I love historical romances, rich in perfect period detail, well researched, and lushly written. The Irish Healer, Nancy Herriman’s debut novel, is all of that and more.
I will be honest and say I would normally have bypassed this one since it’s billed as “inspirational/Christian” romance. That is way outside my reading comfort zone as a non-Christian. And that would have been a tragedy. I would have missed a tender, beautiful, glorious romance that made my heart sing and left me with happy tears at the end.
Rachel Dunne—the Irish healer of the title—is running away. Although acquitted of murdering a child under her care, she’s come to London to escape the scandal of her past, vowing to give up her gift of healing, believing it’s really a curse. She finds work with Dr. James Edmunds, a man with tragedies of his own in his past, a physician who is also in the process of giving up his medical practice. Rachel vows only to work as a sort of secretary for him. She will not help him in medical matters, will not sit at the bedside of patients, will not trust or use her own special gifts.
James and Rachel have each in their own way given up on God, as they believe God has abandoned them. This love story is about healing—not only the bodies of those they comfort and serve, but their own hearts and faith and each other.
Inspirational references are woven in subtly, without browbeating the reader with it, which was what I had feared from an inspirational romance. Again, I could not have been more wrong. This is a book about the universal themes of loss and forgiveness, about finding redemption, and most powerfully, about finding love. It transcends a specific, single belief system. It’s about learning to forgive yourself, and love yourself; about accepting love and forgiveness from others.
And make no mistake, this is first and foremost, a romance, as sweet and delicious and yummy as you could want. There is no overt sex in this book; there’s barely a single kiss. But oh, the yearning! The longing! Ms. Herriman beautifully, powerfully builds the tension, page by page, a glance, a touch, a sigh at a time, until the reader is as wound up as Rachel and James, an ember about to burst into a conflagration. This is a truly romantic romance.
The power of faith is the backbone of this feast of a novel, but love—God’s and man’s—is the heart and soul of it. I’ve never been happier to have been wrong about something. Missing out on this wonderful book would have been a tragedy indeed.