​
​The sub-title of this book - “The true story of the swashbuckling Australian rogue”- might easily apply to the actor, Errol Flynn, but this is, in fact, the story of Errol’s best mate, Freddie McEvoy, who was cut from the same cloth in more ways than one.

Like Errol, he just happened to be born in Australia but made his impact elsewhere in sporting achievements, dubious enterprises that included gambling, smuggling and spying (either for the Allies or the Nazis, take your pick) but with the same insatiable pursuit of sex as Errol. Rather than favouring underage girls, as did his friend, Freddie sought out women of any age who either already had a fortune or would inherit one. Seems his charm was such that few women could, or even wanted to, escape his clutches.

Born in Melbourne in 1907, he was spirited off to Europe by his mother at the age of six and raised to appreciate high society and the finer things in life, rather than working for a living. He first came to public attention – in Europe at least – when he won a medal for the British in the bobsled in the 1936 Winter Olympics. He also was an early racing-car champion. Always short of a buck, he inveigled his way into the smart 1930s Riviera and Hollywood sets, married several times but died a mysterious death off the coast of Morocco in 1951 that generated much newspaper coverage and, not least, a ludicrous decade-long bureaucratic stoush between the British and Australian governments over the piddling cost of his burial in Casablanca. While Freddie’s hedonistic and outrageous life could make a great TV series, the bizarre burial tale has all the ingredients for a black comedic re-telling of its own.

Errol Flynn’s shenanigans are well-known; Freddie’s less so. While the research appears thorough, when it comes to celebrities who live life larger than we lesser mortals, there are always going to be grey areas as to what is truth and what is sensationalist muckraking fiction, even if some of it comes from official files or seemingly impeccable intelligence. (Charles Higham’s biography of Errol Flynn is notorious for this.)

There is much repetition and exposition on Freddie’s dalliances and dodgy dealings that begin to verge on the tiresome. Some of the historical background is more interesting, especially his suspected connections to the Nazis and Vichy French Government that warranted his constant surveillance by J. Edgar Hoover of the FBI.

The images in the book are few and of poor quality and it is puzzling why there are not more clearer glossies of his wives, famous friends, and associates.

Although allegedly a roguish charmer who did no real harm, Freddie is not a person one can warm to. He was always out for the main chance, used people like cigarettes, enjoyed for the moment then discarded. His uncaring attitude towards his only daughter is particularly unsavoury. Like Errol Flynn, Freddie McEvoy reflects a certain type of man and the age in which he lived and would no longer fit so easily into the scrutiny of our modern world.

Three stars

amazon.com

amazon.co.uk

Booktopia (Australia)

This is the first book in a continuing series that the author has been releasing progressively since 2014 that will be best read in sequence.

Maia is the eldest of six adopted, unrelated sisters (the seventh a mystery) of a billionaire called Pa Salt who raised them on a private Swiss estate. When he dies, each sister is given messages with clues as to their origins. Maia is the first to undertake such an investigation. This takes her to a crumbling mansion in Rio de Janeiro. With the help Floriano, a local author, she begins to untangle her family history.

Split between contemporary narrative and events in the late 1920s, this is a whopper of nearly 650 pages and requires some commitment to see it through to the end with its inevitable peaks and troughs. There are overwritten passages that could have been pruned by at least a third without losing anything. As is always the case with two narrative strands, the reader is likely to favour one over the other.

The thwarted romantic life of Maia’s great-grandmother Izabela and the sculptor Laurent in Paris and Rio has its fair share of drama and tear-jerking moments. The descriptions of culture and society in Brazil during this era add extra colour.  Also, of specific historical interest is the story of the design process and construction of the famous Christ the Redeemer statue.

The main reason behind Maia’s reclusive, reserved character is revealed by the conclusion, but there are several loose ends regarding her birth parents and another individual important to her that may be tied up in subsequent instalments of this epic series. Clearly, once hooked, one is compelled to keep reading the books in sequence to find out more.
 
