'Sweet Oblivion' - Rhiana Ramsey

Scandinavian novelists have, without a doubt, dominated the crime genre in recent years. The UK has lapped them up with an eager thirst for the macabre, with Jo Nesbo in particular topping the bestseller list with every release, his Harry Hole series selling over 20 million copies worldwide. It is certainly time for UK novelists to step up and claim the genre for themselves (Peter James can't do it alone!).

Enter Rhiana Ramsey, a serving police detective who has just published her debut novel, Sweet Oblivion. Not only is the author from the UK, currently residing in West Sussex, but she is also a talented female, taking on a typically male genre, and she does it well.

Louise Jackson is a successful, newly promoted editor-in-chief of a B2B magazine in London. When the magazine that she works for starts to have financial problems, her life starts to spiral out of control, and she begins to question her own sanity. At the same time, a series of harrowing murders are being committed, where the victims are left tied up naked and mutilated, all male and all with a passion for bondage. Though the main character is Louise, the detective team investigating the murders evidently play a crucial role, and DC Elizabeth Lane arguably takes the spotlight. Throughout the narrative, there are interruptions of flashbacks of a young child who is clearly being abused, and we're left to figure out who this could be and it's relevance to the main story.

It's worth bearing in mind whilst reading Sweet Oblivion that this is a debut novel, and there are a few areas that need work - the occasional cliched phrase or stereotypical character, and the storyline is unfortunately quite predictable (and whatever happened to Steve?). I had hoped for a twist towards the end of the novel, and was left disappointed. This would normally put me off a book, but the storyline, despite it's predictability, is actually really enticing. It kept me hooked for hours, perhaps not with suspense, but with genuine intrigue, and any fan of crime novels will agree when I say that the more gruesome the death, the better - and these deaths are nauseatingly so.

I'm also usually opposed to crime novels having too many romantic interruptions, and Ramsey was almost in danger of this, but thankfully her character Elizabeth is likeable as well as relatable and you find yourself wanting her to have a romantic encounter (though I would perhaps suggest leaving out the hot chocolate in future). The main character Louise is certainly not as relatable, nor likeable, which I'm assuming is intentional - her actions are irrational, which is to be expected, and most of the time the chapters featuring her were simply irritating.

This is definitely a debut novel worth getting stuck in to, especially during the winter months where many people crave a dark, sinister read, and I definitely look forward to reading her a second novel, supposedly in the pipeline as I write this review. Sweet Oblivion is simply the first taster of what I'm sure will be a series of enticing novels.

'The Taxidermist's Daughter' - Kate Mosse

With the days getting colder and the darkness encroaching earlier, there are two genres that dominate; crime and horror. Halloween is less than a week away and I thought it was time to start giving myself the creeps in a way that only a good novael can. Out came Kate Mosse's The Taxidermist's Daughter. I am a little ashamed to admit that I have never read a Kate Mosse novel before, not only because I have heard nothing but good reviews about her writing, but also because she is from Chichester, a regular haunt of mine (if you'll excuse the pun). She was born and continues to live in the historical city, known for its Roman heritage, and her new novel, The Taxidermist's Daughter, takes place as well as in the nearby village of Fishbourne.

The plot is eery from the start, when the daughter of an alcoholic taxidermist follows her father to the churchyard late at night where he meets with other men for a reason known only to them. When a woman's body is found close to her house, Connie Gifford worries that her father has a part to play in it, especially when he disappears. Harry Woolston is also concerned when his father fails to come home, and when he coincidentally meets Connie, the two instantly feel a connection and when they find out that their fathers knew each other, they join together to find out exactly what has happened to them and who is sending mysterious letters.

Mosse keeps her readers constantly in the dark, dangling them as Connie conveniently had an accident as a child and has no memory of her former life. She knows that it is relevant to the mysterious events around her, and as her memories starts to return, the story all starts to come together. The final pieces of the puzzle begin to become obvious by this point, but this is towards the end of the book not long before it is revealed to you by Mosse anyway; and though it might be easy to guess the man involved as well as the person behind the murders, you could not be prepared for how brutal the murders actually are. You're left asking yourself if it is justice or revenge gone too far.

