Nichole Louise's Blog

I Am Cleopatra by Natasha Solomons follows teen to young adult-aged Cleopatra contending with the threat of Rome. When the Pharaoh, Cleopatra’s father, dies and Rome sets its sights on Alexandria, Cleopatra takes stock of her country’s leadership and well-being. As is the historical practice of the Ptolemies, Cleopatra is married to her brother. Her two younger siblings, a girl and a boy, are caught up in the political tensions. Knowing she must solidify her position and the country’s safety, Cleopatra allies herself with the famous Julius Caesar. Cleopatra quickly ingratiates herself with the powerful Roman, fresh off a civil war, pushing down deep her true desires and opinions to sacrifice her body to his pleasure and whim. The reader knows Cleopatra does not love him and is fully aware he has plundered Egypt, yet she “plays the game” for her country.

We also get a few chapters from the perspective of Servilia, on and off again lover of Caesar and mother of the infamous Brutus. I understand the author’s reasoning to have a Roman perspective in this story, but there weren’t enough Servilia POV chapters for it to warrant as a dual POV novel. Servilia has a handful of chapters, which this reader actually found jarring and a bit out of place–especially considering this book is titled I Am Cleopatra and is written from the first person perspective as a type of memoir.

There were a few things that did not sit right with me in this rendition of Cleopatra’s life. While at first Cleopatra is “grinning and bearing it” with her relationship with Caesar, often noting her disgust with his physical body and his behavior, she in time grows to have true affection for him. Not love, but enough affection to miss him. I could understand, perhaps, a mutual respect in playing a political game, but I did not like the Stockholm Syndrome of it all. The big event at the end seems like it should have had more emotional impact because of their enmeshment, but I just did not feel it.

What’s more, Cleopatra herself is not necessarily likeable. She is the product of her time and high social standing, therefore having life-long loyal slaves is her norm. Her close friendships with her slaves will not sit well with modern readers, however Cleopatra’s inner thoughts on this matter aren’t really redeeming. She is often selfish and entitled, even cruel when family members approach to buy the freedom of one of them.

Given where in the timeline this book ends, there is still much more of Cleopatra’s life to cover so I would not be surprised if the author plans to write a sequel or trilogy.

I Am Cleopatra will be released October 21, 2025

Vlad: The Last Confession by C.C. Humphreys is a historical fiction account of 15th century Vlad Dracula, Prince of Wallachia–or as most know him, Vlad the Impaler. The tale is framed by confessionals told in 1481 from those closest to Vlad, his former lover, his best friend, his confessor, who witnessed his lows and highs many years before. Humphreys then takes us to Vlad’s adolescence as a hostage in Turkey, very much under the yoke of the Sultan Murad and his son, Mehmet. Vlad, his younger brother Radu, and Vlad’s best friend Ion navigate the challenges of the Sultan’s court as students and outsiders, always at odds with their “hosts.”

Vlad’s time as a hostage at the Sultan’s court is only the start of his miseries, which are compounded when he frees a young woman, Ilona, from a life of serving as a harem mistress. Ilona, who I believe is a fabrication of the author and not based on a real historical figure (?), then flees to Wallachia to await “her Prince” for whenever he is able to escape the Sultan. While Radu is taken to, for lack of a better word, be groomed by Mehmet, Vlad is thrown into the dungeons of Tokat as punishment for freeing Ilona. It is within the walls of Tokat that Vlad is forced into a sort of “training” in the art of torture and pain. While he is resistant at first and highly disturbed by the torture methods, especially the impalement, his traumas slowly engulf him.

When Vlad does make it back to Wallachia, and to Ilona, he is a changed man. No longer the youth full of hope and idealism, but a traumatized and broken man. What I really appreciated about Humphreys’ take on Vlad is that he wasn’t just “evil” for evil’s sake with no reason. Rather, Humphreys crafts a complex psyche heavily impacted by what I interpreted as PTSD, to account for Vlad’s violent and harsh behaviors. He is the monster they–the warring boyars and kings and sultans and torturers–made him. He is trauma manifest.

Due to his complex psychological state, I vacillated on my views regarding his relationship with Ilona. While at times she was his one true love, his only refuge of honesty and peace, Ilona seemed to always view him with caution. While he was also her true love, she also recognized the darkness within him–the line he always seemed to be walking. She was also well aware of him sleeping around, which was a little hard for me to understand. As such, she handled him with the cautious reverence Vlad himself had for his beloved trained goshawks. While this dynamic was clearly not healthy, Ilona loved him no matter what–even to her own ruin.

Readers will find no vampires or magic here, but a brutal and gory account of the tumultuous life of this 15th century Prince of Wallachia. Humphreys even offers real world explanations for Vlad’s supposed longevity from which legends grew. And in the end, we find Vlad’s masterful machinations work to his favor.

Ashes and Stone by Allyson Shaw is a creative non-fiction account of women accused of witchcraft throughout Scottish history, particularly in the 16th through 18th centuries. Shaw details her personal journey traveling around Scotland to visit the forgotten, often neglected monuments to the those who lost their lives to witchcraft craze. Reading Ashes and Stone while I was traveling around Scotland, knowing exactly some of the areas Shaw spoke about and being able to visualize and physically place myself in those spaces, enhanced my reading. Shaw notes that many of the monuments, large or small, often held/hold language that wasn’t/isn’t exactly respectful to the actual human souls lost and the absolute brutality against women. Shaw describes the implements of bondage and torture used against women (as seen in the National Museum of Scotland, my own pictures below) who perhaps did not follow society’s script perfectly, singling them out as “easy targets” for persecution in a powder keg of battling Protestants and Catholics.

Descriptions of Scottish witch hunts in Scotland – National Museum of Scotland Collar and manacles used in imprisonments and torture – National Museum of Scotland Full display of torture and imprisonment devices used in the witch hunts – National Museum of Scotland

As the author goes through each geographic area’s witch hunt story and those persecuted, she draws parallels to the violence and brutality against women then and women now. Her descriptions of these acts, taken from primary sources and in some cases womens’ own “confessions”, are stark in their honest and barbarous truth. Shaw also discusses the common themes of men in power using their status to fulfill their sick and twisted desires of enacting violence, and sexual violence, against women.

Ashes and Stones is both an interesting and hard read knowing these harsh truths of history persist today in both different and similar forms. Scotland in the 16th through the 18th century created the “perfect storm,” so to speak, for the witch hunts given the religious and political turmoil. Men using their positions of power and social prestige to control, imprison, torture, and kill women are still seen in today’s world–often will little or no consequences. Have we really come so far?

The House of Two Sisters by Rachel Louise Driscoll (titled Nephthys in the UK) follows Clementine “Clemmie”, daughter of a famed Victorian Egyptologist and “mummy unwrapper.” Clemmie ventures alone to Cairo to return one of her father’s (pilfered) artifacts that Clemmie believes has cursed her family. (Read into that the colonialism and superstition as you will.) Clemmie’s journey down (up?) the Nile to find the best place to return the artifact amulet is inter-spliced with flashback chapters from 1887 recounting Clemmie’s witnessing of one of her father’s “unwrapping” parties. While Clemmie instinctively finds the “fad” wrong and disrespectful, she cannot stop her father from reveling in his guests’ reactions to the mummy he has uncovered: conjoined twins. Although Clemmie begs him to stop, her father goes as far as to physically cut the twins apart.

The parallels between the sister mummies and the relationship between Clemmie and her own sister, Rosetta “Etta,” are beyond evident. Etta’s mind begins to unravel, setting Clemmie in motion to venture to Egypt to return the twins’ amulet. While abroad, however, Clemmie’s plan does not go according to her desire–this wouldn’t be a story if it didn’t! She teams up with English tourists, siblings Celia and Oswald, as well as the slightly suspicious and almost too curious Rowland. Clemmie is coerced into taking a boat with them down the Nile. Though her main objective is sidetracked, her journey ultimately leads to uncovering a grander scheme that speaks to British colonial exploitation of Egypt and her history. Colonialism is an important topic to discuss when writing a story about the English in 1890s Egypt, and though we read the story through Clemmie’s eyes, Egyptian Mariam is a stand-in for the Egyptian perspective. She serves as a sort of reality check for Clemmie, but her role as a character isn’t fully developed beyond a few lines of description speaking to her and her father’s greater purpose in preserving and protecting Egypt’s history. Although an Egyptian character, she isn’t given enough “screen time” in this story of Egypt.

The House of Two Sisters started in an engaging and descriptive way that made me want to know more, however as the story progressed, the writing became more of a summary of events. What’s more, the author often drove too on the nose points home. Perhaps these choices were at the request of an editor or publisher, as readers are not often given enough credit for being smart or perceptive enough to pick up on nuance.

Boudicca’s Daughter by Elodie Harper is the author’s first book after the completion of The Wolf Den trilogy (one of my favorites.) Many may know about the famous Iceni warrior Boudicca who led a rebellion against Roman invaders, but little is known about her two daughters beyond the Roman accounts. History tells us that Boudicca was flogged by the Romans while they raped her daughters. Boudicca commits suicide, but what of her daughters?

Harper follows Solina, one of the daughters, in the warfare leading up to Roman defeat of the Iceni and her subsequent life in Roman captivity. The first part of the novel explores the dynamic between Solina and her mother, sister, and father. These relationships are often fraught with miscommunications and strong ideals of honor and protection of family. I found this first part to be the strongest because we see Solina in her natural state, so to speak, embracing her true identity. We also get the perspective of Boudicca (real name Catia), which offers interesting insight on how she views her daughters and husband.

Enter Roman general Paulinus, the legate of Britannia who conquers the Iceni and takes Solina, now seemingly the sole survivor of her family, into captivity. Paulinus raids the remaining Iceni settlements and takes the relics of Solina’s people for Rome’s treasure. Paulinus humiliates Solina, as well as forces her to execute one of the last surviving members of her extended family. As such, I think any reader–myself included, would be extremely put off by the budding “romance” between Solina and Paulinus.

Solina seems to develop Stockholm Syndrome with Paulinus, at first seducing him as a means to manipulate him and possibly free herself, but later she seems to develop genuine affection for him. As Solina and Paulinus eventually make it back to Rome, Solina is given to the Empress as a slave. Paulinus, once her captor and destroyer of her people, is unfortunately Solina’s only salvation.

I was excited for this book because I loved the Wolf Den trilogy, as well as the history of Boudicca, but the Stockholm Syndrome “romance” between the two main characters and the obvious exploitation of power dynamics never sat well with me. Despite the author’s attempt to make Paulinus sympathetic, I was never on board with their relationship. I kept hoping Solina would exact revenge upon him, but the story and their relationship in fact goes in the entirely opposite direction. I felt that Solina’s life in Rome, the life she builds with the man who took everything from her and her people, was so antithetical to Solina as a character. While Solina struggles with this dichotomy throughout, the ending the author provides is sadly not one that will satisfy many. What’s more, the summary of information concerning the political state of Rome in the later chapters was confusing and rushed. Ultimately, everything about the “romance” felt wrong to me and unfortunately soured my reading experience despite the author’s writing skill.

Boudicca’s Daughter will be released in the US on Sept. 2, 2025

The Huntress by Kate Quinn opens in 1950 Boston where Jordan McBride must contend with her mysterious new step-mother, Anna. Jordan’s love of and talent for photography expose a darker side of Anna, causing Jordan to try to dig deeper into Anna’s cloaked past. Meanwhile in Vienna, English journalist Ian Graham and his associate Tony are still hunting Nazi war criminals. One Lorelei Vogt, known as The Huntress, is on their list and is suspected to have fled to the US. And then there’s Nina, the former Soviet Night Witch turned deserter who married Ian during the war as a way to safely immigrate to England.

Nina was perhaps the most engaging and interesting part of this story. As The Huntress is told in a non-linear fashion, we get flashback chapters of Nina before and during the war; her pilot training, the forming of the Night Witch bomber squadron, Nina’s relationship with fellow pilot Yelena, and her ultimate defection from Soviet Russia after her father speaks ill of the government. Nina’s personality and charm leap off the pages, leaving the other characters muted in her wake. For example, the 1950 chapters with Jordan in Boston seemed modern, out of place, and slightly disjointed from the rest of the story.

