The Telling Touch

This book was everything I didn’t know I needed right now. A sweet jewel of a regency that warmed my heart and made me smile.

I absolutely loved the banter between Meg and Nick. I loved the banter because it was a shield they erected between them. It made the hard truths barely wielded mallets instead of hammers. It preserved impenetrability, and banished vulnerability.

Until the shield dissolved – with the sudden swiftness of an ancient deluge. Everything that was buried floated to the surface. Flotsam. Jetsam. Unfettered words.

As two childhood friends who fished together and concocted unforgettable pranks, they were on the cusp of becoming more. Until the villain of the story ruined their chances.

I loved to hate the villain. Isabelle’s vitriol is more bitter than that of any wicked stepsister. She truly is an insidious viper I wanted to slice open with the edge of my garden hoe. But Isabelle too has been hurt.

Then there’s the magic. It’s a gypsy sort of magic that means the people around the sisters can’t hold onto their secrets. Their thoughts and wants and desires are open for rampant pillaging and manipulation. And therein lies the quandary. How can one live with such an unethical lodestone of ability?

The plot was deep and rich and wonderful. The characters were complex, robust and realistic. And the love story was both tender and transcendent.

I loved every single thing about this book. READ IT! And follow the author on Instagram @keiradominguezwrites – she makes me smile with her wry commentaries on life’s profound miscellany.

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