The novel really enters into the deep macabre, but Mosse uses romance to break this up. I personally never appreciate a cliched relationship in a book, and love at first sight would certainly fall into this category, but Connie and Harry's relationship seems necessary. I also tend to prefer an unhappy end to a crime/horror novel (what I call a 'Stephen King' ending), but this story has to finish with a little bit of hope for its characters, and is also not entirely without devastation so I can let that one slide.

This is a great novel to start the season with, and is just one of many horror novels to be reviewed on the blog in the upcoming months.

'And the Mountains Echoed' - Khaled Hosseini

Kabul can appear a desolate place. The largest city in Afghanistan, the media can at times depict it as simply a warzone, damaged by the Taliban and crippled by insurgents. However, Kabul is rich with history and culture that, despite the literal and metaphorical holes in it, is still largely prominent and remains to be important to its inhabitants. I reviewed Deborah Rodriguez's The Little Coffee Shop of Kabul in the past, admiring it for the way it brings Kabul to life and makes it a little more relatable; Khaled Hosseini has a similar gift. Born in the city itself, Hosseini now lives in California but he set up the Khaled Hosseini Foundation to provide humanitarian assistance to Afghanistan, clearly still feeling a connection to his birthplace through this and through his books.

Hosseini first won me over with The Kite Runner, an emotional story about two young boys in Afghanistan, one of whom is a Hazara which is considered by some to be an inferior race, and the other a wealthy Pashtun boy. The two best friends are confronted with the divide between them, and the Pashtun boy feels he has to choose between his father's affection or protecting his friend from bullies. The story follows the guilt that takes decades to put right. I continued to love Hosseini with his next novel A Thousand Splendid Sons, but then had to wait six years before his third book, And the Mountains Echoed,  which appeared on the shelves in 2013. Finally, two years later, I settled down to read it, with high expectations that I had already been warned might not be fulfilled.

The way Hosseini follows a story through a character's lifetime is the same technique he adopts for in And the Mountains Echoed. This book also causes heartbreak before the story has barely begun. Abdullah and his little sister Pari share an extremely close bond. They both live with their father and step-mother in a mud hut in Shadbagh until the father feels he has no choice but to sell his daughter to a wealthy family so that they all might live. Hosseini uses different voices from there to tell the story of how the separation affected both of them as well as chronicling Kabul's tragic recent history and its effect on both their lives. 

As usual, Hosseini has a way of reminding you when reading his books what real problems are, particularly the choice between life or death and how common this choice is in a country like Afghanistan. It certainly puts things into perspective. And the Mountains Echoed is also beautifully written, almost poetic, emphasising the strength and the lasting effect of memories, no matter how small they are. He tends to avoid fairytales in his books, perhaps to make them more realistic,  but he still leaves you satisfied if not a little sad.

Unfortunately, the forewarning I had been given was right; it did not live up to his previous works. It lacked the same intensity, the same magnetism. It started similar to his others, but I felt as though it lost its way, and by the time I had reached the halfway point it felt as though Hosseini had missed the opportunity to make it right. The emotion that was first so prevalent had dissipated and the last few pages that would usually have made me teary-eyed actually left me feeling a little disappointed. I suppose it is Khaled Hosseini's realism and fairytale aversion, but for me, it was just an anti-climax. I will still read his next novel, if there is one, if only to give Hosseini another chance to draw me back in to life in Kabul.

'The Girl in the Spider's Web' - David Lagercrantz

Another book with a story behind it, The Girl in the Spider's Web by David Lagercrantz is shrouded in controversy. It is a continuation of the hugely popular Millennium trilogy by Stieg Larrson, a man who was not unfamiliar with controversy himself. Born in Västerbotten, Sweden, he was raised by his grandparents. His writing career is said to have started when he was given a typewriter for his twelfth birthday, and after his grandfather was imprisoned in a work camp for his anti-fascism, Stieg became determined to fight against censorship and inequalities, becoming one of the founders of Expo, an anti-fascism magazine. His life and that of his long-term partner Eva Gabrielsson was constantly threatened by right-wing violence, and they were forced to take extreme measures to keep themselves safe,  never being seen together outside the house. Despite these measures, he died suddenly at the age of 50 from natural causes, though there continue to be conspiracy theories about murder surrounding his death.

