A woman of the New World: Sandra Freels' biographical novel about early American colonist Anneke Jans

Anneke Jans (1605-1663) was an early settler in the Dutch colony of New Netherland. Born in Norway, she voyaged to the New World with her husband Roelof, originally a sailor, and their two daughters. After landing at Fort Amsterdam, they headed north to Fort Orange (near Albany), where Roelof was commissioned to run a farm on the land of patroon Kiliaen van Rensselaer, prominent director of the Dutch West India Company.

The growing family later relocated back to New Amsterdam, where Anneke, who married twice, would have had a firsthand view of the new colony’s development and expansion – including contentious relations with the Native tribes and with the English.

What an eventful life she must have led! She left an extensive legacy: not only descendants that number in the millions, but also a famous, centuries-long land dispute centering on a 62-acre farm in the heart of Manhattan that she inherited from her first husband.

Pub. by She Writes (2026, 185pp)

Sandra Freels’ debut novel Anneke Jans in the New World, appropriately described by the author as a fictional biography, brings us into the day-to-day life of this notable figure and the political and social turmoil she lived through. Anneke is a likeable woman: amiable, practical, and always with an eye on how to improve her family members’ lives. This includes accepting the fact that, as a widow with multiple children, she must quickly remarry after Roelof dies at a tragically young age.

Her second husband Evert Bogart – who’s allowed to call himself Everardus Bogardus due to his university education (and does) – is quite the colorful character. Anneke holds her own against his forceful personality. Though being the wife of a dominee (minister) of the Dutch Reformed Church doesn’t come naturally to Anneke, she amusingly rehearses for the role so the community will find her facial expressions believable in church.

Freels enhances Anneke’s life with detailed descriptions of period customs, such as women’s experiences of the birthing chair, and her children’s celebrations of Christmastime, or Sinterklaas. Anneke also forms a friendship with a woman of the Native tribes (who the Dutch called “Wilden”) and recognizes the importance of trading gifts with her and her people.

However, Anneke isn’t given to much self-reflection. Many scenes are recounted in summary rather than shown firsthand, which diminishes the novel’s emotional engagement. Also, the sections that step away from Anneke’s viewpoint to show the larger political sphere from different perspectives are informative but feel out of place. A stronger developmental edit could have smoothed out the novel’s many bumps.

Even if her emotions aren’t as open to the reader as they could have been, Anneke’s confidence increases as she ages, making her seem even more admirable. Rich in land but not money, Anneke does what she must to ensure her descendants’ livelihoods. She and Evert, different as they are, make a good match.

While characters’ winks to modern knowledge don’t always work in historical fiction, it does feel natural for Evert to joke to the Director of New Netherland before his wedding that sure, Roelof’s farm “is going to be worth a fortune someday.” Who would have known back then that this undistinguished plot would become prime Manhattan real estate? The characters’ abilities to tease one another and do their best to adapt during trying times make them appealing company throughout this flawed but edifying novel.

My thanks to the book's publicist for providing me with an ARC.

A dance of love and power: Kelly Scarborough's Butterfly Games

Might you be interested in reading about a tender friends-to-lovers romance between two attractive young people, the complicated repercussions of their secret affair, and a damaging whisper network spreading rumors amongst their families and the country’s royal court – all set in the sparkling world of the early 19th-century nobility?

There’s even a meddlesome Queen Charlotte in the background.

If you’re picturing Regency England and Bridgerton, think again – and head northeast. Butterfly Games centers on the forbidden love story between Countess Jacquette Gyldenstolpe and the young man once known as Oscar Bernadotte, now the heir to Sweden’s newly elected crown prince.

It’s based in history, with reasonable liberties taken to fill in gaps.

As historical fiction fodder, this story offers ample material. In her author’s note, Kelly Scarborough reveals how she came up with her subject after reading Annemarie Selinko’s classic Desiree – about the unlikely rise to prominence of Prince Oscar’s mother – and how she immersed herself in the history and culture of Napoleonic-era Sweden to write Jacquette’s story. The result is a thoroughly engaging work of biographical fiction that digs deep in revealing her protagonists’ vulnerabilities and how larger political forces shift the course of their connection.

Jacquette and Oscar first meet in 1811 on the grounds of Drottningholm Palace, the royal household’s summer residence near Stockholm. Though only fourteen, Jacquette already knows she hates court life. She comes from a family of scandalous women, including her mother, Aurora, whose divorce has set the tongues of the queen’s maids of honor (the “Chatterati”) atwitter – and Jacquette’s unhappy about being left with them while Aurora’s away traveling with her lover, Chancellor Wetterstedt. Born a French commoner, Oscar, two years younger, has all the cheekiness and emotional uncertainty of a typical adolescent and none of the airs of a prince.

Jacquette and Oscar commiserate about their broken families and share unguarded views on political notables. In exchange for his keeping a confidence, she agrees to his one request: “Always tell me the truth.” Both are bright and well-meaning, yet naïve, since truth and trust are rarities in a court where secrets and “butterfly games” – short-lived dalliances – are de rigueur.

Four years later, when their friendship turns into passionate love, they learn, with painful firsthand experience, how the predatory royal court strips away everyone’s innocence.

Jacquette is engaging from the start. Royal mistresses are commonplace in history and in fiction, yet her personality shines with her youthful exuberance and, later, her determination to keep her head above water and protect her closest secret. While her mother seeks to exploit Jacquette’s closeness to Prince Oscar for the family’s benefit, Jacquette does find several allies, including her outspoken maid, Brita, and her stepfather, Wetterstedt, surprisingly a better father figure than her own father ever was. The author’s use of close third person to evoke Jacquette’s mindset is very effective, so the move into Jacquette’s first-person voice just for Part Four is jarring. The move into present tense afterward is less noticeable, but still feels unnecessary.

Political intrigue, ever-present, adds suspense. The former Crown Prince Gustav has been living in exile since boyhood, when his father was deposed. His potential return is desired by some, and dreaded by others. Because we stay within Jacquette’s viewpoint – knowing only what she knows and hears, as appropriate – we get a sufficient amount of knowledge about the current vs. former rulers of Sweden. On the other hand, for anyone curious about the complex circumstances that led Sweden to reject their monarch and elect one of Napoleon’s generals, Oscar’s father Marshal Bernadotte, to become heir presumptive to the throne as Crown Prince Charles Jean – you may want to do some outside reading.

One of the pleasures of reading this novel lies in seeing the many subtle channels through which power can flow, and in rooting for Jacquette as she develops the maturity to judge how best to react to them. The Swedish setting for Butterfly Games, an unusual one for Napoleonic-era fiction, has its own definite appeal.

Butterfly Games is published by She Writes Press this week; I read it from a NetGalley copy.