Three-and-a-half stars

 
Amazon.com (audio)

Amazon.co.uk (Kindle)
​
Booktopia

 
As war clouds gather over Europe, Gertie Bingham is struggling in running her bookshop without the help of her late husband, Harry. She is on the verge of selling up when a good friend asks if she would consider taking in one of the Jewish child refugees fleeing from Germany.

She has never had a child of her own and is at first reluctant to help but relents and accepts the teenaged Hedy, who also has emotional struggles having been separated from her parents and brother. Initially, their relationship is prickly but as time passes and Britain is drawn into war, they manage to resolve their issues.

The community rally around Gertie as she starts a book club in the air raid shelter. Frosty individuals thaw, some even find romance, and when Gertie is faced with more losses and trials, she knows she has the support of her many loyal customers who are now firm friends.

I must admit I came to this novel with some uncertainty, being yet another title in the seemingly unending trend for World War II fiction (with the obligatory cover image of a faceless woman looking at planes) and combined with that other sub-genre in danger of being overcooked, i.e. the “book club”. However, with its easy narrative and cast of old-fashioned, good-intentioned characters who are filled with optimism in spite of the trials affecting all of them, I shook off my doubts and rather enjoyed what is a comforting ride.

If you’re in the mood for a romantic novel that is uplifting, relays positivity and generosity of the human spirit in hard times, then this is it.

(With thanks to Good Reading magazine for the free copy.)
 
Four stars


Amazon.com (different cover)

Amazon.co.uk (Kindle)
​
Big W (Australia)

​Shortly after diamond magnate, Wilhelm de Vries, dies, Mrs King is dismissed from her post as his housekeeper and decides to extract her revenge by planning a heist, removing all valuables from his mansion during a costume ball being planned by Wilhelm’s daughter, Miss de Vries.

To help in her plans, Mrs King calls upon other women who also once worked in the house and are now involved in various shady enterprises of their own. The plan requires a cast of what seems like hundreds of men and other women.

Initially, the novel is quite refreshing with its rapid and unvarnished narrative that has just the right amount of Edwardian background for flavour without going into florid exposition (although it does slip up with a few anachronisms).
​  
Alas, in spite of some humorous passages, this style ultimately suffers as it fails to give more depth to the characters which is vital in holding a reader’s attention for almost 400 pages. It takes just too long to get to the actual heist with its overloaded implausibility and off-kilter switches and twists, including a needless incestuous lesbian encounter, and a dispiriting sub-plot on sexual exploitation.

Apart from the inventive and amusing duo of the drab “Janes” who do much of the hard physical work and the flamboyant actress, Hephzipah Goodcourt, the other female gang leaders – Winnie, Mrs Bone and Mrs King – are fashioned from the same mould into a blur of middle-aged (even though they may not be) housekeepers. The males are nondescript and include a handsome footman, a lacklustre prospective aristocratic bridegroom, a dodgy lawyer and a “weasly-looking” boy who is some kind of spy. The way the imperious heiress, Miss de Vries, is written, I had to keep reminding myself “Madam” wasn’t some withered Miss Havisham type but was in her early twenties!

You can’t complain about plot holes in a parody novel like this, although a little more explanation wouldn’t go amiss. How the Housekeepers had sufficient clout in the tough masculine underworld and other vast resources at their disposal to carry out the practical side of the heist is never properly delineated; let alone how was it even possible that they could trust everyone in their massive gang of dubious individuals, that at least one of them wouldn’t squeal. I kept asking myself why isn’t there an appearance of some canny Scotland Yard detective who has had a whiff of the goings-on from a snitch? A lost opportunity for more mayhem!

In summary, although fun in parts, this ambitious far-fetched tale could have been saved by solely concentrating on its lighter side with more whimsy or wit. It’s a book that may well be adapted into a great TV or film script with the input of other creative individuals. Hence, three-plus stars for what is a cracking good idea, but borderline two stars for the way it has been told.

 
Amazon.com (Kindle)

Amazon.co.uk (Kindle)

Big W Australia (paperback)