Following an undercover case gone wrong, the Foxhole sets Cyril up as the Master of the Hounds. The government may have given him a glorified desk job, but he still has to keep up to snuff on the seedier elements in the city of Amberlough—and there’s no better place for getting information than the Bee, the best cabaret around.

Night after night, Aristide takes to the stage and works a crowd of razors, punters, and others into a frenzy with his racy performances. With his side business-cum-empire, he thought bedding a hound like Cyril would mean easy access to state secrets. Yet after years of seeing one another and keeping up certain pretenses, neither one can quite admit he is only after what the other knows.

Unrest, however, is simmering below the surface of the city. With an unpredictable election looming ever closer, Cyril is sent back into the field that literally tore him up and nearly took his life. He is wary but resigned. The freedom and liberties Amberlinian society affords to all, not to mention Cyril and Aristide’s own relationship, is being threatened by a group from a neighboring state called the Ospies. It’s up to Cyril to infiltrate their ranks and ruin their chances at winning the election.

What Cyril doesn’t know is that his cover was blown before he ever made contact with his marks. By the time the cards are on the table, it’s too late for him to do anything more than commit treason. He’s stuck working for the Ospies and in return, they just might let him—and just maybe one ‘friend’—live if he proves useful enough.

As the weeks pass, the stakes raise ever higher as Cyril works desperately, and rather successfully, to help power consolidate around the Ospies. The colorless, rigid fist of the Ospie regime closes ever tighter around Amberlough. Soon, every facet of life in the city starts changing and all the carefully woven threads surrounding Cyril, Aristide, and others begin tightening like nooses. Only time will tell if they will make it out alive, if not unscathed.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is a fabulously lyrical quasi-tragedy. I loved (almost) every moment of it. Donnelly masterfully paints lush scenes of excess and money with the cabaret and balances it with the treacherous aspects of high-risk politics. The characters are richly developed and I loved seeing them interact and react to the every-changing events unfolding in their city.

Ostensibly, the action is told through three main characters. First are Cyril, who works for the government but is forced to turn traitor and Aristide, a cabaret performer with a side business in all manner of illicit affairs. Despite being on opposite sides of the law, they’re able to keep their professional lives separate from their real selves. There are several hints throughout the story that clue the reader into the fact that both Cyril and Aristide feel much more deeply for one another than they’ve let on…and perhaps truly been aware of…until it’s possibly too late. Even so, the bittersweet realizations often feel so full of promise, I was madly flipping pages to find out one would react to the grand (and not so grand) gestures of the other. Like, for example, how hard Cyril works to ensure his act of treachery will not only save his skin, but Aristide’s as well.

Next is Cordelia, another star at the cabaret who does small time deals in illicit substances. She’s a firebrand on-page and drives a lot of the action. Part of it is because of her long-standing, albeit chilly, professional relationship with Aristide and the new professional relationship she develops with Cyril. Through her, Cyril and Aristide have one more way to keep tabs on one another. Though Cordelia is a strong character in her own right and she has plenty of on-page time wrapped up in events that are uniquely hers.

While I would say the world Donnelly created and the characters with which it is filled are fantastic in their own right, I was blown away by the ending. I can’t even remember the last time I wanted to cry over a book. The last fifty or so pages I was reading with an actual pursed-lip power-frown on my face and a huge knot in my stomach. As I mentioned above, I’d say this is pretty much a glorious, magnificent tragedy. The resolutions to Cyril’s and Aristide’s and Cordelia’s stories are as close to “rocks fall, everyone dies” as you can get without actually, necessarily dropping rocks and killing everyone. I loved seeing the sentiments that come pouring out as we, and the characters, reach both literal and figurative ends. I loved seeing the strength, and maybe the weakness, of these characters. They are not infallible and they are not ever hopeful, but perhaps they will go on.

Set against a backdrop of political espionage, I found the entire story well seasoned with scenes that try to explain to the reader who’s who and what’s what. In fact, very early in the book, the reader is simply given the facts about what areas around Amberlough have what sympathies. That said—and this is my one sticking point—it was difficult for me to remember all the political backdrop. For one thing, it was introduced so early, I didn’t even realize the information about different parts of a made-up country was going to be desperately important later in the book, never mind which figurehead was leading those areas. Being so early in the book, I wasn’t even sure the reader is meant to be rooting for Amberlough or not. Perhaps that was the point, but as the political plays start really affecting our characters, it was hard at times for me to read about X place or Y person and immediately connect that with future strife for the characters.

