship isn’t healthy, they seem destined to carry on playing their predetermined roles.

Barrow gives us a warts and all glimpse of life in a close knit community. The back to back housing means that there is no space for privacy or individuality and that can be oppressive and limiting. However, it also has its positives, for example when a child goes missing everyone in the community immediately pulls together as part of the search. Likewise, it’s easy to idealise the idea of strong women and a matriarchal society but Barrow reminds us that women can be just as bullying and aggressive as men. Ellen’s mother in law is the epitome of a spiteful, angry woman dominating her family’s life in such a way that she is making everyone unhappy.

Strangely my favourite character is Mary’s brother, Patrick, who on the surface is an unpleasant bully. He has been brought up in a home where domestic abuse is the norm. His only male role model was a man who expressed his anger and frustrations by lashing out. Patrick has seen his mother’s suffering as a victim of domestic abuse and has vowed to himself he will never be like his father. However, he struggles with his own anger and does in fact strike his wife. He’s also a womaniser who measures his self-worth by his attractiveness to women. There is no doubt though that at heart he is a good man and Barrow allows us to see his journey to become a better husband, father and human being. By the end of the novel, I was really rooting for him to rise above his upbringing.

Barrow also explores racial prejudice in the novel through the difficulties that Peter endures. It’s hardly surprising that, during the years following the war, communities who had suffered devastating losses refused to welcome a German into their midst. However, the story expresses hope for humanity as gradually tensions ease and it becomes clear that Peter is no different to anyone else. Parts of the story felt very relevant to modern day Britain where we are becoming increasingly wary of outsiders. There is poignancy in the way Peter insists that his children have English names because he doesn’t want them to be singled out. This sadly reminded me of my own new Hungarian neighbours who have anglicised their names to try and fit in.

From beginning to end the novel is threaded with tension. The Howarth family are burdened with secrets that they are each trying to keep in order to protect the ones they love. It’s clear though that the secrets are destined to come out as the longer they are kept the more potentially toxic they become. In George Shuttleworth, Barrow has created a villain who is always lurking in the shadows threatening to cause heartache for the Howarth family, which ultimately he does. Cleverly though, Barrow doesn’t make George a one dimensional baddie. He is odious and repulsive but he is also a victim of violence and anger and is deeply unhappy.

I can’t recommend Changing Patterns enough; it is a top notch read that kept me glued to my kindle well into the wee hours. If you love a series then I suggest you opt for Pattern of Shadows first. If not then dive straight into this one – you won’t regret it.

The Blue Ridge Project by Neil Rochford

The Blue Ridge Project by Neil Rochford is a beguiling mix of crime thriller and sci-fi. I found myself enthralled from the very first page and the break neck pace didn’t let up until the last.

Rochford’s success lies in the way he shrouds his story in mystery, leaving his readers compelled to read on in order to find out what might happen next. The story is based in Beacon City which is controlled by the rich and very sordid Hamilton family. From the onset, the mysterious and strangely deserted Regent Hotel seems to be at the centre of much of the action but we don’t find out to what extent until the very end.

Likewise, Rochford throws lots of characters at us in the beginning, almost playing with us as they jockey for centre stage before being discarded and creating yet another layer of mystery. Finally two protagonists emerge from the crowd, in the form of homicide detective, Andrea Nox and freelance investigative journalist, Robert Duncan.

Rochford further demonstrates his hold over both his writing skills and his readers by employing an extremely complex structure. The novel opens with a prologue which is actually set two days before the start of the novel. We are allowed to catch up before Rochford cleverly uses his characters’ memories to take us into the past, thereby providing us with some of the answers to the many questions buzzing around our heads. In parallel running chapters, Andrea relives her past via a conversation with a therapist while Robert unburdens himself in a drunken conversation with a recent acquaintance. For the final section of the novel, we are brought back to the present day in time for the denouement.

I really like the way Rochford presents his characters. There are no perfect heroes just flawed, damaged, not necessarily likeable people, getting by the best they can. Rochford has an excellent eye for detail and brings his characters alive with unusual observations. For example, he describes a lawyer in the book as someone who, “looked like a man who would die in his office rather than retire.”

Andrea Nox is my favourite character, a hard drinking, angry woman who is not averse to drunken one night stands. Her counterpart in the novel, Robert Duncan, is a heavy drinking idealist whose reputation is in tatters as a result of trying to expose a powerful politician as a brutal deviant. Both characters experienced traumatic childhoods which have had far reaching effects on their adult lives.

Andrea and Robert find themselves thrown together as a result of “the project,” a mysterious experiment with mind control. As the two of them get drawn further and further into the murky world surrounding the experimentation, they find themselves questioning their own sanity. Rochford raises the philosophical question of what is real and how do we know our perceptions of events are valid? After all, do people who are insane know they are insane and what is to say that they are?

I really liked The Blue Ridge Project; it is an exciting page turner that also provides the reader with food for thought. The novel ends on a cliff-hanger ready to continue into a sequel and, I for one will definitely be coming back for seconds.