Patricia Abbott is the Deringer-winning author of more than sixty-five stories in print and online publications. She has forthcoming stories in the anthologies: Damn Near Dead II, Bats in the Belfry and Beat to a Pulp, The First Round. Her latest novel Shot in Detroit has been nominated for an Edgar Award. She lives and works in Detroit.
Being what you may call an amateur historian since my teens, oh those many years ago, I am always looking for material, whether non-fiction or fiction, to feed me; to teach me. This series by Richard Abbot has been an eye opener regarding the area of the Near East, Palestine, The Levant; whatever you want to call it. So many groups have either settled there or held sway over it through the centuries and in The Flame Before Us they all meet. Wilios or Troy has finally fallen after a prolonged siege and while it is still up for debate and discussion as to what happened to the invaders after the war; while there were some who returned to their homes across The Aegean Sea, others remained and drifted south to find new lands to call home. That is the crux of book 3 as these mysterious Sea Peoples come into contact with, in some cases violently, with the Kinahny, the Hittite, the Ibriym, the Mitsriy; in short the whole gamut of Old Testament peoples. The author has crafted a tale filled with memorable characters and has given us a glimpse into the possibilities of so many disparate groups coming together in a region that has seen nothing but strife even unto today. From the noble, nose in the air, Egyptians to the settlements of peasants to the nomadic clans, we have a tale of loss, hardship, and hope as cultures collide and times change. Kudos to the author for a most enjoyable series. I look forward to more. 5 stars
“The Flame Before Us” by Richard Abbott is a competently written and fascinating novel set in 1200 BC in what is now Syria, Gaza, Israel and Egypt. The Sea People, a group whose origin is subject to speculation, invade and bring down several cities in the Mediterranean. Having traveled in the area extensively and having studied Ancient Greek at school, I found the book incredibly interesting. Abbott’s background as scholar in the field made the position he takes on the matter compelling and believable. The descriptions, characters and stories are as engaging as his extensive author’s notes, which include invaluable historical background information, maps and an index of the many characters. The book ended up on my reviewing pile by accident but I’m very pleased that it did. Wide in scope and rich in detail and plot, this is an accomplished illustration of said era in the region: complex, informative, enjoyable and skilfully put together.
Reviewed for the Historical Novel Society, Indie Section, which received a paprtback copy of the book fromt he author for review.
I went into The Flame Before Us by Richard Abbott expecting a historical novel about invasion and resistance. What I found instead was something far more intricate and emotionally resonant: a meditation on loyalty, identity, and the quiet choices people make when history begins to turn against them.
Set against the looming collapse of a city and the steady advance of foreign raiders who have no intention of leaving, the novel captures that dreadful, suspended moment before everything changes. The attackers have come before, but this time they mean to settle. That single shift in intention transforms skirmishes into existential threat. Defensive walls, alliances, and inherited power structures begin to feel fragile, almost symbolic rather than protective.
Abbott excels at portraying a land already divided long before the newcomers arrive. The political landscape is not a simple binary of native versus invader. Instead, it is a patchwork of kings, vassal cities, rival factions, and delicate treaties that have been negotiated over generations. The author understands that civilizations rarely fall in a single dramatic stroke. They unravel through miscalculation, divided loyalties, and the strain of promises that can no longer be kept.
What impressed me most was how the novel balances sweeping historical forces with deeply personal stakes. This is not just a chronicle of kings collapsing one by one. It is about individuals forced to reexamine what commitment means when survival is uncertain. Political oaths begin to conflict with family bonds. Traditional alliances strain under the pressure of fear and ambition. The question of whether war is inevitable is not treated as rhetorical. It feels urgent and painfully real.
Abbott’s prose carries a quiet intensity. There is no melodrama, no exaggerated heroics. Instead, tension builds through conversations, strategic decisions, and moments of hesitation. The sense of impending loss hangs over the narrative like smoke before the fire. You can feel that something precious is slipping away, even before the first wall falls.
I also appreciated how morally complex the situation is. The newcomers are a threat, but they are not caricatures. The existing rulers are defenders of tradition, yet they are also constrained by pride, old grudges, and rigid systems that may have already outlived their usefulness. The novel resists easy answers. It asks whether a different path could exist and whether anyone is brave enough to pursue it before violence becomes the only language left.
By the time I finished, the title felt especially fitting. The flame before us is not only the literal fire of destruction. It is the spark of decision, the final moment in which a society can choose unity or fracture, diplomacy or bloodshed. The tragedy lies in how difficult that choice becomes when trust has already eroded.
The Flame Before Us is a thoughtful, character driven historical novel that prioritizes emotional truth and political realism over spectacle. If you enjoy stories about civilizations at the brink, where personal relationships matter as much as battlefield strategy, this book delivers a layered and intelligent reading experience. It left me reflective long after I turned the final page, which is always the mark of a story worth reading.