A dual-timeline Tudor novel: what worked and what didn't

Anne Brandon, eldest daughter of Henry VIII’s best friend and brother-in-law, was one of many aristocrats whose lives were torn apart by the king’s quest to divorce Katherine of Aragon. Turning the focus on Anne, as Alexandra Walsh does in her latest dual-timeline novel, illuminates a little-known story of marital strife, revenge, women’s resilience, and lasting love.

Anne grows up in the affectionate household of her Papa, Charles Brandon, and her stepmother, Mary Tudor. Her social position means she must marry a nobleman, and the partner chosen for her is Edward Grey, Baron Powis, even though Anne has always loved another. Edward’s taunts escalate to cruelty after Anne fails to give him a child.

The parallel narrative, set in 2024, features Caroline Harvey, whose reclusive late grandfather had authored a massively bestselling science fiction series. In researching the history of the remote Pembrokeshire woodlands that served as his writing nest, Caroline finds the ruins of a place called Hanworth House and investigates its provenance. In the process, Caroline reconnects with two old friends and deals with (or has her agent deal with; she’s a very wealthy woman) a difficult ex and his new girlfriend, who are squatters in Caroline’s London flat.

While Caroline’s narrative is interesting enough to hold attention, its ties to Anne’s story are loose—Caroline doesn’t make discoveries we don’t already know—and it’s frustrating to know that the author is withholding secrets about Caroline from the reader. For anyone who prefers historical over contemporary narratives, Anne’s tale can easily be enjoyed on its own. It offers a strong plot and a rewarding character arc for Anne, from her changing observations about the scandal-ridden royal court to her complex relationship with her charming, flawed father.

Alexandra Walsh's The House of Echoes was published by Boldwood Books (UK) last January.  I reviewed it initially for the Historical Novel Society and thought I'd expand upon my reaction a bit more.

Novels with parallel narratives set at different points are time are popular, and some intertwine their storylines more closely than others.  Anne Brandon's life story, which I hadn't known before, is a real find for the historical novelist. The modern storyline here is also fully fleshed out.  All good.  But in this case, the strand featuring Caroline didn't feel structurally necessary.  

In addition, Rebecca Makkai's Substack post "Hold the Withholding" hit my inbox after I'd finished writing my review, and her comments crystallized my thoughts about why one aspect of the novel bothered me.

Makkai explains in detail what many writers hope to achieve through narrative withholding, and gives instances when (and why) it can be a problem. 

The modern storyline of The House of Echoes is told in third person from Caroline's viewpoint, and we're open to her thoughts... except about some major secrets she's keeping.  We're reminded about these secrets periodically, and we don't learn what they are until the big reveal at the end.  The intent may have been to create suspense, but this technique was too irritatingly coy for my taste.

That said, if you're interested in lesser-known Tudor stories, the novel's worth reading for that aspect alone, and I'd recommend checking it out.

A romance with Egypt: Katherine Kirkpatrick's To Chase the Glowing Hours

When your life’s most transfiguring experience occurs at age 21, where do you go from there? Do you spend your remaining years seeking to recapture its essence, or can you realistically move ahead, pursuing happiness in other directions?

And are you able to acknowledge the ethical quandaries tied to that shining moment and your family’s very involvement in it?

Pub. by Regal House (Sept. 2025)

Katherine Kirkpatrick’s To Chase the Glowing Hours addresses these themes beautifully in her portrayal of Lady Evelyn (Eve) Herbert, daughter of the Earl of Carnarvon, who was her father’s companion-assistant on his archaeological trips to Egypt.

In 1922, alerted by his longtime archaeologist, Howard Carter, to an impending major discovery, Carnarvon travels with Eve from their home at Highclere Castle in Hampshire, England, to Cairo and then to the Valley of the Kings, where they’re present as the splendor of treasures from the tomb of King Tutankhamun, buried underground for over three millennia, is revealed.

If the novel lingers over these descriptions, it’s no more than they deserve. As Eve glimpses a golden throne appear under her torchlight in the intense desert heat, sees a figurine’s glass eyes reflect as if alive, and detects the exquisite scent of oil preserved in alabaster vessels, we’re there alongside her, feeling her amazement and elation.

Eve also begins falling in love with the man who made it all happen. The handsome, much older Carter is notoriously moody and antisocial, and he treats her with alternating affection and formality. Of the two, only she is unaware that a relationship between them would never work.

The outside world soon intrudes in the form of a governmental inspector assigned to the excavation, Egyptian nationalists wanting the British ejected from their country, and a particularly pushy journalist (since Carnarvon gave his competitors at The Times an exclusive). Eve’s father, too, is obviously ill. In addition to having his costs recompensed, Carnarvon’s prior agreements regarding the tomb would have half the artifacts coming directly to him—which he’s counting on—a typical colonialist sentiment of the period.

An aristocrat eager to support her beloved father, Eve feels this is only fair; the idea of Egyptian treasures belonging solely to Egypt is utterly foreign. Her feelings shift at a sensible pace for someone of her upbringing. Once back at Highclere, she also starts having unexpected feelings for her brother’s friend, Brograve Beauchamp, a potential suitor who sees things differently.

In terms of excitement, Eve’s Downton Abbey-style life at Highclere (the model for the estate in the TV show) can’t compete with her adventures in Egypt, but that’s likely the point. Though her life in either locale is far from what most of us will ever experience ourselves, the medium of fiction brings us into her world as she copes with multiple losses and develops a mature outlook that will stand her well in the future.

To Chase the Glowing Hours was published by Regal House in September 2025, and I reviewed it from a NetGalley copy. This is one of several recent novels about Lady Eve, including Gill Paul's The Collector's Daughter (2021) and Marie Benedict's Daughter of Egypt (2026).

New Year, new platform - Reading the Past is now also on Substack

Best wishes for a good upcoming year, as well as great reading to all of you for 2026! Thanks for following my posts. I always enjoy hearing from everyone, so please feel free to comment or reply with your own thoughts and reading recommendations.

For the last few months, I’ve been pondering the future of Reading the Past and where I’d like to take it. While I appreciate that the platform has been free, the Blogspot/Blogger interface has become antiquated and limiting. I haven’t been able to update the layout for years without risking the loss of important content. It’s not mobile-friendly, and it takes messing with HTML to get pictures and text to center correctly. I’m also under no illusion that Google will keep Blogger around forever. In addition, the Mailchimp software I use for email subscribers, which stopped being free around a year after I adopted it, is functional, but more cumbersome than it needs to be for admins.

About a year ago, I opened an account at Substack since many of my email subscriptions were on that platform, and I wanted to keep track of them all. I claimed a domain there since it asked me for a name, but I didn’t do anything as far as publishing on Substack. Until I had some downtime over the recent holiday break and got to exploring the options a little further. Before, the idea of migrating to a new platform, maybe paying $$$ for a redesign, had been daunting… but according to their Help files, Substack could automate the migration from Blogger.

So I tried it, and within a few hours, most of my 1,969 posts, covering the past twenty years, were copied over to Substack. (All but 53 of them. I don’t know which 53 are missing, which will haunt me, but I’ll learn to live with it.) I love the colorful new layout and its ease of use for subscriber management, and I’m getting familiar with the posting process.

