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anna3101's review against another edition
4.0
Lovely book with lovely characters, a little bit of fantasy, a little bit of mystery, some Romeo&Juliet love story, all tied together in a pleasant read. Consume with a cup of hot chocolate for additional pleasure. Mmmm.
knittyreader's review against another edition
4.0
I received a free copy through Netgalley in return for an honest review.
'The Chocolatier's Wife' is not only about action, it is about interaction, and how people get to know each other in such a way that they are determined to love - or not. I must admit that there were points in the story where I'd have liked slightly more action, but in the end that might have lessened the underlying message in it: things do not have to be all action and fireworks to be good.
I was quickly taken by the atmosphere of the book. To me at this point it had the perfect combination of fantasy, romance and detective. Through the short letters at the start of each chapter, as a reader I learned more about the characters and how their relationship developed in a not too heavy and telling way.
'The Chocolatier's Wife' is not only about action, it is about interaction, and how people get to know each other in such a way that they are determined to love - or not. I must admit that there were points in the story where I'd have liked slightly more action, but in the end that might have lessened the underlying message in it: things do not have to be all action and fireworks to be good.
I was quickly taken by the atmosphere of the book. To me at this point it had the perfect combination of fantasy, romance and detective. Through the short letters at the start of each chapter, as a reader I learned more about the characters and how their relationship developed in a not too heavy and telling way.
thejigglerreads's review
adventurous
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
tracey_stewart's review against another edition
4.0
4 and a half stars, I think - really lovely.
.................................................
I received this book through LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program, so huge thanks to LT and the author.
In the world where The Chocolatier's Wife is set, marriage is not left up to chance: every newborn is brought to a Wise Woman, who casts a spell to find out who that child's destined spouse is to be. This doesn't guarantee Twoo Wuv; it also doesn't guarantee happiness. In fact, I think I need to go back and read that bit again to see if it guarantees anything. Regardless, it's considered binding; it just isn't done to marry someone other than the person who shows up when that spell is cast.
When small William of Almsley is brought for the spell … nothing happens. Not to worry, his mother is told; his wife-to-be hasn't been born yet. It's when this sequence is repeated year after year that everyone does begin to worry… And when I settled in happily, pretty sure I was going to enjoy this book: "This did not mean, as years passed, that the boy was special. It meant that he would be impossible to live with." Heh.
William's not impossible, though; stubborn, yes, and not Speshul, but not impossible. He's rather sweet, as is revealed through his reaction to the eventual discovery that his intended is from - *gasp* - the barbaric North. Everyone knows how wild and bizarre those people are – they use magic, and probably eat their dead, and oh dear, couldn't you try the spell again?
Meanwhile, a good ways North in Tarnia, the parents of a baby girl named Tasmin are having much the same reaction as the same spell is cast for their daughter: Not - *gasp* - the barbaric South! Why, everyone knows how uncivilized and bizarre those people are – they have hardly any magic at all, and they probably eat their dead, and … oh dear.
William, however, is sanguine about the whole thing, and starts off by writing to his wife-to-be right away (even though she won't be able to read it for a while). And this begins a correspondence (one-sided until Tasmin is able to respond) that lasts some twenty-four years as William grows into his place as the eldest son of a well-to-merchant, eventually captaining a ship of his own through pirate-filled waters, and then – to the bafflement and indignation of his family, gives over his place in his father's company to his younger brother Andrew in order to open a shop selling chocolates ("I've never liked anything half so well as I like chocolate." – See? He's not impossible! He's wonderful). Meanwhile, in the North, Tasmin grows into her abilities as an Herb Mistress – and waits for William to send for her.
Which he doesn't. Years pass after she comes of age, and their letters continue back and forth, often accompanying gifts both large and small, but he doesn't call for her to come and marry. And then suddenly gossip reaches her family that – lucky girl! You're off the hook! Your barbarian intended is sure to be hanged for murder, so – such good fortune! – now you never have to go into the wilds and marry one of them!
Far from the relief of her parents, Tasmin's reaction is to pack a couple of bags and enlist the aid of the tribe of air sprites who have adopted her to whisk her southward. The William she has come to know from his letters can't be a murderer – and she plans on proving it.
There were some minor typos (I remember "gigging" instead of "giggling" (which I kind of liked), and a minor amount of punctuation abuse), but all in all far better than most Kindle books I seem to be reading lately. The writing is just this side of lyrical, with a sense of humor underlying it that reminded me – yes, it did: it reminded me of Robin McKinley. If you take a look at the ratings I've given Ms. McKinley's books, you'll see that this is high praise indeed.
