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A Jean Fairbairn/Alasdair Cameron Mystery #1
The Secret Portrait
The Flowers o' the Forest are a' wede awa'."
Fleeing an academic scandal and a broken marriage, Jean Fairbairn has come to Scotland to work for an Edinburgh-based history and travel magazine. Writing about the Scottish national pastime of playing illusion off reality is just the quiet, scholarly pursuit she needs to soothe her burned-out emotions.
But when Jean heads for the Highlands to investigate the 18th century mystery of Bonnie Prince Charlie's lost treasure, she finds herself involved in a contemporary murder case--and not as an innocent bystander, either.
Alasdair Cameron, the police detective in charge, has his own perspective on reality and illusion. The American dot-com millionaire living out his tartan fantasies in a restored mansion is the loosest of loose cannons. His trophy wife isn't necessarily standing by her man. Their housekeeper knows what's going to happen before it does. And their youth piper is a kilted daydream, even though his parents are nightmares.
At Glendessary House, old wounds and old glories aren't distant memories evoked over a glass of single-malt, to the skirl of the pipes. Here, they are up close, personal, and deadly.
It's a good thing Jean has back-up in Edinburgh, including Michael and Rebecca Campbell-Reid from Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust, returning in cameo roles. Because if butting heads--not to mention hearts--with Cameron isn't enough to do her in, then a killer is waiting and watching, with a motive for murder not hidden nearly deeply enough in the past.
Fleeing an academic scandal and a broken marriage, Jean Fairbairn has come to Scotland to work for an Edinburgh-based history and travel magazine. Writing about the Scottish national pastime of playing illusion off reality is just the quiet, scholarly pursuit she needs to soothe her burned-out emotions.
But when Jean heads for the Highlands to investigate the 18th century mystery of Bonnie Prince Charlie's lost treasure, she finds herself involved in a contemporary murder case--and not as an innocent bystander, either.
Alasdair Cameron, the police detective in charge, has his own perspective on reality and illusion. The American dot-com millionaire living out his tartan fantasies in a restored mansion is the loosest of loose cannons. His trophy wife isn't necessarily standing by her man. Their housekeeper knows what's going to happen before it does. And their youth piper is a kilted daydream, even though his parents are nightmares.
At Glendessary House, old wounds and old glories aren't distant memories evoked over a glass of single-malt, to the skirl of the pipes. Here, they are up close, personal, and deadly.
It's a good thing Jean has back-up in Edinburgh, including Michael and Rebecca Campbell-Reid from Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust, returning in cameo roles. Because if butting heads--not to mention hearts--with Cameron isn't enough to do her in, then a killer is waiting and watching, with a motive for murder not hidden nearly deeply enough in the past.
300 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2005
21 people are currently reading
278 people want to read
About the author
Lillian Stewart Carl
64 books57 followersAuthor bio:
Lillian Stewart Carl's work often features paranormal/fantasy themes and always features plots based on mythology, history, and archaeology. Most of her novels take place squarely in the twenty-first century, where the past lingers on into the present, especially in the British Isles, Lillian's home away from home.
She is the author of nineteen novels so far, including the Jean Fairbairn/Alasdair Cameron mystery series---America's exile and Scotland's finest on the trail of all-too-living legends.
Her newest novel is Fairbairn/Cameron number six, THE MORTSAFE.
Of her mystery, fantasy, and sf short stories, twelve are available in a collection titled ALONG THE RIM OF TIME, and thirteen, including three from "Best Of the Year" anthologies, are collected in THE MUSE AND OTHER STORIES OF HISTORY, MYSTERY, and MYTH.
All of Carl's work is available in electronic as well as paper form.
She has also co-edited (with John Helfers) a retrospective of Lois McMaster's Bujold's science fiction work, titled THE VORKOSIGAN COMPANION, which was nominated for a Hugo award.
Lillian Stewart Carl's work often features paranormal/fantasy themes and always features plots based on mythology, history, and archaeology. Most of her novels take place squarely in the twenty-first century, where the past lingers on into the present, especially in the British Isles, Lillian's home away from home.
She is the author of nineteen novels so far, including the Jean Fairbairn/Alasdair Cameron mystery series---America's exile and Scotland's finest on the trail of all-too-living legends.
Her newest novel is Fairbairn/Cameron number six, THE MORTSAFE.
Of her mystery, fantasy, and sf short stories, twelve are available in a collection titled ALONG THE RIM OF TIME, and thirteen, including three from "Best Of the Year" anthologies, are collected in THE MUSE AND OTHER STORIES OF HISTORY, MYSTERY, and MYTH.
All of Carl's work is available in electronic as well as paper form.
She has also co-edited (with John Helfers) a retrospective of Lois McMaster's Bujold's science fiction work, titled THE VORKOSIGAN COMPANION, which was nominated for a Hugo award.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews
August 17, 2019
2019 Reread
Was reading another mystery series (which I haven't gotten around to reviewing yet), and midway through decided I wanted something familiar. For whatever reason, this was it.
This stands up on reread. I didn't remember anything about the mystery, and I did remember the weird supernatural aspect, so that wasn't as jarring this time around. Also, since originally reading this, I've been to Scotland, specifically Edinburgh, which was definitely fun when they were describing locations.
I also enjoy how cautious both main characters are. It's different.
Worth the reread.
2019 Reading Challenge - A ghost story
2017
Was super into this in the end. It took me literally weeks to get going on it; not sure if I just wasn't in the right mood, but when I originally started this, everything grated on my nerves. Maybe I just needed the mystery to kick off a bit more.
Either way, super into the slow burn of the relationship that's being developed.
I'm also not that annoyed at the more fantastical elements, although I did raise an eyebrow when they first came up, mostly because I wasn't expecting them.
Was reading another mystery series (which I haven't gotten around to reviewing yet), and midway through decided I wanted something familiar. For whatever reason, this was it.
This stands up on reread. I didn't remember anything about the mystery, and I did remember the weird supernatural aspect, so that wasn't as jarring this time around. Also, since originally reading this, I've been to Scotland, specifically Edinburgh, which was definitely fun when they were describing locations.
I also enjoy how cautious both main characters are. It's different.
Worth the reread.
2019 Reading Challenge - A ghost story
2017
Was super into this in the end. It took me literally weeks to get going on it; not sure if I just wasn't in the right mood, but when I originally started this, everything grated on my nerves. Maybe I just needed the mystery to kick off a bit more.
