I have to admit that it took me fully half of The Burning Girls before I stopped making comparisons to Phil Rickman's Merrily Watkins mystery series which is set in Herefordshire near the Welsh border and also features a single mother/Anglican priest and her teenage daughter. Did the similarities detract from my enjoyment of C.J. Tudor's suspenseful novel? Not one bit, although I do suggest that if you enjoy The Burning Girls, you might want to give Rickman's series a try.
I was swiftly drawn into this story because of two voices: Jack's and her daughter Flo's. It doesn't take readers long to discover that there's a lot more to Jack than meets the eye, and a good deal of the suspense of the novel hinges on just what's going on with this unconventional vicar who stands up to anyone who tries to intimidate her. The relationship between Jack and Flo is close and realistic, with just the right amount of teen angst. (In other words, you won't be in any danger of rolling your eyes and having them get stuck in the back of your head.) It's Flo's ability to roam around the village with her old camera that brings mother and daughter in touch with several of the villagers.
The setting is marvelously atmospheric, with "trees... creeping up when no one is looking." If I'd been the one to drive to Chapel Cross, I think I would've taken one look and driven right on through without stopping. Jack is made of sterner stuff, and that made for a wonderful tale.
The Burning Girls took hold of me like a creeping vine. You don't notice it's been growing until its tendrils have taken hold of your arms and legs and you can't move. I was so engrossed that I forgot all about trying to deduce the who's, the why's, and the how's. I simply let those tendrils wrap around me tighter so I could immerse myself in the atmosphere and in the story. What a fun ride-- and what a fun introduction to an author I'd never read before!
(Review copy courtesy of the publisher and Net Galley)
I was swiftly drawn into this story because of two voices: Jack's and her daughter Flo's. It doesn't take readers long to discover that there's a lot more to Jack than meets the eye, and a good deal of the suspense of the novel hinges on just what's going on with this unconventional vicar who stands up to anyone who tries to intimidate her. The relationship between Jack and Flo is close and realistic, with just the right amount of teen angst. (In other words, you won't be in any danger of rolling your eyes and having them get stuck in the back of your head.) It's Flo's ability to roam around the village with her old camera that brings mother and daughter in touch with several of the villagers.
The setting is marvelously atmospheric, with "trees... creeping up when no one is looking." If I'd been the one to drive to Chapel Cross, I think I would've taken one look and driven right on through without stopping. Jack is made of sterner stuff, and that made for a wonderful tale.
The Burning Girls took hold of me like a creeping vine. You don't notice it's been growing until its tendrils have taken hold of your arms and legs and you can't move. I was so engrossed that I forgot all about trying to deduce the who's, the why's, and the how's. I simply let those tendrils wrap around me tighter so I could immerse myself in the atmosphere and in the story. What a fun ride-- and what a fun introduction to an author I'd never read before!
(Review copy courtesy of the publisher and Net Galley)