My posts, now on Substack

 

The plan is for my Substack to act as a mirror of the Blogger version of Reading the Past going forward, so if you subscribe via email, you now have options. If you prefer to stick with your current newsletter format, you’re good. It isn’t going away. But if you’d prefer to move to Substack, you can unsubscribe from this site (I won’t judge you) and sign up there at:

https://readingthepast.substack.com

 
If you’re already subscribed to Reading the Past on Substack, even though there wasn’t much to look at until a few days ago, thank you! For those currently subscribed to both, you'll probably want to unsub from one or the other since, apart from the post you’re reading now, you’ll get duplicate content in your inbox if you don’t. Either way, my posts will remain free to read.

Thanks again for reading, and wherever you plan to join me, I’m glad you’re here and look forward to sharing more reviews and historical fiction news in the coming year.

An intrepid female reporter investigates crime in Victorian Bristol in The Emerald Shawl

In 1864 Bristol, England, Miss Helen “Nelly” Brooks, first female reporter at the Courier, yearns to dig into meaty investigations but is limited to writing domestic pieces for the women’s page. So when she gets a note from a woman claiming knowledge of a “dreadful murder,” Nelly feels she’s struck gold.

Seamstress Eliza Morgan, huddled in a green shawl in the saloon bar where they meet, tells a fantastic story that feels like a scam: a prominent man’s wife and newborn have been killed, but she won’t reveal their identity to Nelly, or the woman’s secret diary, without being paid. Eliza also has a healthy appetite for gin and claims to have seen the murdered woman’s ghost.

Pub. by Boldwood Books 

The next day, Eliza’s body is found floating in the harbour: had she fallen in drunk, or was she offed by the man she claims was following her? Now there are three people for whom Nelly feels pressed to seek justice.

Douglas draws on Nellie Bly’s real-life story—Nelly’s American counterpart from a generation later—while creating a kaleidoscopic tour through Victorian fiction tropes. We have séances, body snatching, mistreatment of women by powerful men, Upstairs/Downstairs relationships, and a manor house full of secrets. Many character names (Mr. Snitch, Mrs. Augur) feel rather Dickensian. Unlike Miss Bly, who went undercover in an asylum, our Nelly has survived one, having been incarcerated for a decade by her parents after bearing her lover’s illegitimate daughter.

The novel is highly derivative of many sources, but when it homes in on the central mystery, the plot grabs hold, continuing through its surprising resolution. While reckless at times (accompanying your main suspect into his carriage isn’t super smart), Nelly’s determination to regain her child is laudable, and the setting—Bristol rather than the typical London—adds originality.

The Emerald Shawl was published by Boldwood Books (UK) in July.  Douglas is a prolific author of mysteries and Gothic novels, though this is the first of her books I've read.  

In the shadows of great art: Rembrandt's Promise by Barbara Leahy

This beautifully composed debut by Irish writer Leahy plunges readers into the world of Geertje Dircx, a nursemaid in Rembrandt’s household who became his lover after his wife’s death and challenged him in court after he abandoned his pledge to marry her. Geertje was treated poorly by her male contemporaries, her reputation tarnished while Rembrandt’s continued to rise. With richly textured detail, Leahy re-creates Geertje’s life and milieu, revealing her perspective and handling her story with the utmost respect.

It’s March 1642 when Geertje’s brother, Pieter, delivers her, a poor widow in her early thirties, to the wealthy artist’s Amsterdam home to tend to his infant son, Titus. She settles well into her new life, loving Titus as she might have loved her own son had he lived, and establishing a rapport with other servants. She also cares for her pretty, high-born mistress, who suffers from ill health.

Geertje admires her talented master from a distance, but after Rembrandt’s wife dies from tuberculosis three months later, she succumbs to the pull of connection and begins an affair with him, against her family’s warnings. She remains his secret mistress for years, believing his word that he’ll make her his wife, until a new maid, Hendrickje Stoffels, supplants her in his affections.

Notably, for a novel with a celebrated painter as a major figure, Rembrandt’s work isn’t centered. However, Geertje observes her surroundings with her own artistic eye. We feel the prickliness of her straw-filled bed tick, see the bustling trade along the canal, hear the regular chimes from the Zuiderkerk. She’s outwardly a reserved woman, making her heartbreak over the failed affair more profound.

Her female friends, including her outspoken, take-charge cousin Trijn, a wonderful character, provide moral support following all the betrayals she endures. Despite everything, Geertje remains determined to fight for what she’s owed. A transfixing read.

Rembrandt's Promise appeared from Eriu, the Dublin-based imprint of Bonnier Books UK, in March 2025.  I reviewed it from a personal copy for the Historical Novel Society.  Interestingly I have another novel on my shelves, still unread, which may serve as a counterpoint to this one: Rembrandt's Mirror by Kim Devereux, the story of Hendrickje Stoffels.  If you've read either, let me know what you think!

Lorena Hughes' The Queen of the Valley takes an entertaining trip to 1920s Colombia

Martin Sabater, owner of a cacao plantation near Cali, Colombia, in 1925, has disappeared after organizing a fundraising gala to support his old boarding school. His absence creates hardships for some, and opportunities for others.

After months pass without the cacao bean shipments that supply her chocolate shop, Maria Purificacíon de Lafont, called Puri, travels from Ecuador to find out what happened to her friend and former lover. Following circumstances on the way that are both terrible and kind of wacky, Puri arrives at her destination wearing a nun’s habit. She decides staying in disguise is her best hope for learning the truth.

Pub. by Kensington (2023)

In his absence, Martin’s hacienda has been transformed into a hospital, and everyone avoids conversations about him. Even more, Puri seems to have landed into a smoldering pit of tension, one stemming from jealousies, family resentments, and love affairs gone wrong. Living in and around the place are its purported new owner, Arab Colombian physician Farid Manzur; his sister Camila, an actual nun caring for cholera patients; and photographer Lucas Ferreira, boyhood friend of Martin and Farid, who still carries a torch for Camila.

That’s just a sampling of the goings-on in this entertaining concoction of a novel. Between all the relationships and flashbacks, keeping track of the nested subplots demands focused attention, so it doesn’t help that the three first-person voices (Puri, Lucas, and Camila) sound too similar. The energetic storyline keeps humming along, though, amid Puri’s snooping around and faking her way through nunhood. Plus, the earthquake that hit southwestern Colombia at the time literally shakes things up.

This was written as a sequel to the author’s The Spanish Daughter (see my review), which you don’t need to have read, but if you want the scoop on Puri and Martin’s past history, it’s worth checking out first. As always, Hughes mixes comedic and tragic moments without diminishing the impact of either. Life being what it is, there are times when it doesn’t work out, but you also get the sense she wants to give her characters happy endings whenever possible.

