Unveiling Venus by Sophia Bennett

Synopsis (from Goodreads) 

Pages: 400

Publisher: Stripes Publishing 

Released: February 2018 

Mary Adams continues her journey through Victorian society – now as the much-admired Persephone Lavelle. From lavish Venetian balls to luxurious Mayfair townhouses, she gets a glimpse into the most glamorous lives of the age. When she meets a mysterious Harlequin she has the chance to rise to the very top, but to do so she must betray someone close ...

What I Have to Say 

It was good to return to the scandalous world of Persephone Lavelle and the Pre-Raphaelite painters that she attracts. I was really excited by the fact that she ment to Venice because it's one of my favourite cities in the world and definitely a backdrop suitable for Persephone's style. 

The story was a lot more twisted than the last book. I hated one of the characters by the end of it because of how he treated Persephone and Kitty and just everyone. He came into the book and just destroyed everything with his actions. It was exciting, action packs and just perfect as a follow up to the first book, because how can a girl like Persephone seem more scandalous to the society around her? Well here's how. 

I loved the ending. It was the perfect way to end the story and though I think it would be a good place to leave the series, I want there to be another book. I'm not quite ready to leave Persephone's world yet. 

My thanks go to Stripes and Netgalley for providing me with this copy for review. 

The Evacuee Christmas by Katie King

Synopsis (from Goodreads) 

Pages: 320

Publisher: HQ

Released: 19th of October 2017 

Autumn 1939 and London prepares to evacuate its young. In No 5 Jubilee Street, Bermondsey, ten-year-old Connie is determined to show her parents that she’s a brave girl and can look after her twin brother, Jessie. She won’t cry, not while anyone’s watching.

In the crisp Yorkshire Dales, Connie and Jessie are billeted to a rambling vicarage. Kindly but chaotic, Reverend Braithwaite is determined to keep his London charges on the straight and narrow, but the twins soon find adventures of their own. As autumn turns to winter, Connie’s dearest wish is that war will end and they will be home for Christmas. But this Christmas Eve there will be an unexpected arrival…

What I Have to Say 

I must say I expected more Christmas from a book with Christmas in the title. I expected a lot of war time spirit, scraping together a fun and joyous celebration with whatever they can because they don't have much. There was a bit of war time spirit, but there wasn't really that much Christmas. There were preparations for Christmas but Christmas day was a paragraph on the last page and the preparations only started in the last fifteen percent of the book. It left me a bit disappointed, because I was hoping for a cosy holiday read. 

I also didn't get on much with the writing style. The author explained a lot of the character's thoughts in very great detail, often stopping in the middle of a conversation to think things through and work out the best way to respond for paragraph after paragraph. It gave the feeling that the characters were just standing awkwardly staring at each other until they were ready to continue. There was just too much exposition and the characters always seemed to be doing what was best for the situation, when real people aren't like that, because in real life, people don't think things through like that, they just act. 

I liked the characters well enough, but that's really all I can say for this book. I wanted to like it more, but I just didn't get along with it. 

My thanks go to HQ and Netgalley for providing me this copy for review. 

The Red Ribbon Blog Tour - Excerpt

I am honoured to be able to take part in this blog tour, for the beautifully written, touching book. I'm delighted to be able to share a excerpt of this book with you all here today. 

People laugh at fashion. It’s just clothes, they say.

Right. Just clothes. Except, not one of the people I’ve heard mock fashion was naked at the time. They all got dressed in the morning, picking clothes that said, Hey, I’m a successful banker. Or, I’m a busy mother. Or, I’m a tired teacher . . . a decorated soldier . . . a pompous judge . . . a cheeky barmaid . . . a lorry driver, a nurse . . . You could go on for ever. Clothes show who you are, or who you want to be. 

So people might say, Why do you take clothes so seriously, when there are more important things to worry about, like the War?

Oh, I was worried about the War all right. The War got in the way of everything. Out in the real world, outside of here, I’d wasted hours queuing at shops with empty shelves. More hours hiding in the cellar when bombers flew over. I’d put up with endless news updates, and Grandad plotting battle lines on a map pinned to the kitchen wall. I’d known War would come – it was all people talked about for months. We learned about War in history lessons at school. War was something that happened to other people a long way away. 

Then it came to my country. My town. 

It was War that brought me to Birchwood – known, in a harsher language, as Auschwitz-Birkenau. The place where everyone arrives, and nobody leaves. 

 Here people find out that clothes aren’t so trivial after all. Not when you haven’t got any. The first thing They did when we arrived was make us strip. Minutes off the train and we were sorted into male and female. They shoved us into a room and told us to undress. Right there. With everyone watching. Not even underwear allowed. 

Our clothes were folded into piles. Without them we weren’t bankers, teachers, nurses, barmaids or lorry drivers any more. We were scared and humiliated. 

Just clothes. 

I’d stared at my pile of folded clothes. I memorised the soft wool of my jumper. It was my favourite green jumper embroidered with cherries, a birthday present from Grandma. I memorised the neat folds of my trousers and my socks, rolled into a pair. My bra too – my first-ever bra! – that I’d hidden from view along with my knickers. 

Next They took our hair. All our hair. Shaved it off with blunt razors. Gave us limp triangles of cloth as headscarves. Made us pick out shoes from a pile about as high as house. I’d found a pair. Rose obviously hadn’t been so lucky, with her one silk shoe and her one leather brogue. 

They said we’d get our clothes back after a shower. They lied. We got sack dresses with stripes. As Stripeys we ran around like herds of panicked zebras. We weren’t people any more, we were numbers. They could do what they liked to us. 

So don’t tell me clothes don’t matter.

I hope you enjoyed this extract and want to read the rest of the book. For the rest of the blog tour see the banner below: