In British-occupied Newport, Rhode Island, the most dangerous weapons are the people the enemy refuses to see.
Newport, Rhode Island is the crown jewel of the colonies—one of the most beautiful cities, one of the wealthiest, with the finest natural harbor in the new world. Rhode Island is a hotbed of rebellion, and the British have made an example of it: brutally occupying the city, blockading the harbor, and cutting off trade. More than half the population has fled the island, every tree has been cut down to feed the voracious need for firewood, and the British have begun tearing down the houses of those who left for fuel.
William and Mary Hazard have spent their marriage choosing principle over profit: refusing the slave trade, sheltering the vulnerable, building something decent in a city being consumed by British occupation. When soldiers raid their provisions shop and arrest them in front of their children, their careful neutrality is shattered. Survival now demands something far more dangerous than principle.
The Hazard family fights back the only way they can: in the shadows. Mary becomes the architect of a covert intelligence network hidden in plain sight, drawing on the networks women have always maintained—the gossip of officers' wives, the quiet solidarity of those the powerful ignore. William navigates a deadly game of mutual blackmail with British command. Their daughter Bridget, who has been secretly documenting British patrol patterns for two years, finally has someone to give the intelligence to. And their son Benjamin is drawn into a dangerous double game when he catches the eye of a brilliant British counterintelligence officer.
Their allies are as unlikely as they are formidable. Duchess Quamino, an enslaved caterer, risks being torn from her children to spy on British officers from inside their own dining rooms. Her intelligence is a lifeline for her husband, John, a free Black man braving the brutal Atlantic to earn the money to buy his family's liberty. He sails as first officer to Harry Sherman, a dangerous, grieving privateer captain waging a relentless war of vengeance against the empire that murdered his wife.
As a massive French fleet approaches and a catastrophic hurricane threatens to destroy everything, the Hazards and their allies must navigate the razor's edge of espionage.
The Hazard Trade is a story of ordinary people doing extraordinary things in the shadows of history—and of what it truly costs to resist.
Book one in an ongoing series, The Hazard Trade is a historical thriller set in Colonial Newport, Rhode Island. Think Turn: Washington's Spies meets The Alice Network.
Eric Picard lives in Newport, RI with his wife Erynn in a home called The Conservatory that was built as a Livery Stable in 1680. In a former life, Eric was a commercial boat captain, SCUBA diver, and Lighthouse Keeper. For 25 years he's worked as a technologist at companies he's started himself, and large companies like Microsoft, Pandora Music and Bark Box.
Eric blends his background as a historian and visual artist to write immersive, atmospheric fiction.
His newest novel, The Hazard Trade, is set in Newport, RI during the revolutionary war, and is Historical Fiction through the lens of a Historical Thriller focused on Espionage.
His debut novel, Legacy of the Bitterroots, is a dual-timeline saga set in Idaho’s wild Bitterroot Mountains. It blends meticulously researched historical fiction, with Native American and Celtic mythology.
His upcoming series, The Hazard Trade, is a Historical Thriller set during the American Revolution and documents one family's transformation from shopkeepers to spies during the British occupation of Newport, RI.
He is also the author of the urban fantasy novella Frost, and the nautical adventure short story, Sally Braid. When not writing, Eric walks for exercise, drives his boat, swims in the ocean, explores ghost towns, collects odd historical facts, and enjoys road trips across the United States.
Empires wage wars with fleets and armies, but occupations are endured in kitchens, counting houses, crowded wharves, and the fearful silence between knocks at the door…
There is a remarkable depth and intelligence to "The Hazard Trade: A Novel of Occupied Newport – 1778" by Eric Picard that sets it apart from much contemporary historical fiction. This is not simply a story about the American Revolution, nor merely a tale of espionage and resistance. It is an extraordinarily immersive examination of what it means to live under military occupation — how ordinary people survive, adapt, resist, compromise, and endure while history reshapes the world around them.
What impressed me immediately was the sheer authenticity of the novel’s atmosphere. Newport does not feel like a stage upon which events occur; it feels lived in. The streets bustle with merchants, sailors, soldiers, servants, dockworkers, and families attempting to maintain routines despite the ever-present pressure of British control. Every detail — the smell of tar and saltwater, the oppressive summer humidity, the groaning timbers of ships at sea, the candlelit parlours of Loyalist gatherings — creates a world so tangible that the reader feels entirely embedded within it. Picard’s command of historical texture is exceptional, yet never self-indulgent. The research serves the story rather than overwhelming it.
At the heart of the novel lies the Hazard family, and they are written with extraordinary emotional complexity. William Hazard is an especially compelling protagonist because he is neither a traditional hero nor an idealised patriot. He is a merchant, a father, and a man forced to navigate impossible moral terrain. His growing involvement in intelligence work feels entirely believable because it emerges not from grand speeches or ideological certainty, but from necessity, fear, loyalty, and survival. The strain of maintaining false appearances while protecting his family creates some of the novel’s most powerful tension.
