Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆
Heather Day Gilbert (who’s also a Goodreads friend, and one of my favorite writers) earned high marks from me with her earlier Vikings of the New World duology. Here, she teams up with a new-to-me fellow evangelical Christian writer, Jen Cudmore, to deliver another solid work of historical fiction (the opening volume in a projected series) set in the same era. My trade paperback ARC of this novel was generously given to me by Heather herself; no commitment that my review would be favorable was asked for or given.
Our setting here is partly in Viking-ruled northern Scotland (“Caithness”), but mostly in Scandinavia –specifically, in Tavland, a fictional large island west of Norway. (A map of the island is provided, but it has no scale and doesn’t show it in relation to any other body of land. I picture it as about midway between Norway and Iceland, and perhaps about the size of the latter.) Novels set in fictional countries aren’t unheard of (The Prisoner of Zenda comes to mind). In this case, I’d guess the reason for the device is that the authors wanted to be able to depict a Viking polity, but not to have to be bound to the historical personalities or events of any of the actual ones. The time frame is mainly 998-999 A.D. (with a short prologue set in 989). This was a time when Christianity was spreading in the northern lands, but far from universal. So polygamy and concubinage are still legal, as is slavery (and sexual exploitation of slaves). Warfare and violence are common, life expectancy can be short, and women are under a yoke of patriarchy –though in some ways it’s not as heavy a yoke as it is in the more “civilized” lands of the south in that day.
We have two co-protagonists and primary viewpoint characters here, both young women. Tavland native Ellisif, born into a land-owning family, is about 26 in 998, mother of two little girls, pregnant again, and trapped in an abusive arranged marriage. Somewhat younger at around 20, Inara was born in slavery in the islands north of Scotland, to a now-dead Tavish mother kidnapped into slavery some years earlier. Tall and strong, tough-minded and blessed with some sword skills (long story!), we meet her on the Scottish mainland hiding out from her former master. (We learn the backstory behind that only gradually.) Her goal is to become a warrior. (Although relatively rare, shield-maidens weren’t unknown in Viking society, and could be accepted as such on their merits.) Circumstances are about to bring these ladies’ life-paths together. Their viewpoints are supplemented by those of two Tavish male characters, both single: young jarl (a Viking noble title, cognate with the English “earl”) Dagar, who as a teen was engaged to Ellisif, before her parents died in a accident and her oldest brother got the bright idea of selling her like a cow or a mare to her present husband, and ship-builder and occasional warrior Hakon.
As you’ve no doubt already surmised, yes, this novel does have a romantic component –and, indeed, two romances for the price of one. :-) But it offers more than that, as serious writers know that fiction must if it depicts romantic love as a realistic (and good!) part of the totality of human life; and our two authors here are definitely serious writers. We’re looking here at family life, social relationships, implicit questions of social justice and the relationship of Christian faith to conduct; and we’re also getting a crash course (which sadly is as relevant in 2022 as it was in 998!) in the grim realities of spousal abuse and what is or isn’t a helpful way of dealing with it. (The “Word from the Authors” at the end is constructive in that regard.) Questions of gender roles, and the relationship of career goals vs. family life, are also front-and-center here, and again very relevant.
One thing that quality historical fiction such as this tends to show is that human nature and needs haven’t really changed over the centuries. (In opposition to that idea, it’s often asserted by modern would-be critics, who know little of history, that romantic love was only invented in the 1700s, and was a concept totally unknown and unimaginable before that. Plenty of primary-source evidence exists to belie that claim; it was not only a known concept, but felt by lots of people, then as now. It just wasn’t always as readily taken into account by people making the decisions about marriages then as now –and, as Ellisif and Dagar would tell us, the ones getting married weren’t always the ones making the decision.) And though this is a “romance,” it’s no bodice-ripper.
The quality of the writing here is very good, and the collaboration is seamless; I’ve read and liked several of Heather’s books, but I couldn’t tell any stylistic difference between the various parts of this book to suggest different authorship. Past-tense, third-person narration is used throughout, however, rather than Heather’s characteristic present-tense first person. (I like the one as well as the other, so that was no problem for me.) A textured picture of Viking daily life is presented, clearly based on solid research; but the research isn’t intrusive. Like Norah Lofts, our authors here avoid archaic-sounding diction in their dialogue; there are touches that suggest the setting, but we basically understand that the characters’ Old Norse is translated for us into conventional modern English with an “equivalent effect” (which explains the single use here of “okay” in conversation). References to Christian faith are natural in the circumstances of the story, and not “preachy.” Our Christian characters are Catholics (one minor character is an abbot), but denominational distinctives aren’t much in evidence. (I’d have liked more reference to the development of Inara’s faith, which is actually treated very sketchily.) Directly-described violent action scenes only occur in three places, and aren’t very graphic, but Inara shows her mettle enough to earn her “action heroine” status from me.