Either way, super into the slow burn of the relationship that's being developed.
I'm also not that annoyed at the more fantastical elements, although I did raise an eyebrow when they first came up, mostly because I wasn't expecting them.
August 18, 2015
This book doesn't move fast, but it is well-written and I found myself spending more and more time with my Kindle, to find out what happened next. Now I have to go figure out where to get the sequel without having to pay full price for it, eh?
Jean Fairbairn is a very likable character, bookish, clever, a transplanted American in Edinburgh, now writing feature stories for a Scottish magazine. For an article, she's gone to a very old manor house, the former home of a Scottish clan chief, which has been rebuilt by an American computer whiz who has seemingly become a bit daft (as they say) about his Scottish roots. But she arrives an hour early; in looking for the bathroom she finds herself face-to-face with a hanged man, one who clearly died only a few minutes before she found him.
After that, it gets more complicated, and she meets the detective Chief Inspector assigned to the case, Alasdair Cameron...
Jean Fairbairn is a very likable character, bookish, clever, a transplanted American in Edinburgh, now writing feature stories for a Scottish magazine. For an article, she's gone to a very old manor house, the former home of a Scottish clan chief, which has been rebuilt by an American computer whiz who has seemingly become a bit daft (as they say) about his Scottish roots. But she arrives an hour early; in looking for the bathroom she finds herself face-to-face with a hanged man, one who clearly died only a few minutes before she found him.
After that, it gets more complicated, and she meets the detective Chief Inspector assigned to the case, Alasdair Cameron...
March 14, 2014
This was an excellent story. I particularly enjoyed Jean Fairbairn as the magazine reporter with just a little bit extra and a past that is emotionally troublesome. I liked the slow boil between her and Alasdair (with his own troublesome past) and hope their relationship gets some further progress in future novels (heaven knows the progress in this one was small, though encouraging). At this point, you'd have a hard time keeping me from further stories featuring these characters with a rabid dog and rubber bullets.
The mystery itself was interesting, though it petered out some by the end. Bonus points for so vividly evoking the Scottish countryside and the particular blend of folk myth gone wrong that was at the heart of the action. I hope to get more of the lovely setting in future stories as well.
The mystery itself was interesting, though it petered out some by the end. Bonus points for so vividly evoking the Scottish countryside and the particular blend of folk myth gone wrong that was at the heart of the action. I hope to get more of the lovely setting in future stories as well.
July 26, 2025
The Secret Portrait by Lillian Stewart Carl is the first book of the Jean Fairbairn/Alisdair Cameron mystery series set in contemporary Edinburgh and Fort William. Transplanted American Jean Fairbairn writes for Great Scot magazine, which she co-owns with Miranda Capaldi, her friend of twenty years and business partner of four months.
The cafe up at the Castle is serving iced tea. Seems you Yanks can't leave home without bringing your bad habits along with you.
As you said yourself, legend is the yeast that makes history rise. Nice turn of phrase, that.
In Edinburgh in the spring, you soaked the rain up through your feet and blew it out your nose.
Historian George Lovelace brings Jean a gold coin, presumably hidden by Bonnie Prince Charlie. Jean is skeptical of its provenance. Reality was never all it was cracked up to be. Knowing that, Jean told herself, was both a drawback and an advantage to working in the history business.
"And how are you enjoying life in Scotland, Jean?" "Very much, now that I've survived the winter." "Oh aye," Michael said. "Scotland's not for the squeamish." "Neither are the Scots," added Rebecca with a glance at her husband. Jean leaves the coin in their capable hands at the Museum of Scotland.
Jean occasionally muses on events that led to her move to Scotland. But that water was so far under the bridge it had already evaporated and come back to earth as rain. National past glories were the stuff of legends. Personal might-have-beens were the stuff of neuroses.
Gold, Jean thought, was incorruptible. A shame she couldn't say the same about people.
She'd opened the front door one afternoon to find the cat lying on the stone step, basking in a rare moment of sunshine. He might just as well have announced, "Lucy, I'm home." The next thing Jean knew, she had two bowls on the kitchen floor, a litter box in the bathroom, and a warm furry beast to sit purring on her lap when rain, fog, and regret blurred her view.
Nothing wrong with assertive, Jean thought. Within the bounds of courtesy, at least. She was feeling rather assertive herself at the moment.
Jean is invited to be a guest at a country manor where she plans to interview George as well as Rick MacLyon. The rich American who bought Glendessy House. His perfectionism had earned the wealth. You didn't make a fortune in software without crossing every t and dotting every com.
Mmmm, this air smelled not of diesel but of Highland perfume--peat smoke. All the scene lacked was...Jean grinned. The sound of bagpipes echoed down the wind. Entering the mansion, Jean's plans quickly go awry--she discovers a body.
Alisdair Cameron is the homicide police detective in charge of investigating the murder. "I'm trying to place your accent. It's not Glasgow." A Glasgow accent sounded like a cat hacking up something between a hairball and a glottal stop. Cameron's voice was strewn with thistles, not hairballs.
"Chief Inspector, all it takes to make me very curious is to tell me not to ask questions." He actually did smile at that, a quick crinkle passing from one corner of his mouth along his lips and vanishing off the other corner so quickly she almost missed it. Whether he was smiling with her or at her she was fast ceasing to care.
Jean woke up feeling like the result of a scientific experiment gone horribly wrong. Her body parts didn't quite seem to fit together.
She poured herself another cup of tea. Funny, she'd never drunk hot tea with milk and sugar in her former life. Now she craved it. She was going native.
Even a civilian like Jean knew that murder by hanging was considerably less common than murder by poison or gunshot or knife.
Jean smiled. This wasn't the first time she'd heard Hugh fulminating about what Cameron called charlieoverthewaterism.
Raindrops spattered against the window. Yep, she thought, rain. That's what it did in Scotland, it rained. And when it stopped raining, its beauty alone would break your heart.
"Never underestimate the power of luck, both bad and good," Jean said with feeling.
"Questions are my specialty. Answers are another matter."
For a long moment she sat slumped, feeling too heavy to move. This shouldn't be happening...It was happening. Time to get up and deal with it.
Seagulls looked like bits of white confetti against the deep blue-gray of the clouds.
That was the problem with half-truths, they spread faster than outright lies, like a plague. But unlike outright lies, they were hard to disprove.
"One can hardly choose one's parents. If one is raised in an inferior culture, one that sets an excessive value on blunt speech, well then. One can only try to assist, even if one's efforts aren't always appreciated." Charlotte's lips shriveled into a slit.
By the time D.C. Gunn had at last taken her fingerprints, Jean would gladly have offered Sawyer her entire middle finger.
Inhaling the tang of peat smoke that hung on the air [in Fort William] like incense in a cathedral, Jean thought, yes, a little perspective helped. Eventually today's headlines would become yesterday's cautionary tale. Neither railing at fate nor cussing out the constabulary would make it happen any faster. Keeping on would.
"Charlie was no Scot. His mother was a Polish princess named Sobieski. His grandmother was Italian. His great-grandmother was French. He'd never set foot in Scotland, but still had the bloody cheek to say 'I am come home.'"
The rain had slowed to a mizzle--part mist, part drizzle.
"Andy Sawyer's a wee bit ambitious," Cameron said, as though ambition were a handicap. Clearly, his subordinate plans to take his job.
Jean sipped at her coffee--it had the muddy flavor and watery aroma of instant--and considered Cameron's profile. His features weren't distinctive--not handsome, not ugly, just symmetrical and proportional. His skin was fair, but not pasty. His ears lay flat to his head, reserved. His appearance wasn't ascetic so much as it was pared to a monastic minimum--except for the elegant ogee curve of his lips, like the tracery in a Gothic window. A stone window. Maybe his own face had become as much protective clothing as his suit. Maybe was curious over and beyond conscientious. Maybe still waters ran deep.
No, she really was hearing the sound of bagpipes, issuing from the tartan tchotchke shop down the street. From the pub next door came the thump-thump of a rock band. Combine the two and you had rock 'n' reel, the sound the blood made going through your heart.
Jean stopped her car in a passing place and indulged in a moment of appreciation. Below her Loch Lochy glowed enough shades of blue--aquamarine, azure, sapphire--to beggar a thesaurus. The light of the afternoon sun made etchings of the ridges beyond, the western sides glowing green, the eastern sides shadowed into olive-drab. Billows of white cloud seemed substantial enough to pick up in handfuls, like clotted cream. Hard to believe they were only water vapor that would vanish in a breath. Life was like that, Jean thought. Illusion. Ephemeral illusion at that, just to make a double cognitive whammy.
The short summers in this part of the world tended to produce fanatical gardeners.
A tiny photo of a fresh young couple who had to be Charlotte and Kieran on their wedding day only pointed up how they had soured over the years, by now well past their sell-by date.
"Murders, secret societies, Yanks poncing about like royalty, no thank you, I don't think so, I don't think so at all. I'm away, back to the restaurant in Inverness--manager's a right prat but we've only got the odd drunk, no murderers."
"I hear great cooks are temperamental sorts. Nervy, as you'd say around here." "Jumpy, as you'd say in the States. I'm afraid so, aye."
"Someone once said the past is another country." "Yes, but we've all lived there."
"You can't stick to the original timetable. You've got to go public now, while you can still put the right spin on it. Before that mob at the gates figure it all out and we lose control."
While tartan was genuinely historic, the clan tartan business was created during that same Regency frenzy by Walter Scott and the Sobieski-Stuart brothers, amiable charlatans who claimed to be Charlie's grandsons.
All this ducking and weaving was making her more and more curious about the Lodge. It was like hearing a siren in the distance, a sure sign that something was up.
Finally, the 'Big Reveal' at Glendessy House. What a totally far-fetched plot!
Rick was starting to look like some sort of alien tartan-bearing creature every moment. Jean had no idea just how Fiona had ended up here, in an asylum run by its owner-inmate.
Neil held up two crystal liqueur glasses and a plump-bellied bottle. "Bramble and whiskey cordial. Blackberry and Scotch, in American. Good for what ails you in any language." "Slainte." Jean drank. Oh now, that was good, a rush of sweet-tart berry and then the lingering astringent heat of the whiskey, blending incongruity with flavor.
A toy boy. That expression disparaged the man's subordinate position, not its sexual connotation. She thought again how sick she was of double standards, historical or otherwise. A woman was a slut for sleeping around. A man was a stud. She was cheap. He was lucky.
But even the most cheerful Celtic music was edged with pain. History was much too uncertain to commit yourself to joy.
It was one of Mother Nature's jokes that the memories you didn't want clung to your brain like Velcro and the ones you did want slid like an omelet off Teflon.
"A dangerous man, I've thought so all along. but I don't make disparaging remarks about anyone."
Jean ate the last package of crackers--bland and blah, some salsa would have helped. Showing her Texas roots!
Carpe diem, she pep-talked herself. Although there were some days that you seized and then dropped again, like a hot potato.
"Miranda, I've got to go see if I can track down my wits--they're chasing haggises through the heather right now."
Maybe she should try a formal workout instead of her usual exercise of bouncing off walls and jumping to conclusions.
Unlike Fiona's serenity, rueful and untouchable, Alasdair Cameron's stillness was that of an unexploded bomb.
One of these days she was going to have sex again, expanding sensitivity into sensuality, really she was. Just as soon as she figured out how to balance selling her soul and being lonely. Right now, though, breakfast would have to fill in the empty spaces.
Ragged streamers of cloud spilled over the mountains but overhead the sky was clear. The sun sparkled off every tender green leaf, every pale stone. The sight alone was cheering.
If only I'd known. Those words served as the motto beneath the coat of arms of the human race.
"I've got to get some exercise, my brain is sluggish." And if her nerves weren't shot, then they were at least standing against a wall, blindfold in place.
There was something about a kilt that made even an ordinary man devastatingly handsome. Cameron sending for his own kilt had not been doing things properly, it had been getting in touch with his inner peacock.
Neil would be handsome wearing a gunny sack, but as far as Jean was concerned, he was no longer a menu option.
Haggis slices, sauteed in a batter light as tempura, served with horseradish sauce on a pedestal of turnips roasted to a caramel brown and frilled with mashed potato. Robert Burns would never have recognized his humble Haggis, neeps, and tatties, the food of people who had to make do with what they could get. For dessert, stemmed glasses heaped with beige clouds. Atholl Brose--oatmeal, honey, cream, and whiskey.
The spectral allergens were so strong, here, now, that Kieran could see the ghost of his father advancing toward him. The moment, Jean thought incoherently, was a cross between Darth Vader's 'Luke, I am your father' and Hamlet on the battlements of Elsinore...
How much alcohol had he poured into an empty stomach? What was surprising wasn't that he'd slipped into total lunacy, but that he was speaking in complete sentences and standing on his feet to do it.
