Destined to become a Canadian literary classic, Finding Flora chronicles the bittersweet journey of twenty-four-year-old, red-haired, Scottish immigrant, Flora Craigie. Readers can’t help but root for this young, feisty hero whose first act of rebellion is to leap into the darkness from a moving train to escape her new, sick, predatory husband.
“Bracing herself against the jerk and pitch of the train, Flora leaped into the darkness” (3).
Hoodwinked by Hector Mackle, an unscrupulous land agent with the CPR, Flora marries in Scotland, only to discover his wicked nature four weeks later when he tries to strangle her for refusing his advances. Mackle’s been too sick to consummate the marriage, which is a blessing, as Flora learns when she lands in Alberta.
“The symptoms you’re describing sound like syphilis,” Nurse Godwin reveals. Wicked indeed.
This is a hero’s journey where allies and enemies appear at unprecedented times. A kind of feminist Gothic novel, it’s a tale of women helping women facing adversity. Besides confrontations with entitled men of power and privilege, the women struggle against the Canadian Prairie—as brutal an antagonist as the depraved husband who offers a reward for his wayward wife. She is, after all, legally his.
This plucky heroine continues to attract angels—her homesteading female neighbours—in what becomes known as “Ladysville”. At a time when women are deemed inferior and cannot vote (1905-1907) these rebellious women face the ire of the male-dominated community because they refuse to marry or stay silent. Allowed to homestead because the men assume they’ll fail, they face male ire when they make a success of their homesteads during the allotted two-year time frame. How? By helping each other through all the Prairie hurls at them—freezing winters, malevolent hail, sickness, politics, laws, even thugs intent on burning them out.
“Ignorance is fatal, especially out here” (150).
These are wonderfully realistic characters. Among them are a Welsh widow who’s immigrated with her children, so her son can escape the coal mine that killed his father; The Chicken Ladies, a couple of Boston teachers who’ve come to Canada to escape persecution when rumours circulate that they’re more than friends; and Jessie McDonald, a fiercely independent Métis woman who hunts and trains wild horses rather than put plough to land.
Finding Flora is an homage to all homesteaders, those brave souls who laid the foundation for the Western Canada that we know and love today.” —Eleanor Florence
Florence, who grew up in Saskatchewan, has Scottish-Cree heritage and is a member of the Métis Nation of British Columbia. She dedicates this book to her Métis great-grandmother, whose name, not so coincidentally, was Jessie McDonald. The story is one of adoration, and we find our ancestors in these resilient, fighting women who refuse to back down. Whether attacking the sod to plant a garden, chinking the log cabin bare-handed with horse manure and mud, plucking wild oat seed before spreading the precious wheat, or any other of her daily Herculean tasks, Flora finds herself persevering and falling in love with this land.
Woven among the fictional characters are well-described historical characters: Irene Parlby, Alberta women’s rights activist; larger than life figure CPR president William Van Horne, and Alix Westhead, a rich, powerful woman for whom the village of Alix, Alberta was named, and whom Van Horne allegedly had a dalliance with.
Frank Oliver of Edmonton, who served as the federal Minister of the Interior, makes a damnable villain—especially with his frat boy comments: “I jollied her along because she’s such a juicy little tart, with that mane of red hair. Some man will be lucky to get a piece of that” (281.) Ah, just what a woman wants to hear when she’s eavesdropping. It’s Oliver who pushes to expropriate all of Ladysville, and harasses Flora via his agent, Mr. Payne (the perfect name for this villain.) Several real life minor characters also pepper the pages, giving a sense of reality to the homesteaders’ plight. This is history as you’ve never read it.
But don’t despair, this is a feminist tale and there’s power in sisterhood. And for those of you who crave romance, there’s a hint of that too.
Florence is a brilliant writer, the story superbly structured—she plotted the whole thing before filling in the details—the pacing relentless, the drama so thick it will tie you in knots. Yet, it’s so well written, it flows quickly and easily. Her lyrical prose describes the Prairie, both its gifts and its scourges, with imagery so vivid and cinematic we can’t help but wish for Finding Flora to become a film or CBC special. Finding Flora is as much a tribute to the Canadian Prairie as Anne of Green Gables is to P.E.I.
The book is incredibly well-researched—Florence includes a two-page bibliography and a Reading Group Guide for book clubs. She read some sixty books about homesteading in Canada before beginning to write. Perhaps, this practice grew from her earlier career in journalism. Florence worked for newspapers from Manitoba to British Columbia and even published her own award-winning community paper. She also spent eight years writing for Reader’s Digest Canada. Bird’s Eye View, her first novel, was a national bestseller, and Wildwood, her second, was featured in Kobo’s “100 Most Popular Canadian Books of All Time.” This is a woman to watch, this book a pearl of perfection.
