"Satisfying 19th century mystery."

Prior to her fame as author of LITTLE WOMEN, Louisa May Alcott amused herself writing dark, lurid tales. Now she finds herself embroiled in a mystery she must solve before becoming the killer's next victim.

Louisa's dear friend Dorothy, newly married and back from her honeymoon abroad, is found floating in the Boston Harbor, a victim of foul play. Initial suspicion is cast upon her husband, a man of weak nature. As Louisa pursues the many clues in search of a killer, she discovers long- buried secrets that could ruin many people, leading her to believe that more than Dot's husband might benefit from her demise.

Maclean has a wonderful grasp of the history, language and style of 19th century Boston. While I felt the story trudged along in spots, there were enough plot twists to keep me entertained until the satisfying conclusion.

Reviewed by Paula Myers
Courtesy Old Book Barn Gazette
Posted March 10, 2004

Read an Excerpt

In this delightful new "tale of dark secrets, mysterious men, and heiresses in distress,"* Louisa May Alcott, the beloved author of Little Women, is cast in the role of amateur sleuth-investigating crimes more heinous than anything she can imagine in her "blood and thunder" romances.

Summary

Gentle Reader,

In the days before I achieved renown as the author of Little Women, I was writing and selling stories of a more lurid nature, inspired by my spellbound fascination with the dark and mysterious. But nothing I could conjure from my own imagination could prepare me for the role of detective I found myself playing time and again...

My family and I shared a frugal home in Boston during the years before the Civil War, a time of hooped skirts and beaver hats. While I railed against my lack of freedom as a woman, my parents set high standards for me, offering warmth and wisdom, and secretly (and illegally!) aiding the Underground Railroad. My sisters provided lighter companionship, as did my many friends, including Dorothy Wortham.

I was looking forward to seeing Dot again after her year- long honeymoon overseas. However, the happy reunion I expected was overshadowed by her distant and distraught behavior. Before she could confide her anxiety in me, her body was discovered floating in Boston Harbor, with evidence of foul play. I could not fathom who would wish to harm such a kind spirit as Dot, but I was determined to search the foggy, cobblestone streets until I found out...

Louisa May Alcott