The Queen of the Valley was published by Kensington in 2023.  I'm continuing with my quest to review older NetGalley requests with the goal of getting my ratio up to 90%.  Slowly getting there!

Canticle illuminates the life of a female religious visionary in medieval Flanders

In her debut, set in late 13th-century Flanders, Edwards brings to glowing life the story of a young woman consumed with desire for God and knowledge, a most unorthodox obsession.

Aleys, “thirteen years old and powerfully odd,” is the daughter of a wool producer in Damme, which sits near the trading center of Brugge (Bruges). She grows up enraptured by her mother’s illuminated psalter. After her Mama’s tragic death in childbirth, Aleys learns to read Dutch to help with the family business, but Aleys seeks to know Latin, the language of scripture. Through her friendship with Finn, a dyer’s son, she achieves this, and her education and Catholic fervor attract the attention of a Franciscan preacher, Friar Lukas, who wants a woman to establish a new order.

When her father forces her betrothal to a wealthy merchant to save their fortunes, Aleys runs away to Lukas. During her novitiate, he settles her with the Beguines, a group of lay religious women rumored to be wanton. Aleys’ vow of obedience chafes, since her soul yearns to fly.

The prologue foretells a devastating end for Aleys, drawing curiosity about what led her there. It takes talent to write accessibly about religious ecstasy and the impact of faith while preserving their mysteries, and Edwards achieves this through many gorgeously written passages, beginning with the opening scene.

Though slow in parts, the novel evokes a little-depicted yet decisive time, when people sought closeness to God through unauthorized translations, wandering Franciscans sought new recruits, and religious women—Beguine communities, mystics, and anchoresses—were carefully watched by church authorities.

Aleys’ journey from prideful teenager to visionary is powerfully moving as she discovers the rules of men are too narrow to admit her abilities. Fans of Mary Sharratt’s literary historical fiction about women and faith will especially welcome Edwards’ new novel.

Canticle was published this week by Spiegel & Grau; I reviewed it for the Historical Novel Society in November.  Read more about the background to the novel at the author's website.  Canticle made it to the LibraryReads list for December 2025 (the top 10 adult fiction and nonfiction picks chosen by public library staff from around the country). This would make a great book club pick.

What a laptop can't do: Why a notebook is essential to my storytelling life, a guest post from Ginny Kubitz Moyer

In today's essay, historical fiction author Ginny Kubitz Moyer explores the benefits and pleasures of writing down her thoughts longhand.  My thanks to Ginny for contributing her post!

~

What a Laptop Can't Do: Why a Notebook is Essential to My Storytelling Life

Ginny Kubitz Moyer

More than thirty years ago, as a college student visiting London, I was thrilled to see the handwritten draft of Virginia Woolf’s novel Mrs. Dalloway on display. It was fascinating to see how Woolf had crossed out certain words and written others above them, trying out various options before settling on the right one. As I left the exhibit, it struck me that with the advent of personal computers, writing a first draft has changed dramatically. A sleek font now stands in for an author’s penmanship, and a delete button has erased the need for a handwritten strikethrough. I remember feeling a certain romantic nostalgia for the old days, when a notebook and pencil were the primary materials of an author’s toolkit.

Back then, I didn’t know that I’d end up being a novelist myself. I didn’t know that I’d depend upon a laptop to write my stories, that I’d be lost without its ease and convenience. But I also didn’t know that in addition to my trusty Mac, I would always—always!—have a notebook and pencil at the ready.

Although I don’t use it for drafting my novels, a notebook—specifically, one of those composition books with the speckled covers—is an essential part of my writing life. It’s a safe space dedicated to play, exploration, and writing without pressure. It’s the low-stakes laboratory where I can mix words and see what results.

For one thing, the notebook is where I warm up at the start of the writing day. In her famous guide The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron recommends a daily practice of three longhand “morning pages” to clear the air. I don’t always do three pages, but I do find it valuable to scribble a description of what the day is like, what I see out of my window, what’s in my thoughts. It’s a helpful transition from morning coffee into a creative frame of mind.

Notebooks are also where I figure out what will happen in my novels. This is essential, because one quirk of mine (shared by many authors) is that I cannot plot in advance. Try as I might, I can’t come up with a story idea in the abstract and draw up a scene outline before I begin. For better or worse, I have to write my way into it.

So I start with a general sense of who I think my main character will be. I’ll take a prompt from one of my writing books (usually something vague, like “write about a sunset”) and I’ll freewrite, with the character in mind. The more scenes I write, the more I get to know my protagonist and the setting. Other characters will appear in the freewrites, and conflicts too, and sometimes I’ll stumble upon insights that end up being the thematic heart of my story. It’s like being in a darkroom and watching a negative develop: from dim shadowy outlines, the details gradually emerge. Often it takes months of freewriting before I know the plot well enough to begin writing my first draft.

Sometimes I do this freewriting on my laptop for expediency’s sake, but more often I do it in my notebook. Writing by hand is liberating; the words don’t look perfect, so they don’t have to be perfect, not yet. When I’m fumbling my way into a new novel, I need to remove all expectation that it’ll be smooth and polished. Paper and pen are brilliant for that.

Pub. by She Writes Press, Dec. 2025

In the last few years, my notebooks have taken on another role as well: that of mood board or visual library. Because my genre is historical fiction, I’m constantly looking up clothing, interior design, and other images to spark my imagination. I have Pinterest boards for visuals that remind me of the time period or look like the characters, and that’s helpful, but not as helpful as having them before my eyes as I freewrite.

So a few years ago, it occurred to me that I could print out the pictures and paste them right into the notebooks. I love doing this, because it adds another layer of playfulness to my writing life. It’s fun to tap into my inner child by using scissors and glue, and once the images are there it’s like a little gift to turn the page and be greeted by a picture that I chose weeks before. (Sometimes, there’s an almost spooky connection between words and images: once I was writing about a character on a hill looking over the horizon, and turned the page to find a picture of a young girl standing on the top of a peak!)

I’ve got over twenty notebooks by now, and while they do take up a fair amount of bookshelf space, I can’t imagine my writing life without them. For something so modest and unassuming, those notebooks are precious. In that safe space between the speckled covers, anything can happen … and that’s the magic of being an author, in any generation.

~

Ginny Kubitz Moyer is the author of the novels The Seeing Garden and A Golden Life (named one of Kirkus Reviews’ Best Indie Books of 2024). Her upcoming novel, The World at Home, is published in December 2025. She lives with her family in the San Francisco Bay Area. You can learn more at www.ginnymoyer.org.

The historical fiction cover art trend I wouldn't have predicted

When you think historical fiction, the color neon pink doesn't immediately spring to mind.  (Or green, purple, blue, or yellow.)  But there's no denying that the lettering on these novels makes a statement.  Their covers juxtapose historical images with electrically bright typefaces.

