Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts wird im Wasserwerk von London eine Leiche gefunden, die Anzeichen für Cholera hat. Dr. Anton Kronberg, einer der führenden Bakteriologen wird von Scotland Yard hinzugezogen. Am Tatort trifft Anton auf Sherlock Holmes, der sein/ihr Geheimnis dank seiner genialen Kombinati...
I wanted to like this book more than I ultimately did. I was excited about the premise of the book, a female in Victorian England posing as a male in order to work as a Physician. The author had some clever explanations for the transition. Add Sherlock Holmes to that and what a great mix you h...
Minor spoiler: Sherlock Holmes is in this book so I had really big doubts that this would be any good. I was VERY pleasantly surprised. Not only was Sherlock handled reasonably well and respectably but I REALLY liked the main character: a female cross-dressing doctor/detective. I didn't see that ...
I walk up to him, hoping he isn’t going to run away like he did every time I went outside to learn more about dog handling. Once, I’d asked him if he could tame adult wild dogs. He tipped his head and frowned, shrugged and laughed his odd throaty, huffing laugh. Then he disappeared, always with t...
He was rather thick at the waist, with a roll of abundant bosom, hair dishevelled, and dark rimmed eyes overshadowed by sorrow and a hat. His cheeks reddened in spite of the powder covering them. ‘Thank you. I suppose both of us are at the height of our femininity.’ ‘Progressing age has not damp...
Faster, until my injured leg screams in agony. I don’t want to see anyone. I want the rain to cleanse me. I tear my clothes off and leave them where they fall. I don’t know if I’ll ever return, and I don’t care, either. Anything that’s not now, is irrelevant. One foot in front of the other. Twigs...
Now, Europe was a chart covered with threads connecting and tangling, borders separating, powers shifting, governments haggling, cheating, prying, spying. Knowledge was, above all, the greatest power. The old man up in his orderly room, tucked away in a disorderly house, had the knowledge to bri...
Breakfast, or…something?’ Garret asks, his knuckles white against the brownish cup. ‘I have to leave.’ She pushes up and all colour drains from her face. Her elbows quiver. With a sigh, she lays her head back onto the pillow. ‘Stay,’ he says softly, trying not to sound as though he’s begging. H...
Each night I shared James’s, then left soon after we were done with each other. Neither of us had the need to sleep afterwards. He usually went back to his study, while I went to my room to think my own thoughts, unaffected by his presence and the need to pretend. A sudden commotion in the corri...
I dreaded this moment of making a show of myself. And I dreaded the upcoming article, which surely would have little to do with what I would say during a predictably interminable interview. Unfortunately, the one reporter turned out to be three, who seemed to proliferate during the course of the ...