Elinor Florence was overjoyed when Finding Flora debuted on the national bestseller list for Canadian Fiction in the number one spot and remained on the national bestseller list for thirty weeks plus during 2025. It’s also a Heather’s Pick for the Indigo, Chapters, and Coles book chain and was recently named one of Indigo’s Top Ten Best Books of 2025.
Reader Beware: This fast-paced Young Adult novel contains several graphic, disturbing scenes of indescribable gore and violence. Actually, I shouldn’t say “indescribable” because it’s Sutherland’s sensory play-by-plays that push it over the edge into the HORROR realm, giving Stephen King a run for his money. Quill & Quire’s called him Canada’s answer to R.L. Stine. If the macabre is not to your taste you might want to give it a pass, but if you’re intrigued by Halloween horror, Stranger Things, and masterfully crafted suspense, read on.
This rapid-fire tale is as highly emotional as its teenage protagonists. Seventeen-year-old Joana, her thirteen-year-old brother Peter, and her troubled father are on the run—not from evil humans but from the voices that haunt their tortured father. The Whisperings.
“They whisper in my ear in the middle of the night as I sleep. They murmur, mumble, and mutter, often nothing more than a stream of indecipherable nonsense. Clear words sometimes jump out of the noise, like fish flying from the water, and sometimes the voices yell. But they all want, and need, and demand”(53).
Every time The Whisperings take hold, the Guests pack their car and drive off to find a new town. This nomadic existence started thirteen years ago when Joana’s mother was violently murdered in their family home. (Note: her horrific murder is described in vivid detail later in the story.) Now, they’ve arrived in the small town of Burlington, Vermont and rented the dank basement of a sprawling (and crawling) Victorian house from old Mrs. Cracknell. It’s a fixer-upper with reduced rent because Dad’s a handyman. It’s hard to keep a job when you’re constantly running from the voices in your head.
Known locally as “The Kill House”, it’s alive, not only with the spirits of a family torn asunder by a tragic murder-suicide, but with creepy insects that natter in the walls. “Ta-tump, ta-tump, ta-tump!” You see, Abraham Keil, the depraved murderer, was an entomologist at the local university. Centipedes and spiders lurk in these musty pages, and a Death Watch Beetle sings Joana into her closet, where she bashes in the wall and discovers the red room. Use your imagination.
If that’s not enough, there’s a creepy little beetle dead-centre every time we break scenes that makes me jump even though I know it’s coming.
When Joana tumbles from a red rock cliff, narrowly escaping with her life, she awakens in hospital with the ability to see ghosts herself. The Whisperings have somehow been transferred to her via a concussion. Woven through the story is a B-plot love story that offers some relief from the nail-biting suspense. Joana meets Willem, a quirky, bookish boy who works at the local diner and christens her, Pumpkin Spice on account of her first latte. How sweet. Will they both survive the hauntings?
Joana’s been on the run since she was four years old and wants nothing more than to put down roots in Burlington, an old-timey village that feels like home to her. She loves to run, and this talent earns her a place on the school rugby team. Things seem to be working out, what with rugby and Willem, until they’re not.
Canadian author Joel A. Sutherland is the award-winning author of Scholastic Canada’s Haunted Canada series (now a graphic novel in development for television). This “master of the macabre” lives in Ontario with his family, but sets his books south of the border in Vermont. His novel, Summer’s End, was a Red Maple Award Honour Book. The Whisperings follows his debut YA novel, House of Ash and Bone, a novel of ghosts and witches, also set in Vermont. He received a Masters of Information and Library Studies from Aberystwyth University in Wales.
In the Afterword, Sutherland explains that horror stories “teach us how to defeat the thing hiding under our bed, the monster lurking in our closet, or the voices only we can hear. They give us the tools we need to face our fears. They remind us that we’re not alone; when the lights go out, we all get a little scared. But in the morning, the sun always rises” (289). Well, maybe not for ALL the characters in this book. If you’re craving frenzied goosebumps, this may be the book for you.
Phaedra Luck may be no Greek princess like her mythical namesake, but she’s one fierce female protagonist. When we first meet “Fade” she’s sleeping rough in a cemetery. Like her missing great aunt Madeline, Fade survives on society’s fringes, woven into nature like other wild things—wolves, women, rabbits, and black bears.