Fortunately for his now innumerable fans, Larrson had already sent all three books of the Millennium series to the publisher; in fact, he finished two of them and had started the third before even contacting a publisher. Unfortunately for him, he died before any of them were released and he never got to see the global success of his novels and the hype that they created. All three were turned into Swedish films, and the first of the book trilogy, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2005), has also been turned into a Hollywood film. Larsson's The Girl who Played with Fire (2006) was released in the UK in 2009 and shot straight to number one in the hardback chart, the first translated novel to do so at the time. The third and final book, The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest (2007), had a similar reception, and the trilogy has won numerous awards.

It is no surprise that another author would want to continue on this success. David Lagercrantz, a Swedish journalist and author, is known predominantly for his biographies. A crime writer until 1993, he published his first book in 1997, a biography on Swedish adventurer Göran Kropp. In 2000, he followed this with a biography on Håkan Lans, before turning his attentions to fiction with a novel about British mathematician Alan Turing entitled Fall of Man in Wilmslow. Perhaps his most popular book before his most recent is I am Zlatan Ibrahimovic, an autobiography of the footballer which Lagercrantz was the ghostwriter of. 

The Girl in the Spider's Web, released this year, is his first of its kind. In my opinion, it should be taken as a separate book, and therefore a separate story, entirely. I have read many a synopsis of the novel before engaging in it, reading along the lines of 'crime fighting duo reunited', but Mikael and Lisbeth are no Batman and Robin - far from it! The Millennium trilogy had me hooked from the start, and I devoted every spare second I had to reading it. The story was admirably intelligent and complex, and reading the last was overwhelmingly disappointing in that you knew there would never be another. At the time, there were rumours of half-finished manuscripts that Gabrielsson would complete, but nothing ever came from them. Lagercrantz has made the fourth book a reality, but he had a lot to live up to. 

The fourth book in the series sees advanced computer hacker Lisbeth Salander and investigative journalist Mikael Blomkvist embroiled in the same murder mystery. Blomkvist is in a career rut, bored of the breaking news stories that he used to thrive on. Out of the blue, he is contacted by Frans Balder, a renowned scientist making advanced developments in Artificial Intelligence. Coincidentally, Balder had also been in touch with Salander to find out how his previous work had been stolen and sold on to a video game developer. He is informed by Säpo, the Swedish security police, that his life is in danger, and in the hope of protecting his autistic son, Balder wants to tell his story to Blomkvist so that it will be published in Millennium magazine. However, a tragedy occurs that leaves his savant son August's life in danger, along with Blomkvists's and Salander's, who is also attempting to track down a gang of hackers calling themselves the Spiders whom she believes to have connections to her monstrous late father and she wants her revenge.

Lagercrantz has actually surpassed my expectations with this novel. I held Stieg Larrson in such high regard that I didn't believe anyone could take over from him, but this latest addition to the series is a pleasant surprise, and I was just as addicted to this novel as the first three. I know I said that I would treat this is as a separate novel entirely, but I couldn't help but make comparisons throughout; there were not many that I noticed where Lagercrantz failed to follow Larrson's style and talent. He gives things away a little earlier than Larrson perhaps would have, and he clearly admires the characters Larrson created; both Blomkvist and Salander both seem to have less flaws and make less mistakes, but they are still essentially the same characters with just as much depth. 

The actual plot of The Girl in the Spider's Web also follows the same complexity as its prequels. It is just as intricate in detail, with every ounce of intelligence to match. I really wanted to hate this novel, out of respect for Larrson's partner who is rumoured to be against the continuation, but Lagercrantz has left no room for that. Rather than seeing the book as a chance to make money off a successful series, I see it as a dedication to Stieg Larrson and the fans he left behind but never knew. There is no doubt in my mind that this is not the last of the Millennium series, and I can't help but smile at that.

'The Land Where Lemons Grow' - Helena Attlee

When I first saw Helena Attlee's The Land Where Lemons Grow lying on a table in a book shop it was the middle of summer and I fell in love simply with the cover. On reading the blurb and realising it was about Italy I only fell further, having been to Rome last year and remembering well how captivating Italy can be. However, the book ended up sitting in the middle of a pile of unread books, where it may have spent years being considered as a 'reference' book, until I happened to finish a book on a surprisingly sunny day, after what seemed like weeks of rain. This book just seemed to stand out; the perfect conditions, you could say, just as it takes the perfect conditions to grow lemons, I found out.