Cindy Lynn Speer was able to make characters unpleasant and unlikable without turning them into cardboard cutouts or one-note things constructed of a few ugly tics and nasty characteristics strung together. William's mother, for example, is thoroughly un-live-with-able, but there's something behind it, a love for her family and reasons for her crankiness ("still, that don't make it right") which rounds out her character and gives her weight and depth in the narrative. The Bad Guy of the story could easily have been two-dimensional, but is neatly saved by clever writing. On the flip side, Tasmin isn't perfect, and nor is William, and the doubts and pettinesses and impatient moments and so on make them more three-dimensional as well, and I was very fond of both of them.
Ms. Speer is also very good at keeping things from her readers. It's a skill, that, or an art; it takes a fine touch to reveal a little bit of something, pique a reader's interest, and then evade the topic for a while without ticking the reader off – and then do it again a couple more times before paying off the built-up suspense. That happens here: there's a reason William gave up the sea besides a deep and abiding love for chocolate, and it's not told until William is good and ready to explain it to Tasmin.
And that takes a little while, because (skip this part if you want to remain utterly spoiler-free, because this might impact your enjoyment of their relationship, and I don't want to do that >>>) …
… these two don't succumb to Insta-Love. I love the way their relationship is handled. They have been writing back and forth for years now, and may – may, mind you – have fallen in love through the correspondence. If so, neither is about to admit it, being as nobody's ever confessed to loving the other, and so neither is really sure how the other feels. Also, Tasmin is at least a little injured by the fact that it's taken so many years for William to send for her, and while she admits even to herself that she was happy at home doing good work that she loved, still: he could have sent for her when she turned eighteen, and that was a while ago, and it went unacknowledged. And that he made a major life decision without telling her first. He is a little uncertain about how she feels about leaving that good work that she loved – does she really want to give it up to come live an unmagical (or at least less magical) life with him? And then of course the whole circumstance of their finally meeting face to face – through the bars of a jail cell – are … awkward. He says he didn't do it. She says she believes him (and that's why she's there). Does she? He says she can consider herself released from their contracted betrothal, and go home and fulfill her potential free of the shame of being attached to an accused murderer… She says she'll do no such thing. But why? I was so happy with the landmine these two had to negotiate before they came anywhere near a happily-ever-at-all.
And here's something I haven't said much lately: I like the cover very much.
.................................................
I received this book through LibraryThing's Early Reviewer program, so huge thanks to LT and the author.
In the world where The Chocolatier's Wife is set, marriage is not left up to chance: every newborn is brought to a Wise Woman, who casts a spell to find out who that child's destined spouse is to be. This doesn't guarantee Twoo Wuv; it also doesn't guarantee happiness. In fact, I think I need to go back and read that bit again to see if it guarantees anything. Regardless, it's considered binding; it just isn't done to marry someone other than the person who shows up when that spell is cast.
When small William of Almsley is brought for the spell … nothing happens. Not to worry, his mother is told; his wife-to-be hasn't been born yet. It's when this sequence is repeated year after year that everyone does begin to worry… And when I settled in happily, pretty sure I was going to enjoy this book: "This did not mean, as years passed, that the boy was special. It meant that he would be impossible to live with." Heh.
William's not impossible, though; stubborn, yes, and not Speshul, but not impossible. He's rather sweet, as is revealed through his reaction to the eventual discovery that his intended is from - *gasp* - the barbaric North. Everyone knows how wild and bizarre those people are – they use magic, and probably eat their dead, and oh dear, couldn't you try the spell again?
Meanwhile, a good ways North in Tarnia, the parents of a baby girl named Tasmin are having much the same reaction as the same spell is cast for their daughter: Not - *gasp* - the barbaric South! Why, everyone knows how uncivilized and bizarre those people are – they have hardly any magic at all, and they probably eat their dead, and … oh dear.
William, however, is sanguine about the whole thing, and starts off by writing to his wife-to-be right away (even though she won't be able to read it for a while). And this begins a correspondence (one-sided until Tasmin is able to respond) that lasts some twenty-four years as William grows into his place as the eldest son of a well-to-merchant, eventually captaining a ship of his own through pirate-filled waters, and then – to the bafflement and indignation of his family, gives over his place in his father's company to his younger brother Andrew in order to open a shop selling chocolates ("I've never liked anything half so well as I like chocolate." – See? He's not impossible! He's wonderful). Meanwhile, in the North, Tasmin grows into her abilities as an Herb Mistress – and waits for William to send for her.
Which he doesn't. Years pass after she comes of age, and their letters continue back and forth, often accompanying gifts both large and small, but he doesn't call for her to come and marry. And then suddenly gossip reaches her family that – lucky girl! You're off the hook! Your barbarian intended is sure to be hanged for murder, so – such good fortune! – now you never have to go into the wilds and marry one of them!
