The Red Queen by Philippa Gregory

The Red Queen My Rating: 4.3

Margaret Beaufort never surrenders her belief that her Lancaster house is the true ruler of England, and that she has a great destiny before her. Married to a man twice her age, quickly widowed, and a mother at only fourteen, Margaret is determined to turn her lonely life into a triumph. 

She sets her heart on putting her son on the throne of England regardless of the cost to herself, to England, and even to the little boy. Disregarding rival heirs and the overwhelming power of the York dynasty, she names him Henry, like the king; sends him into exile; and pledges him in marriage to her enemy Elizabeth of York’s daughter. As the political tides constantly move and shift, Margaret masterminds one of the greatest rebellions of all time—all the while knowing that her son has grown to manhood, recruited an army, and awaits his opportunity to win the greatest prize in all of England.

As with all of Philippa Gregory’s novels, The Red Queen is an engaging and immersive read, offering a fascinating portrayal of 16th-century English royal history within a believable and well-paced plot. Gregory’s writing is excellent—rich, descriptive, and evocative—and she has a remarkable talent for bringing historical events and figures to life.

That said, I found the characters more of a struggle, particularly Margaret Beaufort. She is portrayed as deeply pious yet self-righteous, and I found her quite unlikeable. It was difficult to believe that her mother never prepared her for her future role, making her shock at being married seem implausible. Although Margaret endured a challenging life, she never seemed to mature emotionally or spiritually. She constantly claimed to act out of godliness, yet her actions were clearly driven by personal ambition and self-interest. While I understand that the politics of the time created shrewd, calculating, and manipulative individuals, her constant insistence on “hearing God’s voice”—which, as her husband insightfully pointed out, was really her own desire—became tiresome.

Despite my frustration with her character, I still found the story compelling. Having read The White Queen, it was fascinating to revisit the same historical period from the Lancastrian perspective. Gregory excels at showing how power, faith, and ambition intertwine, and how women—despite the strict confines of their roles—wielded influence in subtle yet significant ways.

Overall, The Red Queen is a well-written and thought-provoking historical novel. While Margaret Beaufort may not inspire much sympathy, her story adds a valuable and contrasting dimension to Gregory’s Cousins’ War series, reminding readers that history is rarely black and white—but rather, painted in shades of ambition, devotion, and human complexity.

The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart by Holly Ringland

My Rating: 2.5

After her family suffers a tragedy, nine-year-old Alice Hart is forced to leave her idyllic seaside home. She is taken in by her grandmother, June, a flower farmer who raises Alice on the language of Australian native flowers, a way to say the things that are too hard to speak.

Under the watchful eye of June and the women who run the farm, Alice settles, but grows up increasingly frustrated by how little she knows of her family’s story. In her early twenties, Alice’s life is thrown into upheaval again when she suffers devastating betrayal and loss. Desperate to outrun grief, Alice flees to the dramatically beautiful central Australian desert. In this otherworldly landscape Alice thinks she has found solace, until she meets a charismatic and ultimately dangerous man.

I seem to be in the minority here, but I didn’t love this book. In fact, I didn’t even like it. None of the characters were particularly likable or easy to connect with. The ongoing, never-ending battles they faced — which were clearly meant to evoke sympathy — just left me feeling frustrated and detached. Their struggles never seemed to end, partly because of their own inane choices.

I was honestly shocked to learn that this story has been made into a movie. I suppose that’s one small mercy — at least all the pain and heaviness could be condensed into a couple of hours instead of the long, drawn-out process of reading the 400 page book.

The only thing I mildly enjoyed was the depiction of the Australian landscape. It was vivid and atmospheric, but sadly, not enough to redeem the overall reading experience.

In short, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart just wasn’t for me. If you’re drawn to dark, tragic family sagas, you might find something meaningful here — but for me, it was simply too heavy, too bleak, and too long.