While The Huntress was an entertaining read, I kept wanting to know more of Lorelei Vogt’s backstory and motivation. We get glimpses via the clues the characters uncover, but we never really get a real motivation or reason from The Huntress herself, which makes her kind of flat and unconvincing with no real arc.

While The Diamond Eye by Kate Quinn (another WWII story) is one of my favorites, The Huntress didn’t quite measure up to the emotional intensity and depth of that book. I would have rather liked an entire book about the Night Witches!

The Hounding by Xenobe Purvis is an 18th century tale of five out-of-the-ordinary sisters living in a small village in England. Raised by their grandparents, the sisters play by their own rules in a time and place where existing within a rigid set of rules and norms is expected. Anything out of the norm is viewed as suspicious, perhaps even evil or unnatural. It is these traits that draw the mingled disgusted fascination of the local ferryman Pete Darling. Purvis’s descriptions of Pete’s inner workings scream narcissistic fragile masculinity, as well as his unsettling need to crush and destroy anything out of the ordinary or anything he perceives as weak.

Although the story is about the unique sisters, the author does not provide a pov from any of them. However, I believe this choice is by design to retain the mystery of the rumors’ validity. Instead of the sisters’ perspectives, we rather get the povs of the village men who perceived them in different ways. Pete with disgust as earlier described, Robin who goes against the grain of toxic masculinity yet masks his humanity to “fit in,” Thomas, a town outsider, who has been hired for the season’s haymaking and soon falls for the eldest sister, and the girls ‘ blind grandfather who accepts and supports his granddaughters no matter what.

The one female character pov we get is from the village publican, aptly named Temperance. Temp observes the behavior of the men in the ale house, the inception and spreading of rumors, and offers a compassionate and thoughtful ear and perspective to the men around her.

Purvis plays with our perceptions as seen through unreliable narrators such as Pete, whose bias toward the girls skews his views. If we believe Pete and what the others have claimed to see regarding the girls turning into dogs, what does that say about us? And even if what he is seen is true, does this physical transformation of the girls even matter in the grand scheme? How does Robin’s masking his true, compassionate self deteriorate his integrity as he stands at the precipice of mob mentality? Purvis’s descriptions about fragile, toxic masculinity in the face of unapologetically independent women are spot on, as are her observations regarding the mob mentality of the cult of masculinity.

In the vein of the works of Susan Stokes-Chapman and Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Hounding is a short, poignant, and beautifully written tale sitting somewhere between Pride and Prejudice and The Crucible.

The Hounding will be released August 5, 2025

In The Art of a Lie by Laura Shepherd-Robinson, author of Square of Sevens, richly-paints another 18th century story a reader can easily immerse oneself in. Newly widowed Hannah Cole owns a confectionery shop in London, this fact being somewhat scandalous both on account of a woman being the sole owner of a business and also because she is not formally out of the mourning period. Whipping up new and creative confections that will make a reader’s mouth water, Hannah meets William Devereux who comes into the shop with one of her late husbands’ investment statements. William, a refined and charming gentleman, claims he was a former friend and investor to Mr. Jonas Cole.

Henry Fielding, real life 18th century author of Tom Jones, is the inspector on the case of Mr. Cole’s murder, questioning both Hannah and those around her to solve the mystery of his untimely death. Fielding investigates Cole’s gambling debts, leading him to the criminal underworld of London. In the mean time, William and Hannah become fast friends despite her desire to be tentative and guarded around this man claiming to have known her husband. William, time and time again, shows himself as almost too goo to be true. The reader knows, but not Hannah, that William is essentially a professional romance scammer. Widows are his specialty.

The reader also knows something William does not–Hannah has her own secret. One William could never fathom and one that will throw a wrench into his carefully and artfully crafted ruse. The author ‘s choice of alternating perspectives between William and Hannah builds a tension as delicious as Hannah’s confections sound; a battle of both hearts and wits. William struggles with the future exploitation of Hannah as his true feelings for her grow, unknowingly underestimating her all the while. At the same time, Hannah wars with her own true feelings while keeping her secret close. It’s a sort of “enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies” dynamic, except each party does not know the full truth on either side, each party does not know all the rules of the game. The argument could be made that William and Hannah should not be “likeable” given the things they’ve done, but still we root for them. They are, after all, casualties of poor circumstance only seeking to better their lot. How will they outwit each other, and the law, while still getting what they ultimately desire: each other?