Predictably, Jean struggles to resist her attraction to Cameron through the case, but by last page she's ready to date him. Next in the series is The Murder Hole.
The cafe up at the Castle is serving iced tea. Seems you Yanks can't leave home without bringing your bad habits along with you.
As you said yourself, legend is the yeast that makes history rise. Nice turn of phrase, that.
In Edinburgh in the spring, you soaked the rain up through your feet and blew it out your nose.
Historian George Lovelace brings Jean a gold coin, presumably hidden by Bonnie Prince Charlie. Jean is skeptical of its provenance. Reality was never all it was cracked up to be. Knowing that, Jean told herself, was both a drawback and an advantage to working in the history business.
"And how are you enjoying life in Scotland, Jean?" "Very much, now that I've survived the winter." "Oh aye," Michael said. "Scotland's not for the squeamish." "Neither are the Scots," added Rebecca with a glance at her husband. Jean leaves the coin in their capable hands at the Museum of Scotland.
Jean occasionally muses on events that led to her move to Scotland. But that water was so far under the bridge it had already evaporated and come back to earth as rain. National past glories were the stuff of legends. Personal might-have-beens were the stuff of neuroses.
Gold, Jean thought, was incorruptible. A shame she couldn't say the same about people.
She'd opened the front door one afternoon to find the cat lying on the stone step, basking in a rare moment of sunshine. He might just as well have announced, "Lucy, I'm home." The next thing Jean knew, she had two bowls on the kitchen floor, a litter box in the bathroom, and a warm furry beast to sit purring on her lap when rain, fog, and regret blurred her view.
Nothing wrong with assertive, Jean thought. Within the bounds of courtesy, at least. She was feeling rather assertive herself at the moment.
Jean is invited to be a guest at a country manor where she plans to interview George as well as Rick MacLyon. The rich American who bought Glendessy House. His perfectionism had earned the wealth. You didn't make a fortune in software without crossing every t and dotting every com.
Mmmm, this air smelled not of diesel but of Highland perfume--peat smoke. All the scene lacked was...Jean grinned. The sound of bagpipes echoed down the wind. Entering the mansion, Jean's plans quickly go awry--she discovers a body.
Alisdair Cameron is the homicide police detective in charge of investigating the murder. "I'm trying to place your accent. It's not Glasgow." A Glasgow accent sounded like a cat hacking up something between a hairball and a glottal stop. Cameron's voice was strewn with thistles, not hairballs.
"Chief Inspector, all it takes to make me very curious is to tell me not to ask questions." He actually did smile at that, a quick crinkle passing from one corner of his mouth along his lips and vanishing off the other corner so quickly she almost missed it. Whether he was smiling with her or at her she was fast ceasing to care.
Jean woke up feeling like the result of a scientific experiment gone horribly wrong. Her body parts didn't quite seem to fit together.
She poured herself another cup of tea. Funny, she'd never drunk hot tea with milk and sugar in her former life. Now she craved it. She was going native.
Even a civilian like Jean knew that murder by hanging was considerably less common than murder by poison or gunshot or knife.
Jean smiled. This wasn't the first time she'd heard Hugh fulminating about what Cameron called charlieoverthewaterism.
Raindrops spattered against the window. Yep, she thought, rain. That's what it did in Scotland, it rained. And when it stopped raining, its beauty alone would break your heart.
"Never underestimate the power of luck, both bad and good," Jean said with feeling.
"Questions are my specialty. Answers are another matter."
For a long moment she sat slumped, feeling too heavy to move. This shouldn't be happening...It was happening. Time to get up and deal with it.
Seagulls looked like bits of white confetti against the deep blue-gray of the clouds.
That was the problem with half-truths, they spread faster than outright lies, like a plague. But unlike outright lies, they were hard to disprove.
"One can hardly choose one's parents. If one is raised in an inferior culture, one that sets an excessive value on blunt speech, well then. One can only try to assist, even if one's efforts aren't always appreciated." Charlotte's lips shriveled into a slit.
By the time D.C. Gunn had at last taken her fingerprints, Jean would gladly have offered Sawyer her entire middle finger.
Inhaling the tang of peat smoke that hung on the air [in Fort William] like incense in a cathedral, Jean thought, yes, a little perspective helped. Eventually today's headlines would become yesterday's cautionary tale. Neither railing at fate nor cussing out the constabulary would make it happen any faster. Keeping on would.
"Charlie was no Scot. His mother was a Polish princess named Sobieski. His grandmother was Italian. His great-grandmother was French. He'd never set foot in Scotland, but still had the bloody cheek to say 'I am come home.'"
The rain had slowed to a mizzle--part mist, part drizzle.
"Andy Sawyer's a wee bit ambitious," Cameron said, as though ambition were a handicap. Clearly, his subordinate plans to take his job.
Jean sipped at her coffee--it had the muddy flavor and watery aroma of instant--and considered Cameron's profile. His features weren't distinctive--not handsome, not ugly, just symmetrical and proportional. His skin was fair, but not pasty. His ears lay flat to his head, reserved. His appearance wasn't ascetic so much as it was pared to a monastic minimum--except for the elegant ogee curve of his lips, like the tracery in a Gothic window. A stone window. Maybe his own face had become as much protective clothing as his suit. Maybe was curious over and beyond conscientious. Maybe still waters ran deep.
No, she really was hearing the sound of bagpipes, issuing from the tartan tchotchke shop down the street. From the pub next door came the thump-thump of a rock band. Combine the two and you had rock 'n' reel, the sound the blood made going through your heart.
Jean stopped her car in a passing place and indulged in a moment of appreciation. Below her Loch Lochy glowed enough shades of blue--aquamarine, azure, sapphire--to beggar a thesaurus. The light of the afternoon sun made etchings of the ridges beyond, the western sides glowing green, the eastern sides shadowed into olive-drab. Billows of white cloud seemed substantial enough to pick up in handfuls, like clotted cream. Hard to believe they were only water vapor that would vanish in a breath. Life was like that, Jean thought. Illusion. Ephemeral illusion at that, just to make a double cognitive whammy.
The short summers in this part of the world tended to produce fanatical gardeners.
A tiny photo of a fresh young couple who had to be Charlotte and Kieran on their wedding day only pointed up how they had soured over the years, by now well past their sell-by date.
"Murders, secret societies, Yanks poncing about like royalty, no thank you, I don't think so, I don't think so at all. I'm away, back to the restaurant in Inverness--manager's a right prat but we've only got the odd drunk, no murderers."
"I hear great cooks are temperamental sorts. Nervy, as you'd say around here." "Jumpy, as you'd say in the States. I'm afraid so, aye."
"Someone once said the past is another country." "Yes, but we've all lived there."
"You can't stick to the original timetable. You've got to go public now, while you can still put the right spin on it. Before that mob at the gates figure it all out and we lose control."
While tartan was genuinely historic, the clan tartan business was created during that same Regency frenzy by Walter Scott and the Sobieski-Stuart brothers, amiable charlatans who claimed to be Charlie's grandsons.
All this ducking and weaving was making her more and more curious about the Lodge. It was like hearing a siren in the distance, a sure sign that something was up.
Finally, the 'Big Reveal' at Glendessy House. What a totally far-fetched plot!
Rick was starting to look like some sort of alien tartan-bearing creature every moment. Jean had no idea just how Fiona had ended up here, in an asylum run by its owner-inmate.
Neil held up two crystal liqueur glasses and a plump-bellied bottle. "Bramble and whiskey cordial. Blackberry and Scotch, in American. Good for what ails you in any language." "Slainte." Jean drank. Oh now, that was good, a rush of sweet-tart berry and then the lingering astringent heat of the whiskey, blending incongruity with flavor.
A toy boy. That expression disparaged the man's subordinate position, not its sexual connotation. She thought again how sick she was of double standards, historical or otherwise. A woman was a slut for sleeping around. A man was a stud. She was cheap. He was lucky.
But even the most cheerful Celtic music was edged with pain. History was much too uncertain to commit yourself to joy.
It was one of Mother Nature's jokes that the memories you didn't want clung to your brain like Velcro and the ones you did want slid like an omelet off Teflon.
"A dangerous man, I've thought so all along. but I don't make disparaging remarks about anyone."
Jean ate the last package of crackers--bland and blah, some salsa would have helped. Showing her Texas roots!
Carpe diem, she pep-talked herself. Although there were some days that you seized and then dropped again, like a hot potato.
"Miranda, I've got to go see if I can track down my wits--they're chasing haggises through the heather right now."
Maybe she should try a formal workout instead of her usual exercise of bouncing off walls and jumping to conclusions.
Unlike Fiona's serenity, rueful and untouchable, Alasdair Cameron's stillness was that of an unexploded bomb.
One of these days she was going to have sex again, expanding sensitivity into sensuality, really she was. Just as soon as she figured out how to balance selling her soul and being lonely. Right now, though, breakfast would have to fill in the empty spaces.
Ragged streamers of cloud spilled over the mountains but overhead the sky was clear. The sun sparkled off every tender green leaf, every pale stone. The sight alone was cheering.
If only I'd known. Those words served as the motto beneath the coat of arms of the human race.
"I've got to get some exercise, my brain is sluggish." And if her nerves weren't shot, then they were at least standing against a wall, blindfold in place.
There was something about a kilt that made even an ordinary man devastatingly handsome. Cameron sending for his own kilt had not been doing things properly, it had been getting in touch with his inner peacock.
Neil would be handsome wearing a gunny sack, but as far as Jean was concerned, he was no longer a menu option.
Haggis slices, sauteed in a batter light as tempura, served with horseradish sauce on a pedestal of turnips roasted to a caramel brown and frilled with mashed potato. Robert Burns would never have recognized his humble Haggis, neeps, and tatties, the food of people who had to make do with what they could get. For dessert, stemmed glasses heaped with beige clouds. Atholl Brose--oatmeal, honey, cream, and whiskey.
The spectral allergens were so strong, here, now, that Kieran could see the ghost of his father advancing toward him. The moment, Jean thought incoherently, was a cross between Darth Vader's 'Luke, I am your father' and Hamlet on the battlements of Elsinore...
How much alcohol had he poured into an empty stomach? What was surprising wasn't that he'd slipped into total lunacy, but that he was speaking in complete sentences and standing on his feet to do it.
Predictably, Jean struggles to resist her attraction to Cameron through the case, but by last page she's ready to date him. Next in the series is The Murder Hole.
December 24, 2014
Excellent writing does not go hand in hand with good storytelling. I consider gifted writing a treat. In the end, readers must be entertained: compelling scenarios, characters, flavour, a fine wordsmith... Unfortunately this book’s pacing lagged. Although always elegant or intelligently witty; she was too verbose on every page. Lapses of thought during dialogue should clarify or enhance a conversation, not interrupt its flow. Lillian Stewart Carl’s knowledge of history is exceptional and I gleaned snippets of education that I consider a gift. Alas, it was delivered under the umbrella of a mystery, a genre that can only be realized if puzzle-solving and adventuring come first. Heavy interjections needed to be tempered, if mystery is to gather the momentum it needs to remain energetic.
I was thrilled the paranormal crept into the story, my favourite form of literature above all. Those moments seeped in so discreetly and unexpectedly, they are the most believable I’ve ever seen in fiction novels. A sense of awe permeated the tone of those scenes better than any other too. What’s regretful is that I had been slogging through the surrounding pages too much to enjoy them; intensity and mystical flavour appearing too sparsely to boost the pace.
This book deserves a higher rating for originality, talent, history, and the best demonstration of cultural dialogue bar none. Lillian clearly knows the modern Scot. I loved observing their speech; her strongest trait. It’s a shame I had to push myself through the pages. The major letdown is that the synopsis describes a treasure hunt. There is none. I wish there were a secret portrait too. We introduce a coin but merely wander around an American’s modernized castle, pondering a murder. I’m keen on Lillian’s next book. Perhaps she balances her content and matches the other descriptions better.
I was thrilled the paranormal crept into the story, my favourite form of literature above all. Those moments seeped in so discreetly and unexpectedly, they are the most believable I’ve ever seen in fiction novels. A sense of awe permeated the tone of those scenes better than any other too. What’s regretful is that I had been slogging through the surrounding pages too much to enjoy them; intensity and mystical flavour appearing too sparsely to boost the pace.
This book deserves a higher rating for originality, talent, history, and the best demonstration of cultural dialogue bar none. Lillian clearly knows the modern Scot. I loved observing their speech; her strongest trait. It’s a shame I had to push myself through the pages. The major letdown is that the synopsis describes a treasure hunt. There is none. I wish there were a secret portrait too. We introduce a coin but merely wander around an American’s modernized castle, pondering a murder. I’m keen on Lillian’s next book. Perhaps she balances her content and matches the other descriptions better.
Read
February 10, 2014Got about halfway through and found the story exceedingly slow moving. Found it too easy to put down. I liked the setting (Scotland) and the main character was well drawn but that is about all I can recommend going for this book. Pity, the storyline sounded really good.
2/14 - I'm afraid that I still could not finish this book. I had only about 100 pages left but as the story went along it slowly ground to a halt. I tried my best to keep reading but I found it very slow going where nothing much of anything happened.
I have to mention again that this is a shame because the ideas for these stories is a good one and the book description sounds like it would be a really good yarn, but unfortunately, it just doesn't work for me. :(
2/14 - I'm afraid that I still could not finish this book. I had only about 100 pages left but as the story went along it slowly ground to a halt. I tried my best to keep reading but I found it very slow going where nothing much of anything happened.
I have to mention again that this is a shame because the ideas for these stories is a good one and the book description sounds like it would be a really good yarn, but unfortunately, it just doesn't work for me. :(
May 16, 2023
"TARTAN AND TERROR
"Bonnie Prince Charlie's lost treasure lures Edinburgh-based American magazine editor Jean Fairbairn to the Highlands, where madness, murder and ghosts bring the past to life -- and sudden death. Retired university professor George Lovelace asks Jean to authenticate a gold coin he believes dates back to the royal purse, but Jean suspects he has a secret, more self-serving motive. Still, she's shocked to stumble upon his murdered body in a centuries-old castle recently purchased by an eccentric American millionaire and his trophy wife.
"As the skirl of bagpipes and trail of blood pull Jean into a modern mystery with ties to the last Stuart pretender, Alasdair Cameron -- the police detective in charge -- uncovers a shocking twist. Meanwhile a killer closes in, determined to keep history dead and buried, along with a few present-day victims."
~~back cover
It took a while to get into this book. I'm not sure why, but the first 100 pages or so were slow slogging. Eventually it grew on me, and I was happily ensconced in the hunt for the killer, and the possible (but unlikely?) attraction between Jean and the detective, who seemed as cold blooded as they come.
The ending was very much a surprise, and quite exciting.
"Bonnie Prince Charlie's lost treasure lures Edinburgh-based American magazine editor Jean Fairbairn to the Highlands, where madness, murder and ghosts bring the past to life -- and sudden death. Retired university professor George Lovelace asks Jean to authenticate a gold coin he believes dates back to the royal purse, but Jean suspects he has a secret, more self-serving motive. Still, she's shocked to stumble upon his murdered body in a centuries-old castle recently purchased by an eccentric American millionaire and his trophy wife.
"As the skirl of bagpipes and trail of blood pull Jean into a modern mystery with ties to the last Stuart pretender, Alasdair Cameron -- the police detective in charge -- uncovers a shocking twist. Meanwhile a killer closes in, determined to keep history dead and buried, along with a few present-day victims."
~~back cover
It took a while to get into this book. I'm not sure why, but the first 100 pages or so were slow slogging. Eventually it grew on me, and I was happily ensconced in the hunt for the killer, and the possible (but unlikely?) attraction between Jean and the detective, who seemed as cold blooded as they come.
The ending was very much a surprise, and quite exciting.
August 12, 2023
Jean Fairbairn is fleeing a academic scandal and failed marriage and comes to Scotland to write for a Scottish travel and history magazine. When an elderly gentleman brings her a coin from the era of Bonnie Prince Charlie to have authenticated by the Museum of Scotland she is left with a lot of questions. Her boss quickly gets her an interview with the new American owner of Glendessary House she travels to Fort William to get her interview. While at Glendessary House she finds the elderly gentleman dead in the game larder and ends up helping the policeman, Alasdair Cameron with the mystery of George Lovelace's death. How she and the police discover the killer makes for an engaging read.
March 5, 2024
Bonnie Prince Charlie revival mystery
This novel is the first in the series introducing us to Jean Fairbairn , part owner of Great Scot magazine, and Adastair Cameron, the chief detective called in to solve the murder. These two main characters both have skeletons in their private and work lives but even though they are cool intellectual people they are likeable. The rest of the characters leave much to be desired in likeability and thus, the suspect list is long. The Manor where the story takes place has a ghost, Archie, and Jean is able to put him at rest in the company of his best friend. Fairly quick read and an exciting conclusion.
This novel is the first in the series introducing us to Jean Fairbairn , part owner of Great Scot magazine, and Adastair Cameron, the chief detective called in to solve the murder. These two main characters both have skeletons in their private and work lives but even though they are cool intellectual people they are likeable. The rest of the characters leave much to be desired in likeability and thus, the suspect list is long. The Manor where the story takes place has a ghost, Archie, and Jean is able to put him at rest in the company of his best friend. Fairly quick read and an exciting conclusion.
January 18, 2019
A marvelous blend of history, mystery, and a bit of the paranormal
I recently discovered this author and am so glad I did. The Jean Fairbairn/Alasdair Cameron mystery series is a wonderful blending of history, mystery, a bit of romance, and a touch of the paranormal. The plots are complex and the characters well developed and thoroughly believable. I can't wait to read more in this fascinating series.
I recently discovered this author and am so glad I did. The Jean Fairbairn/Alasdair Cameron mystery series is a wonderful blending of history, mystery, a bit of romance, and a touch of the paranormal. The plots are complex and the characters well developed and thoroughly believable. I can't wait to read more in this fascinating series.
January 6, 2018
3.5 stars
July 3, 2021
The story line is astounding, it has all the right ingredients for a romance.
February 13, 2022
A bit confusing as to characters. Somewhat interesting mystery.
December 15, 2023
A library find.
December 2023.
Intriguing.
Suspenseful.
December 2023.
Intriguing.
Suspenseful.
July 28, 2019
Enjoyed this second read as much as the first five years ago ... on to the next.
November 6, 2008
THE SECRET PORTRAIT (Mys/Para-Jean Fairbairn-Scotland-Cont) – G+
Carl, Lillian Stewart – 1st of series
Five Star, 2005, US Hardcover – ISBN:1594143072
First sentence: Jean Fairbairn sat on the stone windowsill of her office, if hardly in command then at least in admiration of all she surveyed.