This design trend was noted in Elisabeth Egan's New York Times article (gift link) from June 21st, where the images were described as "the new signifiers of stylish literary fiction."  Unlike the examples in the article, the 11 novels below aren't necessarily all literary, and they don't all use old paintings in the background. Some could be described as dark historical fantasy, and the obvious color contrast jolts the senses, preparing the reader for the gothic thrills to be found within. Many are forthcoming for 2026, and there are likely more covers of a similar style in the works.

An acclaimed historical nonfiction author (Light of Days) focuses her fiction debut on the interlinked stories of two Jewish women in inter-war Warsaw, a city of artistic achievement and rising antisemitism.  Dutton, April 2026.

This gothic reimagining of Sheridan Le Fanu's classic vampire novel Carmilla, an inspiration for Bram Stoker's Dracula, is a sapphic romance set in Victorian times. Zando, February 2025.

A "propulsive novel of feminist resistance and rage" moving between modern Los Angeles and 1970s New York, following three generations of women, including some that take the law into their own hands under the moniker "Lady X."  Ballantine, May 2026.

Loyalty, friendship, and violent competition flourish among the girl gangs of late 1950s London in this debut novel. Atlantic (UK), February 2025.  

19th-century Mormon Utah goes gothic in another debut in which a young woman comes to live with her husband and her fellow sister-wives in a haunted Salt Lake City mansion; the characters are reportedly inspired by the author's family history.  Kensington, March 2026.

A young woman of mixed Indian-English heritage with an unerring sense of taste becomes a poison-taster for a French nobleman in the late 19th century, and he could really use her help.  Also a debut novel.  Berkley, June 2026.

Second in the Charlie James series from Australian novelist Manning, this historical mystery has its reporter heroine looking into the odd disappearance of an American tourist in pre-WWII Paris. Vintage, July 2026.

From the bestselling author of Mexican Gothic: a seductive con artist encounters two women who complicate his treacherous plans in small-town Mexico in the 1940s.  Del Rey, July 2026.

In this twisty psychological thriller with an unreliable narrator, a young amnesiac at a psychiatric hospital in 1954 Virginia must decide whether to trust her dystopian visions of the future or the mental health treatment she's told she needs.  Henry Holt, August 2025.

Art, upscale crime, and the allure of wealth mix in this dual-time novel set in modern Paris and the world of Vincent van Gogh's sister-in-law, Jo, who secured his legacy.  Dutton, July 2026.

Literary fiction and sapphic romance set in the Dutch Golden Age, featuring painter Maria van Oosterwijck and her family's servant, Gerta, who became a still-life painter in her own right.  Zando, September 2025.

Inspector Ian Rutledge returns in the post-WWI mystery novella A Christmas Witness

Can a story be haunted and heartwarming at the same time? Just like the holiday classic that inspired it, Charles Todd makes this unlikely pairing work in his latest entry in the Ian Rutledge series.

In late 1921, Rutledge, Chief Inspector at Scotland Yard, gets asked by his superior to take on a case of the utmost sensitivity. Rutledge knows that as a single man with a recent promotion, work must take priority over a planned Christmas with family.

At his home in Kent, Lord Edward Braxton lies recovering after a head wound, claiming he was mown down by a horseman in foxhunting clothes who vanished right afterward. As a colonel in the Great War who served on the personal staff of Field Marshal Haig, a man nicknamed “the Butcher” for the millions of British casualties under his leadership, Braxton poses a challenge extending beyond his impatience and surliness.

As long-time series readers know, Rutledge suffers from PTSD in the form of night terrors and terrible guilt, embodied through the imagined voice of a soldier he was forced to execute for disobeying orders at the Somme. The oppressive shadow of WWI sits at the forefront of this series.

Following his investigation into the mysterious horseman, Rutledge begins wondering if Braxton’s injury affected his memory, but he can hardly ask him that. He senses that Braxton’s devoted wife, Louisa, is hiding something, too.

Rutledge is a methodical observer of his environs, as exemplified by his fine eye for architecture and the step-by-step directions on how his Rolls Royce operates. While interesting from a historical perspective, all these descriptions do slow the pacing down, and suspense is negligible.

Those who read for ongoing character development should be pleased, however. The ending, reflecting the spirit of the season, provides new understandings for both Rutledge and others.

The novella A Christmas Witness was published by The Mysterious Press, an imprint at its new home of Penzler Publishers, in October, and I reviewed it for the Historical Novel Society.  This story can stand alone easily.

Charles Todd, formerly a longtime mother-son writing team, is now authoring his novels solo. Alison McMahan, writing for the Historical Novels Review in May, examined the writing, publishing, and legal complications that arose after the death of Charles's mother, Caroline, in her feature article "The Lost Writing Partner."

In Circle of Days, Ken Follett imagines the lives of the people who built Stonehenge

Follett brings his storytelling prowess to another epic about a marvel of human engineering, illustrating answers to the major questions (who, what, when, why, and how?) about the construction of Stonehenge. 

Pub. by Grand Central (US/Can), Oct. 2025

Circle of Days reflects his trademark style: easily digestible prose combined with a large cast of recognizable yet interesting characters. He keeps the plot spinning with the challenges that different groups face, from severe drought and famine to deep-rooted antagonism, though an immense cooperative effort is what gets the job done.

The time is around 2500 BCE. Seft, the inquisitive youngest son in a flint-mining family, has the ingenuity to put elaborate plans into action. His first goals involve extricating himself from his boorish, abusive father and brothers, and getting to know Neen, an attractive woman from the herder clan. Neen’s younger sister, Joia, has curiosity of her own, which leads her to spy on the priestesses who conduct the seasonal rites at the Monument. These events bring together everyone living around the Great Plain – herders, farmers, woodlanders, flint-miners – for holy purposes (sun-worshipping) and more secular ones (friendship, feasting, sex).

The priestesses hold knowledge about the calendar and mathematics, and they use the Monument and ancestral songs to track the days of the year. But, as Joia recognizes, the wooden circle of the Monument is susceptible to destruction, and so it proves. After becoming a priestess herself, this female visionary ponders her objective of rebuilding it in stone, with Seft as the brains behind the operation, but many obstacles lie ahead… ones that make even survival uncertain.

Follett emphasizes throughout how sophisticated the cultures of these long-ago peoples must have been, both technologically and in the customs of their daily lives. He also imparts a message, not intrusive but definitely there, about how societies that treat women poorly will eventually face a reckoning.

This review first appeared in the Historical Novels Review in November.

Also of note: archaeologist Mike Pitts, one of the consultants for Circle of Days (and whose own nonfiction book about Stonehenge inspired Follett), has an article up on his website about the latest research about the building of the legendary monument, which Follett incorporated into his story.

Voting is open for the the Goodreads Choice Awards for 2025

The first round for the 2025 Goodreads Choice Awards is open for voting through November 23rd.  The twenty nominees are as follows. Settings range from the 16th century through contemporary times.

