Book Description:

Boston of 1891 is a city of hope and ambition, where mariners, merchants, and dreamers thrive in the cobblestone streets of America’s most historic city. Within the harbor of Boston’s naval shipyard, Lydia Pallas has become a trusted assistant to an Admiral in the U.S. Navy. Fluent in seven languages, she spends her days translating documents from all over the world.

Lydia’s remarkable language skills bring her to the attention of Alexander Banebridge, a mysterious man on a quest to rid the world of the scourge of opium. Only Lydia has the rare combination of language skills and courage he needs to advance his cause. A man as coolly analytical as he is relentless, Bane never bargained on falling in love with Lydia. As he battles the bittersweet love that grows between them, Bane’s mission will take Lydia away from everything—and everyone—she ever held dear.

My Review:

This – and every other Elizabeth Camden book – is a delight. The characters, historical details and internal struggles are so real, they jump off the page and grip you by the chest.

Lydia is a real character with authentic flaws. If you read Lady of Bolton Hill (which I highly recommend you do), it is a delight to see Bane again and see his character further developed. He might be my hands-down literary favorite hero of all time. This book will make you laugh and cry at the same time. Though there are light moments of fun bantering between Lydia and Bane, there are more intense moments that focus on an issue rarely tackled by inspirational fiction: addiction. Set amongst the romantic and intriguing Boston harbor of the late 1800s, this is a novel that will appeal to readers of romance, suspense and historical fiction.

This is the sort of book I dream of writing, and Camden’s incredibly lyrical writing and deep character development are a true inspiration.

Disclaimer: I was given a copy of this novel in exchange for my honest review. It in no way influenced the outcome or the fact that I plan on reading this novel over and over again. That I blame on the author.