As a concluding note, we use “Viking” today as a general term for the ancient and early medieval Nordic inhabitants of Scandinavia, men and women, old and young. In the book, though, it’s used as it was then, as a term for a warrior. (It comes from the verbal form, “to go a-viking,” that is, trading/raiding, as inclination or circumstances dictated, in the lands to the south.) With that understanding, the title has a special meaning that will become apparent by the end of the book. :-)
Authors: Heather Day Gilbert and Jen Cudmore.
Publisher: WoodHaven Press; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.



Like “Franklin W. Dixon” and “Carolyn Keene,” “A. W. Hart” is the house pen name assigned by the publisher to all the various authors of individual books in the series of which this novel is the seventh installment. In this case, though, A. W. is actually my Goodreads friend Charles Gramlich (that’s no secret; he’s credited in the “About the Author” note at the book’s end). Although I’d read and liked a couple of his short e-stories previously, I’d never tried any of his long fiction. So, when I saw this novel mentioned in one of his blog posts last year, I was intrigued enough to buy a copy. (Barb and I read it together, since she’s an avid Western fan, and I knew this would be right up her alley.)
That’s what happened here, about a month ago,with Quinn wanting to move in the direction of engagement and marriage and Nadia not willing to, leading to a messy breakup that left him very hurt and her “feeling like [vulgarism deleted].” :-( On top of that stress, when this book opens, she’s in rural Michigan on a job (of the kind that she doesn’t advertise). That quickly results, though through no fault of her own, in a traumatic event which has her on the point of meltdown. But before long, she’s in for a moral and emotional ordeal which will make her present distresses look relatively mild.
Even with her off-the-books side income, Nadia can’t afford to pay more than a tiny staff at her guest lodge; but out of kindness, she’s given a job as assistant housekeeper to a 17-year-old girl from the nearby small town of White Rock, Sammi Ernst. Sammi’s foul-mouthed, barely literate, and has a chip on her shoulder; the latter isn’t surprising, given her life situation. She’s the out-of-wedlock daughter of Janie Ernst. Both women are widely looked down on in the community –Janie because she’s a drunken, mean-tempered, self-centered deadbeat, and Sammi mainly because she has Janie for an (abusive) mother. Also a single mom herself, Sammi’s not promiscuous like Janie (she had a single affair, with a visiting rich college kid who wasn’t interested in marriage or fatherhood, and left her to bear his unacknowledged daughter alone); and also unlike her own mom, she genuinely loves baby Destiny, and wants to work to support her, rather than making a dead-end career out of welfare dependency as Janie has.
My friend Liane Zane kindly gifted me with a paperback copy of this second of her Elioud Legacy novels, as she did with the first one (The Harlequin & The Drangùe), in exchange for an honest review. Having liked the first book, I was glad to accept; and I wasn’t disappointed with the sequel!
Warning: while this review contains no spoilers for the book I’m reviewing, it inevitably involves some spoilers for the book to which it’s a sequel, Anna Dressed in Blood. (I didn’t review that one here; see below). The situation in this book directly grows out of the events of the first one; and though the author provides some brief references to those in the opening chapters here, if you have not read the series opener, you would get only the very bare basics of what happened there. IMO, she expected that her readers will read the books in order, and I would strongly recommend doing so. Your whole understanding of the premise here, your engagement with the story, and your understanding of who most of the major characters are as people and your emotional connection to them will be seriously impaired if you don’t!

Lance Charnes and I are Goodreads friends, and I’ve read and liked two of his earlier novels; so he offered me a free review copy of this newly-published book. (There wasn’t any guarantee that I’d also like this one, but he does know my tastes pretty well.) The opener for a projected new series, this tale spins off from the author’s DeWitt Agency Files, and Carson (no first name!), the protagonist here, is an important character in the opener for the first series, The Collection. (This review avoids spoilers for Zrada, but might have some for the former novel.)