This award has a broad umbrella for "historical fiction."  What Kind of Paradise takes place in the mid-1990s (I was in grad school then), Taylor Jenkins Reid's Atmosphere in the 1980s, and Good Dirt is mostly contemporary with some shorter historical segments. This doesn't agree with my definition, but I use the award as a bellwether of shifts within the industry.  It's true that I've seen novels set in the 1990s and even in the 2000s promoted as historical fiction.

Reid is a frequent winner of this award; likewise Kristin Hannah, but she doesn't have a historical out this year. Still, Atmosphere has serious competition from Claire Leslie Hall's Broken Country, which was a NYT bestseller and a Reese's Book Club pick. The former has the edge, but they were both rated on Goodreads over 300,000 times apiece.

I also noted the cover designs. It's a bright, multicolored assortment.  Compare these to the nominees from ten years ago, which were fairly muted.  Also, how many of the above covers say "historical fiction" to you?  Many could easily be mistaken for contemporary fiction. The "headless woman" trend we'd seen for so long has nearly vanished here.

Below are the first round picks for the general Fiction category.  I confess I'd checked out a few of them originally to see what they were about, since the covers looked appropriate for historical fiction (The Names, A Guardian and a Thief, The Wild Dark Shore in particular), then discovered they weren't. They still interest me, though.

What does it mean that historical fiction seems to be losing its distinctive look?  Readers who prefer to stay in genre will need to be more clued in to publisher blurbs, reviews, and other sources of buzz.  But the mainstreaming process we're seeing with their covers could also broaden their audience. I welcome your thoughts.

Review of Elinor Florence's Finding Flora, a #1 Canadian bestseller about a woman's pioneer homesteading life

For anyone wanting to lose themselves in a big-hearted historical novel, this is your book. The pace never flags from the first sentence, as Flora Craigie leaps from a train chugging past the darkened Alberta landscape in 1905, in a desperate attempt to escape the husband who turned violent after their recent marriage.

An emigrant from the Scottish Highlands, with the accent to prove it, Flora has few possessions save a small valise, identification papers, her savings, and “secret treasure” sewn into her petticoat. She also has inner know-how and gumption, and in this gorgeous yet harsh country, that counts for a lot.

At first, she catches a lucky break. In Canada, unlike the United States, most single women are disallowed from claiming homesteads, but Flora manages to purchase a land scrip coupon from a sympathetic female veteran. With no knowledge of farming, and condescension—if not outright hostility—from local men (and one snooty woman), Flora has a tough row to hoe.

She holds the reader’s sympathy as she struggles with breaking the land, planting crops, and surviving the intensely frigid winter alone in her small cabin. Her closest neighbors are, coincidentally, also female, all with interesting backstories: a Welsh coal miner’s widow with three children, two former Boston schoolteachers seeking a secluded life together, and an aloof Métis horse trainer.

More established settlers derisively call their small community “Ladyville.” Flora has doubts about their commonalities, though the five women reclaim the term as they help each other endure. Then Flora learns her husband is on her trail.

The author’s fluid narration moves along swiftly as it explores the rewards and difficulties of pioneer life on the Canadian prairie, but the descriptions of the land as it reawakens in green every spring are worth lingering over. This #1 Canadian fiction bestseller is joyously recommended.

Finding Flora was published by Simon & Schuster (trade paperback) in Canada and the US in April.  I reviewed it for the Historical Novel Society originally.  Elinor Florence is also the author of Wildwood, a multi-period novel set in Alberta during pioneer days and contemporary times, and Bird's Eye View, set during WWII. Both are, according to the author's website, sold out and will be reissued soon.

In remembrance of Christopher (C.W.) Gortner

I wanted to write a post about Christopher (C. W.) Gortner, who passed away suddenly on October 25th, 2025, to the shock and sorrow of the literary community. My friend Christopher was such a vibrant presence that the news has been hard to take in.

He had several specialties within historical fiction: the Tudor era and the Renaissance, the setting for multiple novels and a spy thriller series; and controversial real-life women, like Catherine de Medici, Isabella of Castile, and Coco Chanel. He delved into their motivations convincingly, exploring their inner lives with delicate skill.

Some readers mistook his insights into these women’s characters for full admiration of everything they did – not true – and it’s to his credit that he didn’t shy away from history’s moral complexities.

He spoke frankly about the craziness of the publishing industry, had no tolerance for snobs or injustice, and was the go-to person when you wanted to hear or share the latest gossip or snark (he could snark like no one else). He took on Facebook battles with panache and gallantly stepped in to defend his friends when they were attacked by online trolls.

Christopher had been a reader of this blog from its early days and stopped by here many times as a contributor and commenter. In 2006, when historical fiction was flourishing, he wrote an essay about what he called “histo-romance” and how it related to his publishing journey. He explored the backdrop to The Tudor Secret (a later edition of his debut) and the history and legend of Marlene Dietrich, and we did interviews for The Queen’s Vow, about Isabella of Castile, and The Confessions of Catherine de Medici.

Christopher first dropped into my inbox in 2004, as an up-and-coming author with a spy/adventure thriller (The Secret Lion) not yet printed. He was in search of future review venues and a community of like-minded souls. Before long, he went from joining a new community to creating and sustaining it, drawing other authors into his large circle of friends.  He soon got a mainstream publishing deal also.  He devoted time to participating in reader forums, because he was an avid reader, too.

On the surface, he and I may not have seemed much alike. He was confidently extroverted and a witty and effortless public speaker. It was typical for booksellers to run out of copies of his books after he spoke on panels. He also had more fashionable taste in shoes than me.

But we quickly built a shared interest in history and bookishness, trading honest takes on old and new novels and the publishing industry. We also had the same experience of having the Cat Distribution System working overtime at our respective houses; he adored the animals he rescued and was a fierce advocate for animal rights.

And about the shoes – they almost caused problems once. We had met up in Chicago for a past ALA Midwinter, where he had a book signing. After dinner, he accompanied me to an evening ALA event. We left the venue and emerged into one of the worst blizzards ever to hit the city, the snow arriving earlier than expected. A moment to laugh about later, but at the time, he, with his expensive footwear, looked aghast. Rather than our walking a few blocks to meet my husband at the hotel, we grabbed a cab, stat, and the shoes survived.

A favorite memory: at the Historical Novel Society conference in Schaumburg in 2009, we were chatting in the hotel lobby when a Publishers Weekly reporter stopped by. Christopher gave her a hilarious 40-second interview about getting into character while writing about Juana of Castile during her pregnancy.

No notes, no prep, perfectly timed – how did he do it?

He had exacting standards for his own writing and advocated for himself in an industry that often seems capricious and unfair. As any author knows, the business of writing can be all-consuming, and there were days if not weeks when his work was the main topic of conversation… but he recognized this intense absorption and would joke about it.

On his Facebook page, he made a point of memorializing those who enriched his life: friends, colleagues, designers, movie stars.  Given his impact on the writing community, it's not surprising for so many people to be doing the same for him, though he left us much too soon. He is greatly missed.