Historian and half-owner in a Scottish magazine, Jean Fairbairn is visited by George Lovelace, an older gentleman at her office. He claims to have found, and shows Jean, a old gold coin. The coin is a Louis d’Or, one of the lost hoard sent by Louis of France to Scotland in order to restore Bonnie Prince Charlie to the throne. He asks that Jean have the coin authenticated and leaves it with her. Jean travels to Glendessery House, now owned by an American dot.com millionaire with an obsession for Bonnie Charlie, and to visit again with George. Instead she finds the nearly murdered body of George, and a not-so-recent ghost wandering the halls.
Ms. Carl creates wonderful characters. Jean is bright, has dry humor, questions her judgment in men and is neither young nor stunningly attractive and wear glasses; all quite refreshing characteristics. She and Chief Inspector Alasdair Cameron find they share an ability but are cautious with each other; another refreshing element rather than the usual coup de foudre often found used between characters.
The dialogue occasionally felt off to me. A couple secondary characters early in the story ‘sounded’ more Irish than Scots, but that might just be me. The elements of history were clearly well researched and interesting, as was the sense of place. Carl does have a wonderful, very visual voice.
The book had a great opening; however, I found this a slower read than the previous books I’ve read by Ms. Carl. The story did pick up toward the end and build to a suspenseful and satisfactory conclusion. There are two, so far, more books in this series and I do look forward to reading them.
Carl, Lillian Stewart – 1st of series
Five Star, 2005, US Hardcover – ISBN:1594143072
First sentence: Jean Fairbairn sat on the stone windowsill of her office, if hardly in command then at least in admiration of all she surveyed.
Historian and half-owner in a Scottish magazine, Jean Fairbairn is visited by George Lovelace, an older gentleman at her office. He claims to have found, and shows Jean, a old gold coin. The coin is a Louis d’Or, one of the lost hoard sent by Louis of France to Scotland in order to restore Bonnie Prince Charlie to the throne. He asks that Jean have the coin authenticated and leaves it with her. Jean travels to Glendessery House, now owned by an American dot.com millionaire with an obsession for Bonnie Charlie, and to visit again with George. Instead she finds the nearly murdered body of George, and a not-so-recent ghost wandering the halls.
Ms. Carl creates wonderful characters. Jean is bright, has dry humor, questions her judgment in men and is neither young nor stunningly attractive and wear glasses; all quite refreshing characteristics. She and Chief Inspector Alasdair Cameron find they share an ability but are cautious with each other; another refreshing element rather than the usual coup de foudre often found used between characters.
The dialogue occasionally felt off to me. A couple secondary characters early in the story ‘sounded’ more Irish than Scots, but that might just be me. The elements of history were clearly well researched and interesting, as was the sense of place. Carl does have a wonderful, very visual voice.
The book had a great opening; however, I found this a slower read than the previous books I’ve read by Ms. Carl. The story did pick up toward the end and build to a suspenseful and satisfactory conclusion. There are two, so far, more books in this series and I do look forward to reading them.
February 8, 2011
The Secret Portrait
By: Lillian Stewart Carl
Copyright April 2005
This is the first book in the Jean Fairbairn – Alistair Cameron Mystery series. Here we meet the main character s for the first time. Jean was an academic in the US, who after a bit of trouble back home, a nice cash settlement and a divorce from the marriage that shouldn’t have been, is living in Scotland as the silent partner of a magazine called “Great Scott”.
She is visited at her office by a gentleman named George Lovelace, a retired academic formerly with Leicester University. He is bringing her a gold coin which he would like her help in getting authenticated. This coin supposedly had been part of Prince Charles’ treasure which disappeared into history after his failed attempt at gaining the Throne of Scotland in 1745. Mr. Lovelace gives her a story which while she finds it a bit shady, intrigues her enough that she agrees to take the coin to someone for verification.
While visiting her friend at the museum she finds out that Lovelace lied to her about his experience in dealing with the museum regarding found treasures. This peaks her interest and she is now determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. Her partner in the meantime is arranging for her to take a trip up to where Lovelace lives under the pretense of interviewing Rick MacLyon an American Millionaire who has rebuilt a large Manor house and considers himself an expert on the Bonnie Prince.
There’s murder a ghost or two and a very interesting Detective Chief Inspector to meet. I love the way Ms. Carl gives us this mix of diverse characters and brings them to life while totally entertaining us.
FTC Full Disclosure – This book was sent to me by the author in hopes that I would review it.
By: Lillian Stewart Carl
Copyright April 2005
This is the first book in the Jean Fairbairn – Alistair Cameron Mystery series. Here we meet the main character s for the first time. Jean was an academic in the US, who after a bit of trouble back home, a nice cash settlement and a divorce from the marriage that shouldn’t have been, is living in Scotland as the silent partner of a magazine called “Great Scott”.
She is visited at her office by a gentleman named George Lovelace, a retired academic formerly with Leicester University. He is bringing her a gold coin which he would like her help in getting authenticated. This coin supposedly had been part of Prince Charles’ treasure which disappeared into history after his failed attempt at gaining the Throne of Scotland in 1745. Mr. Lovelace gives her a story which while she finds it a bit shady, intrigues her enough that she agrees to take the coin to someone for verification.
While visiting her friend at the museum she finds out that Lovelace lied to her about his experience in dealing with the museum regarding found treasures. This peaks her interest and she is now determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. Her partner in the meantime is arranging for her to take a trip up to where Lovelace lives under the pretense of interviewing Rick MacLyon an American Millionaire who has rebuilt a large Manor house and considers himself an expert on the Bonnie Prince.
There’s murder a ghost or two and a very interesting Detective Chief Inspector to meet. I love the way Ms. Carl gives us this mix of diverse characters and brings them to life while totally entertaining us.
FTC Full Disclosure – This book was sent to me by the author in hopes that I would review it.
April 28, 2016
Ugh. Where do I begin to list all the things I disliked about this book? The author represents the main character as a respected historian/journalist (like all things about her, the author doesn't seem to be able to make up her her mind about which it is). When presented with a mysterious gold coin that could be part of the lost hoard of Bonnie Prince Charlie she "disguises" her mission as an interview of an eccentric billionaire who is ready to launch a new computer game. While there, the man who gave her the gold coin is murdered while our main character is busy leering and lusting after a young piper. This is one of the more disgusting aspects of this unpleasant woman's character, she turn out to be something of a cougar, at least in this book. Who knows what will happen in the next one (I don't think I'll be anxious to find out any time soon!). Oh, and that's not all--turn out she's psychic and sees a ghost haunting the "castle"! Every twee, tartan Scottish cliche' is trotted out and sneered over even though the main character "prides" herself on being an assimilated American to Scottish ways. She loves to look down on tourists who come to Scotland to research their clans and heritage but she herself bemoans the lack of salsa for her crackers for breakfast! She's in the Highlands, in the middle of nowhere and she's expecting SALSA?? That and the fact that she calls biscuits "cookies" and the police Inspector is ridiculously unprofessional, I could tell that the author never lived in Scotland but only did the occasional tourist bit. All the peripheral characters seem to be out of the pages of Beano or The Broons. Ugh and again ugh. The history may be accurate but in this instance, who cares?
