When I last read Raymond Benson, he was still chronicling the adventures of the 1990s and early 2000s Bond, which doesn’t seem like so long ago until I start to think about what year this is. So, when I started reading The Secrets on Chicory Lane, I expected some of those 007 theatrics – some extended action sequences, parachutes, dodging bullets, and beautiful ladies.
The Secrets on Chicory Lane is a bit of a different story – and Benson’s voice was adept at delivering this narrative, in spite of my bombastic expectations. There are moments of tension and mysteries swirling in the story aplenty, but the focus of this narrative is more on the memories of a writer than exploding guns.
This is a story where the main character, Shelby, must come to terms with some demons in her life, and the book is not without its share of twists and heartbreaking turns.
Shelby is looking back over her life, turning over mysteries, and tired of writing yet another entry in successful book series. The story alternates between her present-day life and her memories of life in the 1960s and on through the decades. Shelby ruminates on a troubled romance and what implications her youth still have for her adult life.
There is, it should be noted, a brief reference to attending a James Bond double-feature, which made me smile, but this book is Raymond Benson planting his feet in a new direction, which was welcome for this reader. Secrets on Chicory Lane gave me the opportunity to appreciate a writer I thought I knew in a fresh light.