Cristina Sanders Blog

Ripiro Beach–book review

Ripiro Beach, by Caroline Barron

There is so much to enjoy in this book. I felt immediately I was in good hands, with a writer who had the confidence to take her time describing scenes to bring me into her space and letting me settle into the surroundings before moving on to the action. We could be in a park by an Auckland motorway, in a nightclub, or at Ripiro beach, and each scene is painted with a keen sense of observational detail. Here’s a paragraph that really is worth reading twice, just for the pleasure of the writing:

Home Truths – book review

Home Truths, by Charity Norman

Home Truths is everything I expect from a Charity Norman thriller. It’s compelling and chilling. Also, and this is the frightening thing about many of Charity’s stories, it’s very close to home. It could happen to any of my friends. It could happen to me. And yes, it could happen to you.

Turning History into Fiction

Talking in Ōkiwi Bay

It was a real honour to be invited to speak at the Eastbourne Historical Society’s 2024 AGM, held yesterday. This is a very active society full of researchers, historians and writers whose lives revolve around the eastern bays of Port Nicholson, and yes, I felt a decided frisson in the meeting being held on the edge of what was Ōkiwi Bay, the stomping ground of my man, Ōkiwi Brown, himself. Or their man Ōkiwi Brown, I should say. They were a delightful audience, many bought a copy of my book and I do hope they jump right into the text and start arguing with it. I’ve already had one great lead to follow up – ‘who shot Burke’s wife?’ was a question from the floor I couldn’t answer (love those) but has me buzzing now. I’ve posted a transcript of the talk, here: Turning History into Fiction.

The Bookshop Dectectives, Dead Girl Gone – Book Review

The bookshop Detectives, Dead Girl Gone, by Gareth and Louise Ward

A disclosure before I write this review. I know these guys. They are good friends and their bookshop is my local. I love the shop, I love the staff, and I love them. They are terrifically supportive of local writers. That makes writing an honest review of The Bookshop Detectives either very difficult or absolutely lovely and, (well, you can guess what is coming as I don’t review books I don’t like) this is one hundred percent the latter. It’s terrific.

Corkscrew You – book review

Corkscrew You, by Catherine Robertson

OK, enough of the serious stuff – fancy something feel-good, easy to read and quite a bit saucy? Catherine Robertson has just launched two vineyard romances, the first in the Flora Valley series, and they are exactly what romances should be. Smoking hot (4 chillies, my friends), all the sex is consensual and, frankly, glorious. The characters are well rounded but as hand-picked as a 1980s pop band – there is the bubbly one, the smart one, the cool executive type, the strong silent one, sporty, ginger – you get the picture. They all bring different things to the party.

Western Lane – book review

Western Lane, by Chetna Maroo

When Gopi’s mother dies our girl is eleven, her two sisters thirteen and fifteen. Pa does his best to bring them up alone, within the London Gujarati community, sure, but with an independent spirit. He’s keen on squash, and has taught his girls to play, but this now becomes obsessional. The dominating Aunt Ranjan suggests that girls need exercise and discipline and he takes this literally; his need to keep control of their adolescence is manifested on the squash court.

The Ministry of Time – book review

The Ministry of Time, by Kaliane Bradley

Yes, it’s only June, but The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley gets my book of the year so far. It’ll be a hard one to beat. Great premise, excellent characters and the hottest sex I’ve read in years. The chap in question has been dragged out of 1845 into the near future, complete with fabulous side-whiskers, a cheeky dimple, and Victorian social attitudes. Our narrator likes his nose. He had a kind of resplendent excess of feature that made him look hyperreal. She is to be his bridge.

Ōkiwi Brown

Ōkiwi Brown, by Cristina Sanders

*Currently on the Longlist for the Ngaio Awards!*
The Burke and Hare anatomy murders terrified Edinburgh in the 1830s – innocents smothered and packed fresh for the anatomist’s knife. Burke was publicly hanged before a crowd of thousands. William Hare, after turning king’s evidence against his erstwhile partner, was released. Somewhere south of Dumfries near the small river port of Annan, he was set down from a cart and told to walk on to England and never return. There, he disappears from history.

The Girl From London – book review

The Girl From London, by Olivia Spooner

I started this on a Tuesday night and ended up crying in a café on Thursday morning. I can’t remember when I’ve been so moved by the ending of a story. There is a book within the book. When the former ended a bit too neatly I was a slightly disbelieving, until I realised that actually, well, I’m giving no spoilers, but it’s a war story, after all. I’m not usually known for my tears.

The whole story ties in well with my current interest in stories of those who immigrated to New Zealand down the years, and why they came. Children evacuees from London bombings? I had no idea. Can you imagine sending your children out of a bomb zone, and not to the close countryside, which would be wrenching enough, but through a war-infested sea to an unknown land at the far ends of the earth? And yet people did.

Love In The Time of Cholera–book review

Love in the time of cholera, by Gabreil Garcia Marquez

Love in the time of Cholera is different to every other book I read and for that, alone, I am glad to have read it. Set across decades around the turn of the 20th Century, amid the plagues, wars and the environmental catastrophes of Caribbean Columbia, the story is of lives full of lusty passion. The thing is, I originally read this book in 1985 when it first came out and I was young and naive. Times have changed and I have changed and in the post ‘me too’ environment ‘Love in the time of Cholera’ feels like a misnomer. ‘Dysfunctional sexual obsession in the time of Cholera’ is more accurate, though not so catchy a title.

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