Interview with Susan Coventry, author of the biographical novel Till Taught By Pain

Within historical fiction, Susan Coventry's Till Taught By Pain offers something unique: the little-known story of an accomplished and historically important American surgeon, the talented nurse he married, and how their relationship was affected by his hidden cocaine addiction. William Stewart Halsted, a native New Yorker born in 1852, was a founding professor at John Hopkins Hospital.  His wife Caroline Hampton, niece of a Confederate general, broke away from images of traditional Southern womanhood by training as a nurse up north.

Seen through the viewpoints of both husband and wife, this biographical novel is a fascinating story of their individual struggles and their partnership, all informed by the author's firsthand knowledge of medicine (she's a retired physician) and primary source research into her characters and the era. I read it avidly from start to finish. I was glad to have the opportunity to ask Susan some questions about her work.  Hope you'll enjoy reading this interview!

~

Dr. William Stewart Halsted is no longer a household name, although Till Taught by Pain makes a convincing case that he should be. What had you learned about Halsted in med school, and what spurred you to look into his personal life in more depth?

We were taught very little history of medicine in medical school, so I’d never even heard his name until my pathology residency. While I was learning about breast cancer, someone made a passing reference to the Halsted method of radical mastectomy, mainly to point out that it had been discredited. It was a drastic and mutilating surgery, and I was given the impression that it was something of a crime committed against women way back in the past. But it’s really more nuanced than that. It was one step along a very long and ongoing path to treating cancer.

My interest in Halsted was sparked while reading a dual biography of Freud and Halsted, who both became addicted to cocaine while experimenting with the drug for medical purposes. (I’d initially picked up the book because I was curious about Freud’s addiction.) There is an anecdote in the book about how Halsted “invented” rubber gloves for his OR nurse (Caroline) who suffered a terrible dermatitis from the chemicals used for hand washing before surgery. It’s presented as a prelude to their courtship. That’s what grabbed my attention. The more I looked into this “Gloves of Love” story, the more complicated and fascinating both he and she became.

Pub. by Regal House (Nov. 4, 2025)

Halsted and Caroline come from very different backgrounds. I appreciated all the detail about their families, and how their upbringings added layers of interest and also complications to their partnership, considering they married just 25 years after the Civil War ended. Had you been interested in writing about late 19th-century America before conceptualizing this book?

It was more the other way around. I wasn’t specifically looking to write in this time and place, but Halsted’s story drew me into it. Their lifetimes spanned the Civil War through WWI, so there was a lot to digest. I had some built-in support from my husband, who is a historian focusing on the 19th century U.S., and my son, who is a high school history teacher, but writing in this time period taught me how little I knew about it. Fortunately, the research phase was fascinating, and I came out with way more interest in and knowledge of turn-of-the-20th century U.S. history than I had going in.

How did you choose the viewpoints, telling Halsted’s story in third person and Caroline’s in first?

I initially wrote the book from two third-person viewpoints. I’m much more comfortable writing in third person. But Caroline’s story was overwhelmed by Halsted’s, and she seemed to fade into the background. My wonderful developmental editor suggested switching to first person for both, but I couldn’t put myself convincingly in the head of a man in the throes of addiction and withdrawal. I needed him in third person. However, I found that writing Caroline’s viewpoint in the first person pulled her forward and brought her out of Halsted’s shadow.

The novel explores the notion of complicity and secrecy when it comes to addiction, and how Caroline – and Halsted’s close associates, too – acted to hide his drug dependence. Do you feel Caroline hasn’t been given sufficient credit in terms of ensuring her husband’s successful career? How complex was it to research a topic that was kept quiet during Halsted’s lifetime?

I definitely feel Caroline hasn’t been given enough credit! There isn’t much of substance about her in the historical record, but she was accounted to be a smart woman, able to hold her own with her brilliant husband. One problem I had researching her is that she is seen largely through the eyes of a few of his colleagues who considered her odd and anti-social, and that characterization has been carried forward as fact.

I don’t see how Halsted could have reached such heights and kept his addiction secret without Caroline’s support. Of course, that begs the question: should she have enabled his drug abuse? He was an impaired physician. Even she (in my fictional account) questions this.

It is complicated to research something that is currently accepted as true but that wasn’t common knowledge at the time of the story’s setting. Given how closely guarded a secret his addiction was, I do wonder how many people knew or suspected. It was fascinating to see how the secret was covered up and then uncovered over time. In letters exchanged by his colleagues, there are sometimes tantalizing hints, but no one comes out and names the problem. In a biography written shortly after his death, it is acknowledged that he had some trouble with cocaine early in his career, but it’s emphasized that he had completely recovered by the time he moved to Baltimore. Then as now, there is stigma attached to addiction so I imagine friends and colleagues who suspected it tried hard not to believe it. The question remains: Does this taint his legacy or make him more human, more complex?

author Susan Coventry

What are some favorite facts and stories you learned about from research into archival records?

My favorite finds in the archives are personal letters. Halsted is remembered as a reserved, private man with a biting wit. Yet in his letters, he is very polite and often playful. Perhaps even flirtatious. I have a letter that Harvey Cushing (another giant in the history of surgery) wrote to his fiancée, describing the aftermath of a carriage accident that injured Caroline, where he inserts a description of “the delicious coffee I’ve told you about and some bread and white unsalted butter. All very Halstedian.” To me, that comment demonstrated the admiration of a young mentee mixed with his amusement over his mentor’s quirks. I can “hear” him talking to his Katie, poking fun at the great surgeon. The young always feel slightly superior to their elders, don’t they?

Caroline’s letters were the most important to me, because they were revealing of her personality, and that was hard to get at otherwise. Very few of her letters are extant, unfortunately, and nothing touches on her husband’s addiction. But there are early letters to her aunt where she discusses her upcoming marriage that give a good glimpse into her state of mind. And my favorites are the rare surviving letters to Halsted, written when she was at their summer home in North Carolina while he was still back in Baltimore. She gives him day-to-day news. She gives him very explicit instructions on where to find the spaghetti she wants him to bring with him when he comes down. And in one, she adds a P.S., “Thank you for the candy. Don’t send anymore.” That really warmed my heart, to think of him sending her candy while they were apart, and her joking response that she shouldn’t be eating it. None of these anecdotal finds were earthshaking, but the big events of Halsted’s life, and Caroline’s, can be found in the biographies and histories of Johns Hopkins Hospital. For a historical novelist, the archives present a way to discover the personal side of the protagonists, and that helps to bring them to life.

You’ve written one YA novel about a 12th-century royal woman, a Regency romance series, and now literary biographical fiction set in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, which makes for a really interesting publishing journey! How did this come about – did your interests change over time, or was it more a matter of finding the right publishers for the subjects you wanted to write about? Do you have any suggestions for authors who want to explore a variety of styles and subjects in their historical fiction?

My interests changed over time.