Mary Hazard is, without question, one of the finest characters in the book. Her intelligence gathering through ordinary social interactions is brilliantly executed and quietly fascinating. Picard understands something many espionage novels overlook: intelligence work often depends less upon dramatic secrecy than on patience, observation, memory, and invisibility. Mary’s ability to synthesise fragments of overheard conversation into meaningful conclusions becomes one of the novel’s most compelling elements. She is intelligent without ever feeling artificially modern, and strong without being romanticised. Her resilience feels entirely authentic to the world she inhabits.
Benjamin and Bridget Hazard are equally memorable, particularly because the novel never loses sight of their youth despite the burdens placed upon them. Benjamin’s gradual exposure to surveillance, military logistics, battlefield communications, and the grim realities of war is deeply affecting. Some of the novel’s most emotionally resonant moments come from his growing recognition that the British soldiers surrounding him are not monsters, but human beings trapped within the same brutal machinery of war. That moral complexity gives the novel tremendous emotional weight.
Bridget’s coded ledgers and analytical mind add another fascinating dimension to the resistance network. I particularly admired the way Picard depicts intelligence gathering as a cumulative process built from fragments rather than sudden revelations. Patterns emerge slowly. Conclusions remain uncertain until verified. Information must be concealed within ordinary life. The operational realism throughout these sections is genuinely impressive.
The espionage narrative itself is exceptionally well-crafted. The constant danger posed by Major Ashworth and Sergeant MacReady creates an atmosphere of sustained tension that runs throughout the entire novel. MacReady, in particular, is a superb antagonist — not because he is cruel or theatrical, but because he is intelligent, methodical, and patient. His surveillance techniques, his understanding of networks, and his ability to recognise behavioural patterns make him genuinely unsettling. The novel understands that the greatest danger in occupied societies often comes not from overt brutality, but from careful observation and incremental control.
The maritime sections involving Harry Sherman and John Quamino are equally extraordinary. The nautical writing throughout the novel is among the finest I have encountered in historical fiction. The technical details of sailing, privateering, navigation, and naval warfare are rendered with astonishing clarity and confidence. Yet what makes these sections truly memorable is the emotional core beneath the technical mastery.
The hurricane sequence is simply breathtaking. Few authors manage to convey the sheer terror and physical violence of the sea with such immediacy. The storm feels overwhelming not merely because of its scale, but because Picard captures the exhaustion, fear, and helplessness of the men enduring it. The scenes aboard Rebecca are visceral, terrifying, and utterly immersive. One can almost feel the deck tilting beneath one’s feet and hear the impossible roar of wind and water consuming the world.
John Quamino is another outstanding character. His intelligence, navigational brilliance, and quiet authority are compelling in themselves, but what elevates the character further is the nuanced way Picard addresses race and slavery within the period. John’s competence gradually forcing respect from prejudiced crewmen feels painfully authentic rather than idealised. The novel never simplifies these tensions, nor does it attempt to impose modern sensibilities upon eighteenth-century realities. Instead, it allows relationships, trust, and shared survival to evolve naturally under pressure.
Another aspect I greatly admired was the novel’s treatment of historical events. The French fleet’s arrival, the British scuttling operations, the collapse of the siege, and the Battle of Rhode Island are all depicted with remarkable clarity and strategic understanding. Picard clearly possesses deep knowledge of eighteenth-century military operations, logistics, and naval warfare. Yet the narrative never becomes dry or overly academic because these events are always experienced through the perspectives of people whose lives are directly shaped by them.
The novel also excels in its pacing. Despite its complexity and scope, the story unfolds with deliberate confidence. Quiet scenes of conversation and observation carry as much tension as storms or battles because the reader understands how much depends upon every word overheard and every choice made. There is a maturity to the storytelling that trusts the reader to appreciate subtlety rather than demanding constant dramatic escalation.
Perhaps most importantly, "The Hazard Trade" succeeds because it understands that war is not merely fought upon battlefields. It is fought in kitchens, shops, taverns, docks, parlours, and private conversations. It reshapes families, friendships, loyalties, and identities long before armies clash. Picard captures that reality with extraordinary sensitivity and intelligence.
"The Hazard Trade: A Novel of Occupied Newport – 1778" is an exceptional achievement — richly atmospheric, intellectually sophisticated, emotionally resonant, and relentlessly immersive. Eric Picard has crafted a work of historical fiction that feels both epic in scope and deeply personal in execution.
This is historical fiction at its finest: humane, intelligent, and unforgettable.
Review by Mary Anne Yarde The Coffee Pot Book Club
Excellent book! Well written, exciting, suspenseful, and full of information. It shows you the Revolutionary War from the viewpoint of colonists living in occupied Newport. The focus is not so much on the war itself, but how it affects these people and their lives. The end will leave you wanting more.... you won't get the entire story in one book. I can't wait to read the next book in the series!