Andrea Bramhall is the Alistair Maclean of lesbian romance.
This trilogy (with more to come, I’m sure – no pun intended) needs readers with a hard stomach and a hard head. Ostensibly a series of detective adventures, with the trauma piled on thicker and faster at every turn, its also a romance story at heart. Yes, the cop gets the girl. In the end. Not before getting roughed up by a lot of baddies, blown up by a lot of baddies, putting away a lot of baddies and generally saving the day every day. It’s like a cross between The Bill and Spooks, set in a rural county by the sea. Local Detective Solves Mystery with Typical British Humour and Stoicism. It’s very exciting, and its good. But be warned, it is graphic and it is traumatic. Blood and guts. We go with one of the characters to counselling, because it’s good for us, too. Just when you think its too much, too tense, we are snuck a little reminder that every heroine, no matter how exciting her work life, just wants to come home to a smooch, a girlfriend, a kid and a Christmas tree.
If you’ve got the guts, don’t hesitate.