I am fully aware that I might have to work hard to sell this book to you. It is, after all, non-fiction; the first non-fiction book I have written a review about so far. I had to convince myself, when reading the first page, to continue. However, by page five I had laughed out loud at a quip about a Seville orange, and realised Helena Attlee already had me hooked. Her passion for the citrus industry is strikingly obvious and incredibly addictive to read. It came as no surprise when I found out that Attlee specialises in writing about the cultural history of Italian gardens, contributing to numerous magazines. She has managed to capture the various aspects of the citrus industry (who knew there were so many?) making lemons seem more like works of art than simply fruit to be eaten, She delves into the history of the citrus fruits grown in the many diverse regions of Italy; the science behind the countless varieties and hybrids, including the affect just a few degrees in temperature can have; the art and literature produced by those in admiration of the fruits; and the brutal business side behind the beauty. Attlee's personal anecdotes are what really bring the book together, turning what could have been a dull book of facts into a vivid story of travel and experiences. 

Her travels through Italy begin when Attlee first experiences the land where lemons grow, travelling on a sleeper train through the Italian Riviera thirty-five years ago: 

"...there were lemons growing beside the station platform, their dark leaves and bright fruit set against a backdrop of nothing but sea. I never forgot those trees..." She goes on to introduce the Medici's citrus collection in Florence, once the finest in Europe, where she begins her search for casts of various citrus fruit of all shapes and sizes before travelling to the Amalfi Coast. Attlee continues from here to Sicily, starting in Palermo where she describes how the citrus industry grew here and the mafia's violent influence on this expanding market. In Catania in Sicily she explores the growth of blood oranges, a fruit proven to prevent obesity and improve health, the best of which can only be grown at the base of Mount Etna, making it more expensive than other more widely available 'blond' oranges.

Moving away from Sicily to a more regulated industry where the mafia have little influence, Attlee introduces chinotti, which is grown in Liguria. She defends the fruit from being called the "runt of the citrus litter", and describes her conversion to candied chinotti, after tasting some fresh from the factory. She moves further up the country to Northern Italy, starting in Lake Garda which used to be known for its multitude of lemon houses before disease, floods, and the First World War left the Garda citrus industry in tatters. From here, she travels west to Ivrea, where oranges are thrown rather than grown. It is home to the Battle of the Oranges, a festival which marks the end of the carnival season, in which oranges are pelted as weapons in a lighthearted war on the street. In direct contrast, Attlee goes on the deep south of the country where the most valuable citrus fruit is grown. In Calabria, a place inflicted with natural disaster and rough terrain, the bergamot is produced and its essential oils extracted to be used by the perfume industry, a process that has been taking place for decades. The same location is home to the Diamante citron, a citrus fruit that in its most perfect form becomes not only expensive but also plays a part in religion, as Jews use it during the celebration of Sukkoth.

There are not nearly enough adjectives in the English dictionary to describe how much I love Helena Attlee's journey of Italy through citrus fruit. Before reading the book, my vision of Italy had been that of a tourist; busy with foreigners, queues for the sites, beggars on the streets and the air so hot it engulfed you. Attlee has opened my eyes to a more authentic Italy, her own unique experience after working there for nearly thirty years, away from stereotypes and tourism. It is bursting full of adjectives, so much so you can almost smell the lemon groves she writes so passionately about. There is no denying Atlee has a gift for story telling; if she wrote a book about pencils, I'd be inclined to read it. There is even a recipe for homemade limoncello using more alcohol than tourists would be accustomed to. Enjoy!

'The Good Girl' - Fiona Neill

The Good Girl started off with a lot of promise before I even turned to the first page: a tantalising, almost sinister, blurb; a title that suggests intriguing irony; and the author being Fiona Neill. A writer with many achievements to be proud of, Neill started her career in journalism, spending her third year of university in Latin America before residing in Central America for six years. On returning to the UK, she began working for Marie Claire, followed by The Times Magazine as an editorial assistant. Inspired by her own weekly column in The Times, Neill wrote her first novel in 2007, The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy. Only two years later she had released her second, Friends, Lovers and Other Indiscretions, followed by What the Nanny Saw in 2012. With all this experience, both in life and in writing, as well as glowing reviews, I was expecting a masterpiece. Enter disappointment.

