Turnbull House
by Jess
Faraday
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
London
1891. Former criminal Ira Adler has built a respectable, if dull, life for
himself as a confidential secretary. He even sits on the board of a youth
shelter. When the shelter’s landlord threatens to sell the building out from
under them, Ira turns to his ex-lover, crime lord Cain Goddard, for a loan. But
the loan comes with strings, and before he knows it, Ira is tangled up in them
and tumbling back into the life of crime he worked so hard to escape. Two old
flames come back into Ira’s life, along with a new young man who reminds Ira of
his former self. Will Ira hold fast to his principles, or will he succumb to
the temptations of easy riches and lost pleasures?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt
November of 1891 was the autumn of my discontent.
Melodramatic, yes. But if one is to understand the chain of foolish and
self-destructive actions that I undertook over the course of that month, one
must first understand the depths of that discontent, as well as its roots.
The past five years had taken me from furtive back-alley
gropes in the shadows of Whitechapel to a life of luxurious indolence amid the
lace curtains and aspidistras of York Street, then much of the way back down
again. I’d spent a pleasant two years being spoilt by Cain Goddard, London’s
best-educated and possibly best-dressed crime lord. But ultimately, even a
gilded cage begins to press in on a person—especially when one’s nascent
conscience decides, in spite of one’s fondest wishes, to expand. How fortunate
I was that, in his generosity—and in an effort to add realism to his claim that
I was his live-in confidential secretary—Goddard had also taught me a trade.
And that was where I found myself that November: in a flat
on Aldersgate Street, which, though squalid, was mine—paid for by the sweat of
my brow or, more precisely, by the ink on my fingers—with no obligation to any
man. The single room was drafty in winter, sweltering in the summer, and the
landlord thought indoor plumbing was an idea best left to the fevered
imagination of that Gallic popinjay, Verne. Still, it was preferable to
sleeping on my feet, leaning against a rope with twenty other men in some
Dorset Street doss house. And I had no interest in living off the generosity of
some rich man until he grew bored with me. Until my situation changed, my
present lodgings were the only palatable option.
And until Wilde paid me the outrageous sum he owed, my
situation would not be changing any time soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Jess
Faraday is the author of the Ira Adler mysteries and the standalone steampunk
thriller The Left Hand of Justice. She also moonlights as the mystery editor
for Elm Books.
http://www.jessfaraday.com
Twitter:
@jessfaraday
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/jess.faraday
Buy
link: http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com/9781602829879.html
My Review:
This is a really interesting look at how a life a crime can have an affect on you for the rest of your life. You can never really escape, or pay back your loans. I liked when the story took place and it was interesting to read about London and how Cain made a living as a crime lord in the 1890's. I loved all the street references and I would have loved a map! The author did a great job of keeping the characters conversations and the plot appropriate for the time. There is definitely a question of whether someone is really happy, or they just think they are happy. It was interesting to see how the author wove happiness into the characters. I am giving this book a 4/5. I was given a copy to review, however all opinions are my own.
Jess will be awarding a two-book set (paperback) of Turnbull House and its predecessor, The Affair of the Porcelain Dog to a randomly drawn commenter between this tour and the NBtM Book Tour, here.
Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:
Sounds like a great book. I will be putting it on my wishlist.
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