From the dark, disturbing prologue (listen to the author read it here) to the bittersweet end, Penney unravels an epic family tragedy using flawless poetic prose and cinematic imagery. She’s a masterful writer, her chosen words and phrases, evocative and sensory. Blood stains these pages. Fire burns from the creases. “A sharp whiff of something wicked stings my nose. A wretched smell. Burnt. Like scorched meat” (18).
Buried within these charred pages are Gothic horror tropes that expose the darker side of humanity. The witch of Willow Sound lives in an isolated cabin along the coast of Nova Scotia—a cabin that Madeline Luck has built with her own two hands using the materials at hand on Micmac land.
The setting is as much a character as the missing Madeline, her niece Fade who’s come to find her, and Fade’s new sidekick Dr. Anish Chaudry AKA Nish, a PhD historian who helps to unravel the mystery. All good gothic stories evoke weather, and this is no exception. Hurricane Lettie appears like a mythic goddess at the appropriate moment, acting as both healer and destroyer.
Penney explores the mythos of madness in several ways. Madeline’s cozy cabin is juxtaposed not only with the horror lying in the hole below, but with the mad town of Grand Tea—a town thriving on occult tourism that wants to build a lucrative shrine to Madeline, their local witch. The townspeople survive at the edge of a cliff under a massive rock where rain falls “with Cenozoic era rock dust” (143) and their mad Mayor Davish becomes a strange symbol of patriarchal culture to foil this matriarchy.
Described as a “feminist tale about women called witches,” Penney’s story is at once, both mesmerizing, complex, highly entertaining, and an unapologetic statement illustrating the horrors historically and culturally perpetrated against women and children marginalized by society. In Penney’s words, the story” sheds light on what societies do with people and the past they don’t want.” Her Afterword not only reveals her inspiration for the story, but also the magnitude of crimes perpetrated by one tiny Canadian province: “All stories about Nova Scotia must have some darkness in them, I say. Because of all the bones” (309). Unapologetic, and rightfully so. The book is destined to become a classic of East Coast regional folklore.
Penney leaves no list of accolades; in fact, this could be her debut novel. If it is, it will not be her last. There is something precious here to read and savour.
For those readers, intrigued by witches and spells and such things, you will find them woven into these words and buried beneath the dirt and bones of this book. Madeline leaves a hand-made grimoire, and a spell jar containing “a black candle, a white candle, a clove of garlic, a wild rose stem smothered with thorns, a spring of elderberries, and a snip of a rosemary. Everything is flecked with some kind of sparkly black spice.” Black salt. Madeline buried this spell in the earth to protect her house. They are “traditional objects with ancient meanings” (99). But my favourite spells are the old photographs with words on the back that invoke the dead. “Maddie. Berry tea. Rosemary” (286). What would your spell be?
Beneath this tragic tale is another deeply layered story, a catalyst I dare not tell. But I promise you this: It will tear a hole in your heart. Catch Vanessa reading the first chapter here.
From the masterfully crafted opening line to the cheeky last comment, The Never Witch will keep you spellbound. McLean has a talent for creating unique supernatural worlds, so real they could actually exist in contemporary Vancouver. In this, the first of the Thorne Witch series, we’re introduced to a sophisticated world order of witches and warlocks who intermingle with humans. That in itself may not seem new—we’ve certainly met them before—but McLean’s world-building is complex, intelligent, nuanced, and, naturally, political. Oh, and yes, there’s a romantic subplot involving a witch and a warlock that slips this series into the new rage realm of romantasy.
McLean is the Mistress of Complications. These two distinct races of beings— witches and warlocks—are not limited by gender, but there are separations, regulations, and some intriguing intermingling. Both witches and warlocks are born with magic in their DNA. The power of young witches is kept bound until their thirteenth birthday, when a ceremony is held to unbind their elemental earth magic. Every two years thereafter another element is unbound—air, water, then fire.
The problem for our hero, Adeline Thorne, is that her unbinding never worked, and after four attempts she was left barren—without her magic or her coven or her pride. She’s come to accept her fate and lives a quiet life in Dunbar painting portraits, until a violent event sweeps her back into the corrupt world of witches and warlocks. At the same time, it’s discovered that the grid, “the warp and weft that fuelled the magic of witchkind” is being targeted by a warlock. Could it be the same warlock who, having been convicted of siphoning magic from others, slams his magic into Adeline for safekeeping, rather than lose it as his penalty? Warlock magic can kill a witch but, having once tasted of its dangerous power, Adeline decides to keep it, even knowing he’ll kill her to get it back.