Like Square of Sevens, Laura Shepherd-Robinson once again tightly plots with intricate detail, oftentimes keeping the reader guessing and having to stop and think about certain subtleties. I appreciate when authors don’t have the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but rather trust the readers’ powers of deduction and instinct. Also like Square, I could absolutely see this book adapted into a movie or limited series.

The Art of a Lie is already out in the UK and will be released in the US on August 5, 2025.

The Piano Player by Maybelle Wallis, the sequel to Heart of Cruelty, picks up about eight years later in Dublin. Dr. William Doughty works in Meath Hospital amidst both the Great Famine and a cholera epidemic. Meanwhile, Jane and her actor husband Edmond are newly arrived in Dublin on their theatre troupe’s tour. Jane and William’s paths intertwine once more as Edmond gets involved in suspicious gambling scheme via Dr. Wright, who is also William’s superior at the hospital.

Witnessing the day to day brutality of famine, starvation, disease, and immeasurable poverty, both Jane and William begin to unravel a conspiracy involving Dr. Wright. This intrigue plays out on a backdrop of political turmoil–Irish nationals, a doctor colleague involved, resist English colonial rule and abuses via demonstrations and dissemination of nationalistic poems and songs. Jane finds a fast friend in Anna, a wealthy young woman whose poems make their way into the Irish movement.

Wallis expertly weaves Jane and William’s stories, as well as all the moving pieces in the periphery (resistance, famine, disease, etc.) to resolve onto one central path. The tension-filled dynamic between Jane and William is realistic and not overly romanticized. Their actions and choices reflect their conflicted past, the story resolving in a way that makes sense to their character arcs. Nothing feels rushed, but earned. It should also be noted that the author’s own medical background provides detailed and interesting descriptions of mid-19th century medical practices and pathological processes.

I’m looking forward the the last book in the trilogy, Daughter of Strangers.

For as much as I enjoy Jurassic Park (the movie,) I’ve actually never read any Michael Crichton but have always intended to. I randomly stumbled across Dragon Teeth, released posthumously, which centers around the “bone wars” of early paleontology in the 1870s American West. Dragon Teeth follows 18-year-old William Johnson of Philadelphia, a Yale student who makes a bet with a bully that he will venture out to the dangerous west for a dig with Yale Paleontology professor, Marsh. Johnson is at once out of his depth, convincing Marsh to let him go if he serves as the expedition photographer. Coming from Rittenhouse Square money, Johnson is able to quickly buy all the photography equipment he needs and learn the trade to convincingly portray an expert photographer on the trip.

On the rail journey west, Marsh’s manipulative and conniving ways are soon brought to light–leaving Johnson abandoned in a frontier town and at the mercy of University of Pennsylvania professor, Cope, Marsh’s rival. However, Cope is not the harsh, cutthroat man Marsh claimed him to be, but rather a reasonable man passionate about paleontology and uncovering bones in the west–no matter the dangers. Johnson faces a brutal coming of age in the western territories, enduring attacks from drunken US cavalry, indigenous peoples defending their land, and lawless gunslingers in frontier backwaters. As such, Johnson eventually finds himself as the sole protector of hundreds of bones–stranded in the west with no money or connections, with the impossible goal to get back to Professor Cope in Philadelphia.

Dragon Teeth‘s premise was interesting, as the late 19th century American West is often associated with cowboys and gold panning, and seldomly recognized as the stage in which American Paleontology flourished. The structure and style were a little different in that many chapters would open with a sort of non-fiction historical context before getting back into Johnson’s narrative. What’s more, Johnson’s journal is often quoted as primary sources are in research papers. I’m not sure if these style choices are normal for Crichton, or if non-fiction historical context was added to support an unfinished manuscript? Dragon Teeth also read more like a play-by-play of action rather than dwelling on character development, which speaks to Crichton’s screenwriting background. In fact, Dragon Teeth would probably be better served as a film rather than a book. That said, the plot driven-first aspect made connecting with, and understanding motivations of, Johnson or the other characters a struggle.