This is a sophisticated book with sophisticated characters. Relationships made are tried, some are broken, and some are proven heartbreakingly stronger than anticipated. The ending is superb, lacking any drop of saccharine, yet offering the slimmest glimmer of hope (if you’re an optimist anyway). I would recommend this book to anyone.

Disclaimer: I do not especially like spy novels.

It feels like the author wanted to write a spy thriller set in the world of CABARET, but didn't want to do the research or match the novel to the real events of the era. The thin veneer that fictionalizes the situation isn't convincing. Also, I felt like the characters were cardboard cutouts, and the author was moving them around like paper dolls, rather than getting the sense that the author cared about bringing fully rounded people to life. The arcs were predictable and the dialogue was tiresome. I'm impressed at the fully formed world and the pure speed at which the book moved, but it wasn't a reading experience I enjoyed.

Stunning





True story. I chose this book because the blurb sounded like MMF with espionage and what's better than that? It is not MMF, just so you know. I think Amberlough should be categorized as gay lit which typically connotes to me a lack of romance. It's true, Amberlough doesn't focus on a romantic plotline per se, but the relationship between Cyril and Aristide is one of the most heartbreakingly romantic and timeless ones I've ever read. They're rarely together but tethered regardless of time or distance.

Amberlough definitively is a wonderful melange of an alternate universe with historical undertones and contemporary sociopolitical overtones. It's magnificently written-evocative, emotive and quieting bewitching. These three characters are beautifully crafted, complex and nuanced, as are the secondary cast all of whom play their roles impeccably. They are flawed, some deeply so, but they were so very affecting.

Aristide Makricosta was my favorite, though.




Aristide is one of those characters that draws me in like a moth to a flame and it's not just because he's a drag queen. He's unscrupulous yet trustworthy, manipulative yet honest, aloof yet caring-a classic paradoxical character. He's got his fingers on the pulse of Amberlough and is whip smart. I think the only person he lets in even to a degree is Cyril.

Cyril Depaul is his lover and a spy. His past is somewhat murky but on a mission he was compromised, nearly killed. Understandably shaken he has been relegated to desk duty since. Nevertheless he's chosen to go undercover for another mission in Ospie held territory just prior to a momentous election and everything goes to shit. Literally. I empathized with Cyril. I didn't always agree with him, but his rationale is undeniably pure, or at least, pragmatic.

When he returns to Gedda Aristide sets him up with Cordelia Lehane. She's his beard to pass Ospie inspection, for all intents and purposes and unbeknownst to her. She is a firecracker and figures out quickly that Cyril isn't interested thus they become friends. She's streetwise, cunning and she'll do what she has to do to survive. Brash and maybe a little uncouth but she makes no apologies for who or what she is and I liked her chutzpah.




This will likely shock no one but Amberlough, in my mind, became pre-WWII Paris-hedonistic and fabulous. Amberlough and, in particular The Bee, are lively, colorful, artistic and chockablock with Bohemians. But with that sort of freedom and vitality there's always a dark underbelly and a conservative faction ready to rally the disenchanted. The Ospies are eerily reminiscent of the Nazi rise to power just prior to occupying France for four long years in that they surround Gedda. The Ospies rule with an iron fist and have zero tolerance for anything or anyone they perceive as deviant. Some Amberlinians can see the handwriting on the wall while others are caught unawares, peaceably living their lives while something wicked this way comes.

Donnelly did a brilliant job contrasting the lush colors of Amberlough with the dreary, lifeless gray of the Ospies. The occupation divested France of it's rosy hue and its joie de vivre as is the Ospies' objective in Amberlough. They are myopic and their laws draconian, but through those long years of occupation the French Resistance held out hope for a better tomorrow, maintaining a covert offensive against the occupation and Amberlough seems to have a similar fortitude. Amberlough may have lost the battle but the war is far from over.

Words of caution: there is on page torture and violence. It gets ugly as all wars do.

I snooped and it seems this will become a trilogy. I will be there. I will gird myself. I will remain optimistic. I will remember that it's always darkest before the dawn. I will hope Donnelly doesn't crush me again.




For a book that started off slow it certainly left an impression . After finishing it I felt fragile and raw yet paradoxically hopeful and above all, heartbroken. I do not cry, but I cried. Ugly cried. There was just a little... nothing, a moment in a day. It truly was nothing I didn't know already anyway, but that drop of sand in the hourglass at the 75% mark was the beginning of the gutting process. So, yeah. Have tissues handy. It's so worth it, though. I wouldn't change a thing and I'm glad my own deviance brought this incredible book into my life.






A review copy was provided.