February 3, 2014
I came to The Secret Portrait by way of John Scalzi's big idea feature. Lillian Stewart Carl wrote a piece promoting the newest mystery in her Fairbairn/Cameron series, I was intrigued and decided to start with the first book. I hope her writing has improved as her series progressed. A somewhat heavy hand with description, featuring an over-reliance on similes, made a good portion of the book a plod. Despite a fairly engaging heroine (despite her annoying habit of thinking in simile!) and the allure of a Highland setting, I wasn't fully engaged until halfway in when the investigation seemed to finally kick in. The mystery was fairly easy to solve as the story progressed, and despite some action toward the end, I found the only interesting element to be the growing relationship between writer/historian Jean Fairbairn and Detective Chief Inspector Alasdair Cameron. I haven't decided if I will pick up the next in the series...I am afraid if I read yet another simile describing the Scottish scenery, I may be forced to throw my Kindle across the room.
November 17, 2014
Always on the lookout for new mysteries novels, I chanced upon The Secret Portrait and decided to give it a try. Set in the modern Highlands of Scotland, the scenery immediately lends itself to an uncomfortable sense of danger and tragedy. Combined with a cast of suspects that were not the paper thin characters of many mysteries, it quenched my thirst for intrigue.
As stated by some other reviewers the story does seem to suffer from lag at the beginning, the device of the gold coin initially weak and possibly not used to its greatest potential. However it does its job good enough to force the meeting of the characters for a classic murder to occur. The depth of the characters overcomes any shortfalls, and we eagerly follow the burgeoning relationship between journalist Jean Fairbairn and Detective Chief Inspector Cameron as they try and solve the crime.
The mystery itself is what you hope for in this kind of book, challenging enough to keep you interested but not overly complicated. I liked it and will most likely continue on with more in the series.
As stated by some other reviewers the story does seem to suffer from lag at the beginning, the device of the gold coin initially weak and possibly not used to its greatest potential. However it does its job good enough to force the meeting of the characters for a classic murder to occur. The depth of the characters overcomes any shortfalls, and we eagerly follow the burgeoning relationship between journalist Jean Fairbairn and Detective Chief Inspector Cameron as they try and solve the crime.
The mystery itself is what you hope for in this kind of book, challenging enough to keep you interested but not overly complicated. I liked it and will most likely continue on with more in the series.
April 26, 2011
This was a very interesting book. It introduces an Historian and co-owner of a History/Travel magazine by the name of Jean Fairbairn. Jean is from Texas but feels totally at home in Edinburgh, Scotland.
An elderly military man comes to see Jean with a coin that is believed to be that of a missing treasure of Bonnie Prince Charlie's.
Quickly, Jean takes off to verify and research this find. What she finds, is the body of her informant. Stuck in the manor house, Jean is living with a murderer and can only rely on the police force also sharing the house.
This book is well paced and filled with Scottish color as the dialog carries you onward to find the culprit. I found the mix of myth, legends, ghosts, reality to be well done and am anxious to read further novels in this series.
An elderly military man comes to see Jean with a coin that is believed to be that of a missing treasure of Bonnie Prince Charlie's.
Quickly, Jean takes off to verify and research this find. What she finds, is the body of her informant. Stuck in the manor house, Jean is living with a murderer and can only rely on the police force also sharing the house.
This book is well paced and filled with Scottish color as the dialog carries you onward to find the culprit. I found the mix of myth, legends, ghosts, reality to be well done and am anxious to read further novels in this series.
June 10, 2018
Formerly an academic, Jean Fairbairn has divorced her husband, moved to Scotland, and invested in a magazine run by an old friend. When an elderly man shows her the gold coin he's found, she heads north, to interview him and a conveniently located American millionaire who is collecting Jacobite material, both fodder for stories. But what she finds is a dead body, and a police chief inspector who seems to be able to read her mind, and who turns out to share her ability to see ghosts. A great introduction to this series.
February 15, 2017
This book might have been better, but it was probably about twice the length it needed to be. The main character's lusting after men, in particular a much younger one , and the pages and pages of "tension building" in various scenes got tedious. Also, the paranormal abilities that pretty much everyone seemed to have almost seemed tacked on - the MC and her detective buddy-soon-to-be-romantic-interest easily could have found out the few things they needed to with a little judicious research. 2.5 stars.
September 1, 2016
This is the second book of the series that I have read, although actually the first one of the series. I am constantly impressed by the writing, which far transcends in descriptive phrases, a series mystery. My favorite line in this book was "a woman easing into middle-age as though into a cold swimming pool".
January 21, 2011
I enjoyed the Scotish location in the book and believe it's a good first in the series book. That being said I thought the middle began to drag just a bit and it took a bit to long for Jean and Alasdair figure things out.
July 6, 2014
I have enjoyed the entire Jean Fairbairn/Alasdair Cameron mystery series. They are set in Scotland, involve history, and a restrained romance I found much more realistic than that found in many books.
October 31, 2014
First of a great series of mysteries with light supernatural touches. It follows an American living in Edinburgh who gets involved in murder, and more, in Scotland. The first involves an American game millionare and Jacobites :)
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December 25, 2014For some reason, I can read pure fantasy, but when we have what appears to be our world with ghosts, I can't finish. Too bad, as the book was interesting until the protagonist actually saw a ghost. Maybe it's because people really believe in ghosts.
August 19, 2022
May have found a new favorite author
Began reading this book from a sense of boredom more than anything else, but then realized I was immersed and truly enjoying the read. May need to add this author to my list of favorites!
Began reading this book from a sense of boredom more than anything else, but then realized I was immersed and truly enjoying the read. May need to add this author to my list of favorites!
October 13, 2008
Nice, interesting mystery set in modern Scotland. The main characters are interesting, the mystery tight. I shall definitely be reading the next in the series.
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