On a Cold Dark Sea
by Elizabeth Blackwell
On April 15, 1912, three women climbed into Lifeboat 21 and watched in horror as the Titanic sank into the icy depths. They were strangers then…
Con artist Charlotte Digby lied her way through London and onto the Titanic. The disaster could be her chance at a new life—if she hides the truth about her past. Esme Harper, a wealthy American, mourns the end of a passionate affair and fears that everything beautiful is slipping from her grasp. And Anna Halversson, a Swedish farm girl in search of a fresh start in America, is tormented by the screams that ring out from the water. Is one of them calling her name?
Twenty years later, a sudden death brings the three women back together, forcing them to face the impossible choices they made, the inconceivable loss, and the secrets they have kept for far too long.
My Rating:
Favorite Quotes:
…for the rest of his life, the pitiful tableau they formed was the first image that sprang to mind when he thought of the Titanic. The handsome young man in his evening dress, eyes haunted, one hand pressed protectively against his companion’s back. There was a girl hovering nervously behind them—a maid, by her cowed bearing and black dress. And then there was the lady, swathed in a fur coat over a shimmering green gown, a vision of ruined elegance.
Mr. Harper looked as if he hadn’t enjoyed himself since the last century. He offered Esme a wan smile, his cheek muscles straining with the effort.
She’d seen statues with more spirit than Mr. Harper.
Anna had never had new clothes of her own; she had always worn her sisters’ castoffs. Now, she would have a hand-me-down husband. Perhaps that was the best she could hope for.
There is a hypnotic quality to the ship’s leisurely descent. Esme imagines describing the scene to her friends, sometime in the future. The words “tragically magnificent ” come to mind, and she is swept up in the self-important gratification that comes from witnessing history.
…all those men who did their duty and went down with the ship. It sounds like a noble sort of death, but it isn’t: it’s loud and painful and terrifying.
One large picture window downstairs, two smaller windows on top, the sort of stolidly respectable dwelling the poor aspire to and the rich dismiss.
My Review:
I rarely read historical fiction and am undeniably choosy when I do. And I don’t mean to be self-aggrandizing or boastful when say I chose exceedingly well when I picked up this unexpected jewel. I quickly fell into Ms. Blackwell’s well-crafted vortex and effortlessly assimilated into the world of these fascinating and well-drawn characters. I was essentially held captive, willingly that is, as I was enthralled and entranced by Ms. Blackwell’s emotive and powerful word voodoo. Her writing was highly evocative and vividly descriptive, I held strong visuals in my head and could almost feel the damp chill while the characters were in the lifeboat and bobbing in the frigid arctic waters. This was a heart squeezing and thoughtfully written story, this talented scribe has mad skills!
About the Author
As the daughter of a U.S. Foreign Service officer, Elizabeth Blackwell grew up in Washington, D.C., interspersed with stints in Africa, the Middle East and Europe–pretty much always with a book in hand. She majored in history at Northwestern University (hooray! more reading!) and received her master’s in journalism from Columbia University, which led to a career as an editor and writer for a number of publications that have since gone out of business (surely just a coincidence?). She now writes fiction from her home office in the Chicago suburbs, in between wrangling her three children and fighting for a parking spot at the local Target.
It all began when Daws went to Tires Tires Tires to get a new set of wheels on her car. She was suffering from writer’s block, but apparently the complimentary coffee and cookies cured her. So she decided to bring in cars of friends and family so she could keep writing in the magical waiting room.