 

The Revenant by Michael Punke

 My Rating: 4.6

Set in 1823, The Revenant follows the trappers of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company as they endure the brutal realities of frontier life. Among them is Hugh Glass — a seasoned frontiersman and expert tracker. When Glass is viciously mauled by a grizzly bear, he’s left on the brink of death. Two men are assigned to stay behind and tend to him, but when they abandon him instead, Glass is forced to summon an unimaginable will to survive. Driven by sheer determination — and the desire for revenge — he crawls across hundreds of miles of uncharted wilderness.

Based on a true story, this is a raw and incredibly descriptive novel. The grizzly attack scene was so intense and graphic that I honestly questioned whether I could keep going. I’m glad I did. The story that followed was one of remarkable endurance, courage, and unrelenting grit. Hugh Glass’s strength and perseverance were astounding, and the author’s vivid writing brought the harsh realities of early frontier life to life — from encounters with Native tribes to the perils of travel through unforgiving wilderness.

I regret not listening to this one with my husband, Mark — I think he would have really enjoyed it. The Revenant would be an especially great read (or listen) for anyone interested in early American history, survival stories, or rugged adventure tales — particularly men who appreciate a story of endurance and revenge set against the raw beauty and danger of the untamed frontier.

The Exiles by Christina Baker Kline

 My Rating: 3.8

Set in early 1900s London, The Exiles tells the harrowing story of Evangeline, a young and naïve governess whose life takes a tragic turn after she is seduced by her employer’s son. When her pregnancy is discovered, she is dismissed and sent to the infamous Newgate Prison. From there, she is sentenced to “the land beyond the seas” — Van Diemen’s Land, a penal colony in Australia.

On the long and grueling voyage aboard the Medea, Evangeline meets Hazel, a spirited young woman convicted for stealing a silver spoon. Despite their differences, the two form an unlikely bond. Hazel’s knowledge as a midwife and herbalist becomes a lifeline for many aboard the ship, offering glimmers of humanity amid cruelty and despair.

This was a raw and difficult read, filled with heartbreak and injustice. Christina Baker Kline shines a light on the brutal treatment of women and the inhumane realities of the convict transports — a part of history that’s rarely told. While I appreciated learning about this dark chapter of the past, I found this story emotionally heavier and less moving than The Orphan Train. Still, The Exiles is a powerful reminder of resilience, friendship, and the strength of the human spirit in the face of oppression.

⭐ My Take: Worth reading for the history and humanity — but prepare for a somber journey.

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan

Small Things Like These My Rating: 3.5

It is 1985 in a small Irish town. During the weeks leading up to Christmas, Bill Furlong, a coal merchant and family man faces into his busiest season. Early one morning, while delivering an order to the local convent, Bill makes a discovery which forces him to confront both his past and the complicit silences of a town controlled by the church.

This little book truly packs a punch. Though it seems intended to inspire hope, I found it deeply sad and unsettling. Still, that sadness feels necessary — it shines a light on a painful truth that has too often been hidden. Keegan addresses her subject with grace and restraint, writing with a beauty that makes the heartbreak even more real.

It may be a short read, but it lingers long after you finish, reminding us that even the smallest acts of courage can matter, especially in a world that prefers to look away.

The White Queen by Philippa Gregory

 My Rating: 4.4

Brother turns on brother. The throne of England is at stake. The deadly Wars of the Roses have begun...

Philippa Gregory’s The White Queen takes readers deep into one of the most turbulent and tragic periods in English history. At the heart of it all is Elizabeth Woodville — a commoner whose beauty and ambition lead her to secretly marry the young King Edward IV. What follows is a tale steeped in rivalry, betrayal, and the relentless pursuit of power. Yet, beneath all the crowns and conflicts lies a woman trying to protect her family in a world ruled by men and manipulated by fate.

Gregory, as always, writes with her trademark blend of historical detail and storytelling flair. She pulls back the curtain on the women who moved quietly yet powerfully behind England’s throne — queens, mothers, and daughters who shaped dynasties in the shadows. The disappearance of Elizabeth’s two young sons, the Princes in the Tower, remains one of history’s great unsolved mysteries, and Gregory weaves it through the narrative with chilling tension.

