I eagerly await the release of a new Sebastian St. Cyr book every year; we’re up to book seventeen with When Blood Lies and it’s one of the best of the recent instalments, a fabulous blend of whodunit and history set in Paris in March of 1815, in the days leading up to Napoleon’s escape…
This sixteenth book in C.S Harris’ series of historical mysteries featuring aristocratic sleuth Sebastian St. Cyr is an entertaining page-turner which sees Sebastian investigating a number of particularly gruesome murders in and around London’s East End. As always with these books, the historical background is fascinating and incredibly well researched (it’s always worth reading the…
Who Speaks for the Damned is book fifteen in C.S. Harris’ series of historical mysteries featuring aristocratic sleuth, Sebastian St. Cyr, and could, at a pinch, be read as a standalone. While earlier books in the series featured a long-running plotline concerning Sebastian’s his search for the truth about his origins, that doesn’t really feature…
Do you love historical romance and/or historical mysteries? Then you should be reading (or listening to) the Sebastian St. Cyr series. Who Slays the Wicked, the fourteenth book in this long-running series is another compelling entry – although it isn’t quite as strong as many of the novels that precede it. As usual, Ms. Harris…
C.S. Harris has maintained a consistently high standard throughout her long-running Sebastian St. Cyr series of historical mysteries, but the last two or three books, in particular, have been outstanding – which is quite remarkable when one considers that this latest instalment, Why Kill the Innocent, is number thirteen. The individual mysteries are extremely well-constructed…
When it comes to C.S. Harris’ long-running series of historical mysteries featuring the aristocratic sleuth, Sebastian St. Cyr, I arrived rather late to the party. With eleven books already available, I wasn’t going to be able to catch up on them all in print, so, as I often do in such cases, I turned to…
It was the fly that got to him. In the misty light of early morning, the dead woman looked as if she might be sleeping, her dusky lashes resting against cheeks of pale eggshell, her lips faintly parted. She lay at the edge of a clover-strewn meadow near the river, the back of her head…