Leo Sweetwater holds a coveted licence for daguerreotype at Hampton Court Palace, surrounded by genteelly impoverished grace-and-favour residents and crowds of eager day-trippers.
He also holds three closely-guarded secrets: his affections lie with men, he’s in love with his best friend, Cole, and he’s been haunted since childhood by the ghosts of the Palace.
An affair with an earl’s son is probably not the best idea for a man with a reputation to protect and so many things to hide, but Leo’s lonely and Harry’s very handsome. When the ill-advised fling has unexpected repercussions, secrets are threatened, shades of the past stir, and Leo must contend with malign forces, both from beyond the veil and among the living.
Luckily, he’s got Cole, his dog, and a friendly ghost on his side.
Wendy Palmer lives in Bridgetown, Western Australia with her partner, son, dogs, goats, alpacas, bees and chickens. She's patted tigers, ridden elephants, dog-sledded across glaciers, faced down lions in the Serengeti, swum with whale sharks, and camped in the Sahara, but she not-so-secretly prefers curling up with a good book.
She writes fantasy fiction with entertaining characters, enjoyably perilous adventures, romantic entanglements, some dark undertones, but always happy, hopeful endings.
My second book of this author and I am standing by my thought on the first, which is the need for a hard nosed development editor. There's tons to love about this--well drawn characters, good UST and yearning, interesting worldbuilding and good writing--and the setting at the grace and favour apartments at Hampton Court is brilliant. But, probably because that's so interesting, there are wildly too many characters introduced (to say nothing of all the ghosts) and the pacing suffers accordingly. I kind of feel this could have been a really interesting collection of stories linked set round the grace and favour apartments, and separately a romance about a photographer and a gardener that wasn't slowed down by all the other bits. As it was the combination just didn't click into place for me.
Baffling and regrettable choice to make chapter 1 an impenetrable thicket of names and family relationships and grievances that nearly made me quit 3 times and ultimately didn't matter a whit to the story. Classic case of an author too in love with their own research -- the author's note stretches many pages -- and unable or unwilling to see that it buries rather than enriches the story. I quite liked Leo, Cole, Polly and the Fitzhenrys (and of course, the true hero: Max), but oh, for a sterner editorial hand!
I am so glad that Bloody Stupid Johnson really was a Discworld reference! I enjoyed this but, as a fluent French speaker, I wish the author had taken more care with the inclusion of French ― it’s possible that two close friends in the 19th century would address each other using vous (formal) instead of tu (informal), but they wouldn’t switch back and forth between vouvoiement and tutoiement, especially not within the same conversation. There were a couple other minor French errors as well, nothing as egregious but not the standard I expect from Palmer.
One must reconcile oneself to inevitability: even the best writers stumble.
I thought Little Wolf and the Witch, Wendy Palmer's previous book, was just about perfect, no notes, but this one does its best to push readers away with what @Kathleen correctly characterizes (and you might as well read her review, linked) as "an impenetrable thicket of names and family relationships and grievances" in the opening chapter, not to mention the detailed descriptions of play in whist, a game probably even 99% of histrom fans don't know the rules of.
Also, for once in a Wendy Palmer book the sex is kind of dull.
All of this is a pity, because the actual story, featuring a haunted palace and a protagonist, Leo, who sees ghosts and for whose safety it's essential that they not see him, is pretty great, with a whole thematic thing going on about secrecy, honesty, fear, loneliness, how these conditions limit his ability to connect with people. And Leo's love interest, Cole, is a sweetheart, appeal readily understood, etc., not to mention the heroic dog Max, aka Mr Fluffy Face.
Working my way through Wendy Palmer's backlist. In Grace & Favour, Leo Sweetwater has a coveted space in a boarding house for aristocrats, making daguerreotypes for a living. It would be a cushy position, if not for his many problems: he has a doomed crush on his best friend, he's riddled with anxiety, and he's desperately hiding his ability to see ghosts.
Grace & Favour was a departure from the usual Palmer in that it's almost straight historical fiction, if it wasn't for the ghosts. Palmer's obviously done her research, and has staked out an original corner of the very heavily trodden Victorian period. I didn't know that one of the royal palaces was split into apartments and granted to mostly noblewomen in genteel poverty. With so many aristocrats, particularly aristocrats desperate to marry off their poor daughters, it's a setting rife with intrigue, and Palmer delivers. The one flaw with the historical research is that Palmer clearly couldn't bear to leave out any of the characters she researched, and the book is stuffed to the gills with minor side characters who appear only very briefly. I don't usually have difficulty keeping track of characters, and I found it a bit overwhelming. I also began to suspect that the ghost concept was an excuse to wedge in just a few more historical personages who happened to inconveniently die before the book's setting...
The romance itself is sweet and understated. Most of the actual novel is occupied with Leo's inadvisable fling with the young and unpleasant noble scion Harry. While Harry's true awfulness slowly blossoms, Leo pines sadly over his best friend Cole, who is an illegitimate biracial son of an aristocrat who works as Hampton Court's gardener. And, unlike Harry, an actual decent person, who's intriguingly implied to be aspec. Meanwhile, even as Leo is mired in his personal romantic drama, a sinister ghostly presence spreads its influence in Hampton Court...
Some nice touches with the setting, particularly the bits about early daguerreotype, but not my favorite of Palmer's work. For a similar premise with a sleeker execution, I liked KJ Charles' An Unseen Attraction.
It’s Wendy Palmer so you should just read it. It’s also Wendy Palmer flirting with the cosy ghost story genre, while never falling into twee. In fact, I think this might almost be a story about Polly, my favourite ever fictional (or not) ghost, with a lovely little love story as a delicious snack on the side.
I enjoyed all the grace and favor characters. I could just imagine that community ripe with gossip and competition. The pace on this book was slow and steady.
An enjoyable read, but took a while to get going. The litany of character names in the beginning was a bit much to deal with, especially as most weren't really seen again.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The exposition could have used a lighter touch and the plot would have benefited from a heightened sense of danger, but I really enjoyed this. It's a return to form after Little Wolf and the Witch.
A non-exhaustive list of things I loved:
- the ghosts!
- how richly drawn the setting is and how much detail is expended on Leo's artistry;
- the complications of community among the grace-and-favour residents;
- the conversations between Leo and Cole about the latter's Malay heritage and his place in his family;
- Cole's habit of bringing fruit to Leo ('Leo would absolutely not let himself imagine holding Cole's hand, not after he'd been so transported by the fig');
- this quote: '...like a scurrilous suspicion was dawning on him, about just how much he must have been inhabiting Leo's thoughts, to produce such a magnitude of thoughtfulness.'
- the tension caused by the unfortunate transparency of Leo's vulnerabilities;
- the importance of Leo's friendships, beyond his relationship with Cole; and
- Polly's disdain for the earl's son's use of Donne for pick-up lines: '...Already a seducers' cliche in my time and the man was barely in his grave.'