That said, The White Queen didn’t capture my heart in the same way The Lady of the Rivers did. Jacquetta and Richard felt alive — vibrant, human, and magnetic. Here, I struggled to connect with the characters. Perhaps it was the endless web of scheming, the repetition of names (so many Richards, Edwards, and Georges!), or the heavy air of ambition that overshadowed warmth.

It’s surprising this was the installment chosen for a television adaptation. While it certainly has the drama and grandeur for the screen, the emotional depth that made The Lady of the Rivers so special was missing for me.

For now, I’m setting the Plantagenets aside — just a short pause. The endless plotting and palace intrigue can be exhausting, but I know I’ll return. Philippa Gregory has a way of pulling readers back into her world of power, passion, and peril. The next time I visit, I’ll be ready to dive back into the tangled roots of England’s royal past.

The Lady of the Rivers by Philippa Gregory

The Lady of the Rivers My Rating: 4.8

When the young and beautiful Jacquetta is married to the older Duke of Bedford, English regent of France, he introduces her to a mysterious world of learning and alchemy. Her only friend in the great household is the duke’s squire Richard Woodville, who is at her side when the duke’s death leaves her a wealthy young widow. The two become lovers and marry in secret, returning to England to serve at the court of the young King Henry VI, where Jacquetta becomes a close and loyal friend to his new queen.

The Woodvilles soon achieve a place at the very heart of the Lancaster court, though Jacquetta has visions of the growing threat from the people of England and the danger of their royal York rivals. Jacquetta fights for her king and queen, as she sees an extraordinary and unexpected future for her daughter Elizabeth: a change of fortune, the white rose of York, and the throne of England…

This novel begins in the time of Joan of Arc and spans more than thirty years, ending in 1461. Gregory captures the dangerous and intricate world of royal courts, where the political scheming and betrayals make today’s politics seem tame in comparison.

It’s a slow build, but that’s part of the magic—you’re gradually immersed in a world of castles, alliances, and plots. The pacing is perfect, drawing you steadily deeper into the lives and ambitions of its characters. Engaging from start to finish, this is historical fiction at its most absorbing. 

The Ghostwriter by Julia Clark

The Ghostwriter My Rating: 4.6

Olivia is in elementary school when a classmate taunts her with, “your dad is a murderer!” She denies it, but the looks on her classmates’ faces tell her they know something she doesn’t.

Years later, Olivia has built a career as a ghostwriter, quietly shaping other people’s stories. On the brink of financial ruin, she’s offered the most personal project of all—her estranged father Vincent’s final book. But it isn’t another horror novel he wants her to write. After fifty years of silence, Vincent is ready to reveal what really happened that night in 1975.

This was an engaging gripping mystery intertwined with family drama and well developed characters. The pages flew by as everything gradually unfolded. Thoroughly enjoyable and I will read more by this author. 

WARNING: Sensitive material

Dead Man's Walk by Larry McMurtry

Dead Man's Walk My Rating: 4.5

As young Texas Rangers, Augustus McCrae and Woodrow Call ("Gus" and "Call" for short) have much to learn about survival in a land fraught with perils: not only the blazing heat and raging tornadoes, roiling rivers and merciless Indians, but also the deadly whims of soldiers. On their first expeditions—led by incompetent officers and accompanied by the robust, dauntless whore known as the Great Western—they will face death at the hands of the cunning Comanche war chief Buffalo Hump and the silent Apache Gomez. They will be astonished by the Mexican army. And Gus will meet the love of his life.

I absolutely love Larry McMurtry’s storytelling. His ability to pull readers into a time and place, with characters so vivid they feel like old friends, is unmatched. Mark isn’t usually big on fiction, but we decided to listen to this one on audio during our commute. Even he had to admit that McMurtry spins an engaging story that keeps you hooked. That said, Mark also pointed out something worth mentioning: it sometimes felt like one bad thing after another kept happening to Gus and Call. The relentless hardships wore on him a bit, though for me, that’s part of what makes McMurtry’s writing so real—life in that world was often brutal and unforgiving.

Overall, I found Dead Man’s Walk to be another shining example of McMurtry’s gift for storytelling. The mix of humor, tragedy, and unforgettable characters makes it worth the read—or the listen.