***SPOILERS***Aisla and Harry decide to move their family from the busy streets of London to the more quiet Norfolk.Their daughter Romy has always been their pride and joy, never disappointing them and always achieving high grades. However, the arrival of new neighbours Wolf and Loveday seems to be the reason Romy stops being 'the good girl' and becomes more of a mystery to her parents. This is nowhere near as captivating as it sounds. Romy falls for one of the neighbours's sons, Jay, who struggles with an addiction to porn and she hopes to be the one to change this, making a pornographic video with him that goes viral. She herself is struggling with the real reason her parents moved away from London, after overhearing a conversation implying that her father, who she has always been closest to, had an affair. Neill alternates the chapters between Romy's point of view and Ailsa's, who it turns out is hiding secrets of her own, including who her son, Luke's, real father is.

Neill wants to you be enticed by the secrets that the family are keeping, to make you want to read on, but the secrets are dull and predictable, and most of them clichéd. I was expecting a  stronger storyline, with a more explosive ending, but the climax lasted only a few pages and seemed more like a desperate attempt to save the novel. There were simply too many ideas squeezed into one book, with waffling taking up far too much space and not enough time given to character development. Romy seems to have inherited her father's intelligence and love of neuroscience, and small explanations are slotted in throughout the book on what causes addiction and can help to cure it, along with various other scientific explanations that can seem out of place and unnecessary. Her mother being a teacher and her father a professor of neuroscience are not enough to provide a reason for this, and Ailsa's pedantic corrections of grammar annoy even a prescriptivist such as myself.  On the other side of the scale is Wolf and Loveday, both well-travelled and interested in sexual healing, with a completely different, more relaxed parental style to Harry and Ailsa. This seems a little typical and obvious from the start that the two couples will clash over their children, as well as being incredibly dull.

I could be being a little harsh on Fiona Neill. The book did not meet expectations - no dark revelations and gasps of shock - but Neill does tackle a modern problem of the powers of the internet; how a video made in the privacy of your own home can be seen on the other side of the world with just a few clicks of a button. It is an interesting subject to tackle, and a real shame Neill could not pull it off. The Daily Mail called it a "coming-of-age tale", which would put it alongside The Perks of being a Wallflower, an insult to a truly great piece of literature and a flippant use of a phrase. Perhaps a more appropriate description would have been a 'cautionary tale', for teenagers who are experiencing technology and the internet being everywhere and easily accessible at a young age. The novel might not have impressed, but it has a good message and is not a bad read for those looking for something light to pass the time.

Recipe Books' Rejuvenation

It's obvious to any collector such as myself - recipe books have changed, and you would be in denial if you didn't think it was for the better. Traditional recipe books in England were undoubtedly for women looking after their families. They were basic, with block paragraphs of traditional English meals and traditional methods. Pictures were rare, if present at all, and the font size suitable only for those with a magnifying glass.The past couple of years in particular, however, have seen  a huge change in the way recipe books appear. They have become vibrant and colourful, with images playing a huge part in their popularity. People no longer simply pick up a recipe book to use it; they pick it up simply to read it. 

Even the great Mary Berry has modernised her books to be just as much about how it looks as about the recipes, with her latest Mary Berry's Absolute Favourites containing beautiful imagery to accompany her delicious recipes. The BBC television series The Great British Bake-Off, which Berry is a judge on alongside Paul Hollywood, has sparked numerous recipe books designed to make baking more fun and adventurous. Runner-up contestant Ruby Tandoh's Crumb is my ultimate favourite from the selection. She talks about the traditional aspects of baking, giving her own unique advice on the methods and techniques, injecting into the book her own vitality and passion for baking. Tandoh also rejuvenates some traditional recipes with current trends, such as the use of semolina in baking. Her delicious lemon semolina cake recipe is a serious rival to Mary Berry's lime polenta cake.