Far from the relief of her parents, Tasmin's reaction is to pack a couple of bags and enlist the aid of the tribe of air sprites who have adopted her to whisk her southward. The William she has come to know from his letters can't be a murderer – and she plans on proving it.
There were some minor typos (I remember "gigging" instead of "giggling" (which I kind of liked), and a minor amount of punctuation abuse), but all in all far better than most Kindle books I seem to be reading lately. The writing is just this side of lyrical, with a sense of humor underlying it that reminded me – yes, it did: it reminded me of Robin McKinley. If you take a look at the ratings I've given Ms. McKinley's books, you'll see that this is high praise indeed.
Cindy Lynn Speer was able to make characters unpleasant and unlikable without turning them into cardboard cutouts or one-note things constructed of a few ugly tics and nasty characteristics strung together. William's mother, for example, is thoroughly un-live-with-able, but there's something behind it, a love for her family and reasons for her crankiness ("still, that don't make it right") which rounds out her character and gives her weight and depth in the narrative. The Bad Guy of the story could easily have been two-dimensional, but is neatly saved by clever writing. On the flip side, Tasmin isn't perfect, and nor is William, and the doubts and pettinesses and impatient moments and so on make them more three-dimensional as well, and I was very fond of both of them.
Ms. Speer is also very good at keeping things from her readers. It's a skill, that, or an art; it takes a fine touch to reveal a little bit of something, pique a reader's interest, and then evade the topic for a while without ticking the reader off – and then do it again a couple more times before paying off the built-up suspense. That happens here: there's a reason William gave up the sea besides a deep and abiding love for chocolate, and it's not told until William is good and ready to explain it to Tasmin.
And that takes a little while, because (skip this part if you want to remain utterly spoiler-free, because this might impact your enjoyment of their relationship, and I don't want to do that >>>) …
… these two don't succumb to Insta-Love. I love the way their relationship is handled. They have been writing back and forth for years now, and may – may, mind you – have fallen in love through the correspondence. If so, neither is about to admit it, being as nobody's ever confessed to loving the other, and so neither is really sure how the other feels. Also, Tasmin is at least a little injured by the fact that it's taken so many years for William to send for her, and while she admits even to herself that she was happy at home doing good work that she loved, still: he could have sent for her when she turned eighteen, and that was a while ago, and it went unacknowledged. And that he made a major life decision without telling her first. He is a little uncertain about how she feels about leaving that good work that she loved – does she really want to give it up to come live an unmagical (or at least less magical) life with him? And then of course the whole circumstance of their finally meeting face to face – through the bars of a jail cell – are … awkward. He says he didn't do it. She says she believes him (and that's why she's there). Does she? He says she can consider herself released from their contracted betrothal, and go home and fulfill her potential free of the shame of being attached to an accused murderer… She says she'll do no such thing. But why? I was so happy with the landmine these two had to negotiate before they came anywhere near a happily-ever-at-all.
And here's something I haven't said much lately: I like the cover very much.
reasonpassion's review against another edition
3.0
Intrigue, magic, relationship growth and pre-marriage squabbling. Add in an interesting magic spell that tells people who their marriage partner is going to be at birth and you've got a story that won't exactly blow your socks off but at least keeps you wanting to know how it ends. The plot is complicated but not overly so, the characters are often cookie-cutter in order to further the journey of the central relationship and the magic is fun. If you're looking for a quick release this is it.
rlse's review against another edition
4.0
So one time a mystery plot had affair with a naval high seas adventure and the offspring was raised by a rom/com plot trained in epistolary style. The characters played counter to trope while the fantasy setting faded into the background to become some kind of historical magical realism. If you like at least two of the aforementioned genres, you may enjoy this extremely unique mash-up. (Just don’t trip over the kitchen sink). Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to read the sequel.
bleucaldwell's review against another edition
4.0
I got this as a Kindle deal (free or .99, I can't remember) and I didn't really expect much, but I enjoyed it. It was light fantasy with some mystery and a little bit of romance and it made for a fun read.
gargoyle_girl's review against another edition
4.0
This book reminded me of the movies Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility and Emma. It is written in the ways of the time period (late 1700's - early 1800's), there is no cursing, no raciness just a good mystery and a sweet romance. I couldn't really tell you why I enjoyed it so much other then how refreshing it was to have a page turner that yet meandered along and picked away at solving the mystery. I loved it.
eurydiceh's review against another edition
4.0
I loved it, front to back, beginning to end. I love that it wasn’t nearly as clean as I expected it to be. These relationships were quite messy, and some of the reveals were really and truly surprising.
melissa_clark78's review against another edition
3.0
I was in the mood for a light, easy, stand alone book, and this fit the bill.
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