I’m awfully sorry to be the sender of bad tidings. Some news can only be stated starkly if at all, so I will be blunt: Flossie has passed away due to a sudden and virulent illness. Fear of the disease caused her mortal remains to be cremated rather than prepared for burial. As you are her closest blood relative, I will send her ashes to you in a parcel along with this letter. I am sure you will be deeply grieved as am I, but may memories of your sister comfort you. The next day, Enola’s fifteenth birthday, the three of us had tea and cake together at my flat. From a letter recently received, we now knew why our mother had run away: her days were numbered, she had spent them in freedom from society’s dictates, and she was now deceased. Enola shed a few tears, but her smiles were manifold; her mother was gone, but she had her brothers now. Mycroft had made peace with her, and I had grown to care for her. All was well. In the end, I loved the sass, wit, banter, and everything else in between. This entire book was enjoyable from start to finish and I can't wait for the next one. Maybe I will dive into her entire series this year. Maybe even his. I'd be down for both because I love their movies. I saw the clodhopper boots of common men surrounding me and smelled alcohol on the breath of those leaning over me. I loved this book! Huge thanks to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for an ARC of this latest (#7) in the Enola Holmes series, by Nancy Springer. I am late to the party since this is the first book it the series that I’ve read, but it works as a stand-alone. Book #6 of the series was published over a decade ago! This new book in the series follows the successful screening of the Enola Holmes Netflix film of 2020. (I must live in a cave with no electricity or internet, otherwise I would not have to wait for my sister to tell me what’s on the telly, whenever we discuss a book that I loved).

Flossie simply cannot be gone from this world,” Miss Letitia Glover declares, her eyes wet with emotion. “I would have instantly sensed my loss had she passed away.” El caso despierta la curiosidad de Enola y decide implicarse. Sabe que debe actuar, y rápido, si quiere hallar al doctor Watson a tiempo.

More Mysteries

I am excited to present my first guest review, from my wonderful wife, Kate! Thanks, babe, for your review of this book, the seventh in Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes' series. Gobbled up this fab teen/YA mystery in one sitting! Loved the character in the Netflix movie and was thrilled to get this ARC from St. Martin’s Press and NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinion. I enjoyed the mystery. It wasn’t what so much as where, and it was also a question of how they would ever find the missing sister of their client. The conclusion was a whole lot of fun. Interessant finde ich immer wieder, dass anhand der Kleidung sofort auf den Stand geschlossen werden konnte und man dadurch (wenn man das Geld hatte sie sich zu leisten) zur Täuschung als Lord oder Lady auftreten konnte. Dazu das geltende Wort eines Gentleman, das an sich nie angezweifelt wurde, außer es gab Anlass dazu. Mientras se esconde de su propio hermano, Enola se topa con unos dibujos al carboncillo y siente una conexión inmediata con su autora, Lady Cecily, pero esta ha desaparecido sin dejar rastro. Así que Enola deberá resolver los enigmas que conducen hasta esta dama zurda.

He did not answer. Leaning over to peek at him, I saw that his eyes were closed, the better to ignore me thereby. Ich hatte etwas Sorge, dass die Autorin durch die lange Zeit vielleicht nicht so gut anknüpfen kann, aber das war unbegründet :) The woman states she received a letter saying her sister died suddenly and was cremated. It just seemed suspicious. The husband is a Duke that married below his status. The case is exciting, has suspense, clever, and sprinkled with wit and humor.In 2020 Netflix released an Enola Holmes movie (which I have seen) and in 2022 a second (which I have not). In 2021 Springer rebooted the book series with this novel. I am of course delighted at the resumption of the series, but was also apprehensive that it might have been changed to take after the movie, which is quite different from the books. But I’m glad to have redeemed my mistake. All the previous books are in my TBR now. I may watch the movie, though I’ll read the book first.

Nancy Springer ist sich ihrem Stil treu geblieben und ich hab mit Begeisterung verfolgt, wie die forsche und erwachsen werdende Enola in ihrer forschen Art einen neuen Fall annimmt.Enola reasoned, however, that stealing away a case just might get the brilliant man to rise, shave and dress himself properly. And she was quite correct.

Not entirely.” I tried to smile but grimaced instead. “I’ve had such dark fits myself; I suppose the predisposition runs in the family. To me, the mood seems rooted in spleen, and I think a fine fit of temper, some cleansing anger, might be its best cure. Do you agree?” The next day, from shouted conversation through an ear trumpet, I pieced together that the pitiful, deaf, and ancient Mrs. Tupper had been Enola’s landlady, and with some mental excitement I deduced that Enola might visit her at the Nightingale residence. Thereafter I lurked in wait for her, along with a companion named Reginald. Dozens of people entered the Nightingale home daily, and on the lookout for my plain-faced sister, I paid no attention whatsoever to quite a lovely lady in an elaborate cerulean gown of three fabrics—but Reginald, my sister’s longtime pet collie, whined and pulled at the leash! I let him go bounding to her, and could scarcely believe it when the lady greeted the dog with laughter and tears, most unceremoniously sitting on the ground to hug him! When she saw me looking down at her, she smiled up into my face and willingly took my hand to arise. She sensed, I think, that I no longer looked down on her in any other sense of the phrase. In fact, Enola already has ideas for the part she’ll play and the disguise she’ll use to uncover further clues. Her brilliant brother might indeed be the best and most insightful male detective the world has ever known. But women can be insightful and capable, too.

Bolting to my feet, I instructed the maid, “Tell the gentleman I will be with him directly,” and ran for my room to put on my newest boots—I had been wearing delicate silk slippers fit only for indoors; they would have been shredded on the street—and find a matching, decent pair of gloves, and tidy my impossible hair before topping it with a hat, and snatch up a parasol. A fashionable lady must never be without a parasol, or a fan, or at least a handkerchief, something pretty to carry, and the gentle reader will doubtless have noticed by now that I had become fond of appearing to be a fashionable young woman of society. Then my attention was all seized by the inexplicable disappearance of my dear friend Dr. Watson. For a week I neither ate nor slept, nor did my brother, Mycroft, but we could not find a sign of him. Indeed, it was not we who saved him, but our sister! A message in the newspapers led us straight to poor Watson where he was being held captive in a lunatic asylum, and the message was signed E. H.—Enola Holmes.