Christine Taylor's Choccywoccydoodah: Chocolate, Cake & Curses is another modern recipe book,  decorated elaborately with Brightonian fairytales and stories in between recipes. It includes an introduction of how the shop, Choccywoccydoodah, and later the cafe were founded and expanded. They are not the only shop to release a recipe book, though. Hotel Chocolat brought out Hotel Chocolat: A New Way of Cooking with Chocolate, which even includes a recipe of chocolate with salmon; The Hummingbird Bakery regularly release books with recipes of their famous products; and restaurants Wagamama and Yo! Sushi have also released books featuring recipes of the dishes they serve. This is the start of an era when recipe books are becoming pieces of literature as well as cooking guides.

 Instagram and the hashtag #instafood or #instaporn probably has a lot to do with this change, with users constantly looking at new and refreshing ways to make pictures of food look attractive for more likes. One person in particular is Ella Woodward, author of the recipe book Deliciously Ella and the blog of the same name. Woodward uses instagram to promote her healthy lifestyle as well as her blog posts. The images accompanying her recipes are bright and beautiful, making healthy eating seem just as tempting as a big slice of cake. Her beautiful instagram shots carry on through to her recipe book, which also talks about how a diagnosis of Postural Tachycardia Syndrome led her to start being more concerned about what she ate. Her journey is inspirational, and to help others enjoy the same lifestyle she has taken on, she provides a guide on getting started, with all her kitchen and therefore recipe essentials. Throughout the book, she discusses the benefits of certain ingredients, justifying their use and how they are great alternatives to salty or sugary products. This is a book even my chocolate-obsessed self is loving.

Ella Woodward is just one of a few who have started a trend in healthy eating and therefore healthy cooking. Following the release of her book in January, we have also seen the release of Get the Glow by Madeleine Shaw, who also happens to be a friend of Woodward, and Eat. Nourish. Glow. by Amelia Freer. More interestingly, however, we have seen Italian food become more fresh and nourishing in Gino D'Acampo's Veg Italia. There's still cream, pasta and pizza dough, but D'Acampo has banished meat from the traditional Italian recipes; lasagne made with aubergines, cannelloni filled with courgettes and ricotta, meatballs minus the meat made with lentils and mushrooms, a sweet potato mash with garlic butter and mascarpone. It is refreshing to see the nation's favourite Italian dishes transformed and vegetables given a new lease of life.

Italian cuisine is only the start of foreign cuisine's growing popularity in England. My most recent visit to Waterstones saw a whole display of new recipe books from various countries, my favourite of which being The New Nordic by Simon Bajada. Bajada has included some amazing Scandinavian recipes, as well as beautiful photographs of the landscape, restaurants and cuisine. He says Nordic cuisine is ever evolving and is becoming ever more popular in Michelin starred restaurants in the UK. The ingredients they use reflect the landscape they are used upon. This is a great coffee table book.

Another favourite is Raymond Blanc's Kew on a Plate which follows on from the television series in which Blanc along with Kate Humble spends a year at Kew Gardens in London focusing on growing produce. This is another recipe book that mixes healthy heating and foreign cuisine. The book, like the series, gives information and tips for growing fruit and vegetables, with Blanc introducing French recipes using the produce. This is a beautiful mix of English and French heritage, with Raymond Blanc himself being a keen gardener, having his own vegetable gardens and orchards at his Michelin-starred restaurant Belmond Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons. Meat is still used in many of the recipes but makes them no less healthy and balanced, with a delicious recipe for balsamic glazed-garlic, summer tomatoes and roast chicken legs.

These are just a few examples of the various types of recipe books that now sit in our English bookshops, influencing the way we eat. From vibrant vegetables to breathtaking baking, recipe books have most certainly been rejuvenated into attractive and colourful additions to coffee tables, rather than gathering dust on a kitchen shelf. The beautiful photographs and imaginative cooks' notes in between recipes prove presentation of food is just as important outside of restaurants. They have made me start to love cooking; instead of pouring boiling water over instant noodles, I am now making salmon en croute and beef wellington from scratch. From the girl who sets pancakes on fire to the girl who yearns to make her own ravioli; perhaps for that perfect shot with the caption #instaporn.