Way, way back when I started writing, I was deeply into medieval history, particularly that of France and England. I didn’t intend to write a YA novel, but my kids were in their tweens/early teens at the time, so I was reading a lot of YA fiction with them, and that must have influenced the way I wrote.

In the years between the publication of The Queen’s Daughter (2010) and now, I wrote several other manuscripts that are now stuffed away in the drawer, but I came back to writing biographical fiction because I am especially drawn to novels that are firmly grounded in real people and events. At the same time, as a physician who’d been in the field a long time, I found myself more and more interested in the history of medicine. And when I came across Halsted and Caroline, I knew I wanted to write their story.

The romance series was something else entirely. I read romance to relax and escape. When the pandemic hit, I needed that escapism more than ever, so I decided to try writing romance as well as reading it. Counting on Love resulted. It was accepted by Dragonblade, and they publish series, not standalones, so I got to write three more novels to tell the love stories of each of the siblings. I suppose my suggestion for other authors who want to branch out and write in different styles or subgenres is to not chase trends but to write what you love to read. If you do want to take your writing in a different direction altogether, start by reading a lot in that genre or subgenre. And then, go for it!

~

Susan Coventry is a retired physician with a lifelong historical fiction obsession. Her first novel, The Queen’ s Daughter, was a YA historical set in the Middle Ages. She has since switched from YA to adult novels and moved on from medieval Europe to the turn-of- the-20th-century U.S. She lives in Louisville, KY with her historian husband, Brad Asher. Visit her website at https://susancoventry.com.

Kelly J. Goshorn's The Undercover Heiress of Brockton, set in 1905 Massachusetts, evokes strength and love amidst tragic events

In 1905 Brockton, Massachusetts, Miss Henrietta Maxwell is a busy, eccentric young woman. The tall, bespectacled daughter of a self-made Bostonian businessman with Brockton roots, she attends upscale garden parties and writes a city society column while living in a Brockton boardinghouse and writing hard-hitting news for the Brockton Enterprise in disguise as “Henry Mason.”

Until now, Etta successfully kept her secret under wraps, but Leo Eriksson, a local fireman, unmasks her identity (literally) after she falls from a tree while investigating corruption and arson—knocking both her and Leo to the ground. Impressed by her intelligence and gumption, Leo agrees to stay quiet about Etta’s clandestine career.

They begin courting, hoping their affection will surmount class barriers, but a devastating industrial accident complicates things. The sensational headlines and cold-hard-facts approach to her reporting make Leo question if she lacks empathy. Also, Etta fends off a rival reporter desperate to out-scoop her.

Goshorn sets her inspirational romance against the backdrop of the Grover Shoe Factory disaster, which killed dozens after the four-story building collapsed and caught fire after a boiler explosion. She transforms this little-known historical incident into a riveting human drama, successfully animating a large cast and illustrating many moments—taken from primary source accounts—of heroic rescue and inescapable tragedy.

Etta and Leo are both caring people whose personalities complement each other, and their journey back to one another is realistically complex (if a bit overlong) as they rely on their Christian faith while working their way out of a big misunderstanding.

Boston and Brockton are 25 miles apart, so it’s unclear why their social circles overlap so much, or how Etta juggles her multiple roles while traveling back and forth. But in all, this is a well-crafted novel, with a hopeful bent, which underscores the importance of industrial safety regulations.

The Grover Shoe Factory, Brockton, before the 1905 explosion
(Public domain/Wikimedia Commons)

Barbour published The Undercover Heiress of Brockton in August, and I reviewed it for August's Historical Novels Review.  Having lived and worked in southeastern Massachusetts, just south of Brockton, for six and a half years, I was excited when I read about the setting.  The Brockton Enterprise had been one of my local newspapers.  I'd never come across mention of the Grover Shoe Factory tragedy before, and the novel certainly puts you right there. It's part of a six-book inspirational romance series called Enduring Hope, each focusing on a different set of historical events.

Historical fiction preview for winter 2026

Looking ahead to the upcoming season, here are a dozen historical novels that caught my attention.

The award-winning Indian author's second novel covers themes of exploration, colonialism, and unexpected human connection in the story of three travelers seeing entry into Tibet in the mid-19th century, a time when it was closed to Europeans.  Random House, January 2026.

Three women travel from Chicago to Jamaica as part of dancer, choreographer, and anthropologist Katherine Dunham's visit to study the country's dances.  As in her previous historical novels (I've read three), Bryce illuminates episodes from history that deserve more attention. Kensington, February 2026.

Enticingly subtitled "a gothic novel of Old Shanghai," Chang's latest novel is set in Shanghai in 1911 and centers on two young women with secrets, one Chinese and one American, brought together in an ornate mansion with its own shadowy past.  William Morrow, February 2026.

Chaput writes historical fiction about badass women.  Her latest is a dual-timeline novel about an art historian in contemporary times and a female courtesan in 17th-century Venice who crafted illicit erotic art.  She Writes, February 2026.

The dark power of witchcraft meets the story of the Filles du Roi, young women sent to New France to become settlers' brides, in this debut novel set in 1670s Quebec, and written by a CBC Radio producer.  Simon & Schuster, January 2026.

A young woman in 1940s North Carolina finds herself trapped in an institution after being reported for supposed promiscuity, and finds she's hardly alone in her captivity there. A timely novel about the unjust repression of women, from a prolific author of Southern fiction (including The Saints of Swallow Hill).  Kensington, January 2026.

A British children's author's first work of adult historical fiction, When We Were Divided takes place in northern England, where two sisters find themselves on opposite sides during the English Civil War in the 1640s. Fox & Ink (UK), February 2026.

From a former BBC exec who's written both historical nonfiction (A Royal Experiment) and Austen-themed fiction (The Other Bennet Sister) comes a new novel based on historical figures: Lady Harriet Bessborough, sister of the scandal-prone Duchess of Devonshire, and her own scandalous affair with a younger nobleman. US release from Henry Holt, Jan. 2026.  In the UK, Mantle published it in August 2025.  

Johnson's third historical novel takes place in the aftermath of WWII, revolving around the abandoned children of African American GIs and local German women, and those who sought to help them. 37 Ink/Simon & Schuster, February 2026.

Award-winning Australian author Rose's new novel, her first to be published in the US for some time, involves family secrets, champagne, the French Revolution's aftermath, and a young woman's daring voyage to the other side of the world in the 1830s. It makes me curious how they all connect. Summit/Simon & Schuster, January 2026.

For fans of royal fiction, a pulled-from-history story you may not know. It evokes the time when countess Jacquette Gyldenstolpe fell in love with the heir to the Swedish throne, as well as the fallout from their romance.  She Writes. January 2026.

Unexpected love in unexpected places, as two young women--one on the run from her past, another a Jamaican orphan in a foreign land--fall in love while trying to survive the harsh circumstances of late 18th-century Nova Scotia.  Berkley, February 2026.