Anatomy of Murder by Imogen Robertson

Harriet Westerman and Gabriel Crowther are back again in 1780s England to solve another mystery. This time Harriet’s sea-captain husband is injured and his memory broken. He has information about a spy for the French, but it’s locked in his damaged mind. When a body turns up that might have connections to the spy ring, Harriet and Crowther step in to solve the mystery.
The quote on the back of the review copy I read calls this book, “C.S.I in the Georgian era,” and that isn't too far off the mark. The nuts and bolts of the detective work do follow a kind of C.S.I. pattern. Crowther examines the body while Harriet uses her insights into people to put the evidence together. Working together – the cold, scientific viewpoint paired with the more human details – they managed to get results without DNA or blood tests or even fingerprints.
The problem with that catchy quote is that it ignores how great the characters are and how well-evoked the time period is. Harriet’s struggle to deal with her ailing husband, her disapproving sister, and her love of her children all combine to make her a great leading lady. Crowther’s shell of self-protection is slowly cracking, but in a believable and gradual way. And, just like in the first book, there is a side story involving a tarot-reader and a street urchin that is woven in and out of the main mystery that is completely captivating as well.

The Children's Book by A.S. Byatt

Near the beginning of The Children’s Book there is a magical dinner party and the feeling evoked at that party is the feeling of the entire book. The party takes place in the English countryside where there is a sprawling cottage nestled amidst a garden with a wild wood surrounding it. The light seems to hover at the point of dusk, casting an orange glow through ancient orchard trees. There are children playing in and out of the party, always children running around on adventures. The hostess, the main character, writes faerie stories for children and I had the feeling that faeries, and other creatures of her imagination, might appear at any moment. The guests are intellectuals and artists, political activists and refugees. As the evening continues - the lanterns are lit in the trees, the champagne is poured – some of the guests turn out to be fools and philanderers, some have had too much too drink and are making bad decisions, but the story flits from group to group following the conversations and intrigues, never staying too long or leaving too soon. And when I had to close the pages of The Children’s Book, like the characters when the night is over and they had to go home, I was so sad to see it end.
This is one of my favorite books of the year.

My Swordhand is Singing by Marcus Sedgwick

In a deep forest, in some vague agrarian time period of horse carts and superstition, Peter and his father, Tomas, are woodcutters in a new town. Their simple lives are interrupted both by a series of strange deaths and by a group of gypsies who know something about Tomas’ past.
This slim novel, aimed at Young Adults, is the best vampire book I've read. It’s completely different from those other teen vampire books that are really more about identity, romance, and belonging. This feels like a folk tale that might have been passed around small communities in Central Europe. Based on research and imagination it feels almost like a companion to The Historian. It gave me goose bumps.