As with all new worlds, McLean injects a unique vocabulary and specificity into her writing. Warlock magic smells of ozone; while witch magic smells of cloves. There is a Warlock King and a High Priestess of Witches. Lords and Ladies. War mages and nulls—trained assassins immune to all magic but the king’s. Courts, councils, and cuffs—metal jewellery that blows up at attempted removal, taking a hand, or a head, along with it. Runes and rune glyphs—a permanent mark, like a tattoo, etched onto the skin to prevent siphoning of magic. This reviewer loves this immersion into magical language, but suggests a glossary in the next instalment.
McLean’s writing has never been more stylish and powerful—this book raises the bar on craft. Her signature cheekiness contrasts with elegant, sensory descriptions and riveting action sequences. Some sentences are show-stoppers—“Her hostility was a sheet of hardened ice under a fragile façade of politeness.” And there are echoes of Avatar in this beautiful description of the grid: “She’d spent many evenings in her witch’s garden, watching the tiny specks of life break away from trees and spiders and drift up to become a part of the living grid. Brushing her hand across the tops of tall grass sent the specks scattering like sparks from a bonfire before they rose in a twisting vortex” (13).
The Never Witch is whimsical, hard core, intelligent, and enthralling. Fans of The Discovery of Witches will enjoy McLean’s multi-faceted magical universe where a desire for unity and freedom seethes beneath a surface of cultural differences, rules, and prohibitions. And fans of Practical Magic will enjoy this tale of two sisters: Adeline, the elder, who was never a witch but now carries warlock magic, and Sarah, the younger, a binder and spell caster married to a witch.
JP McLean is a bestselling author of urban fantasy and supernatural thrillers. She’s been the recipient of numerous honours for her Dark Dreams series and her six-book Gift Legacy series. Among them are a Global Book Award, CIBA and Page Turner Award, the National Indie Excellence Awards, the UK Wishing Shelf Book Awards, and the Whistler independent Book Awards. McLean lives on Denman Island and is a favourite at Vancouver Island markets and festivals.
As reviewed in the Ottawa Review of Books, October 2025
Two years later, thirteen-year-old Emma Sharpe is back aboard The New Adventure (having saved her parents from the Poor House and set them up on a farm using her share of the cursed loot) when they’re attacked by a French ship. Emma awakens on the inhospitable island of Samana, finds an injured Jack, and meets quirky Warren Shivers (who’s been living in a cave with a skeleton woman for two years).
After a lengthy series of adventures (eighteen chapters)—wherein Emma bests one sea captain at dueling and later shoots him dead (he is a nasty piece of work), they travel with two other captains and eventually find their way back to Captain Garrett and The New Adventure. This traveling amongst pirate ships and various ports equates to much detail and many characters that are sometimes hard to keep track of. But eventually they’re home (so to speak).
Garrett is obsessed with chasing down Le Phénix, because his ladylove Catherine Ducharme is imprisoned aboard and en route to Bres (Spain? France?) for an undeserved execution. I expected Garrett and Ducharme were a couple in the first book, so am glad to see Atkins has made their relationship public. All three ships and captains join forces to rescue Catherine—though she’s a kickass warrior herself.
This book is most suited to the YA+ crowd. At thirteen/fourteen, Emma’s oblivious to young suitor Etienne (fifteen) who says “We can be together … It’s Jack, isn’t it?” I find it hard to believe that Emma’s clueless as to what he’s talking about, and only sees Jack as family (although it’s obvious to the reader that they make the perfect couple.) I mean, this young woman who escaped an orphanage at eleven, drew her first blood with a sword, and shot a Frenchman dead, is a tad too naïve when it comes to romantic love. I suspect the author, who has a daughter around Emma’s age who was his inspiration, is intent on maintaining her innocence as long as possible.
What’s it got? Brilliant world-building. Excellent writing. The sea voyages and battles read as if the author’s been there and participated, and Atkins’ knowledge of 17th Century ship travel is extraordinary.
If there’s a third book, Emma better get her first kiss. That’s all I’m saying.
White Pines Gala, Port Moody LibraryIs that a pirate’s twinkle?
Atkins says his inspiration for this middle-grade adventure novel was Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, and I can believe it. The narrative sounds akin to novels of that era. The diction and tone strike me as similar to other Victorian novels written for children; meaning there is a formality to the language, a sense of propriety even at the worst of times, and the children are treated like grownups. For that reason, I believe this is a book that can be enjoyed by people of all ages, though it may especially appeal to middle-grade/YA boys and girls because of the rollicking adventure. Note: There’s no romantic subplot; at least not yet.
Yet these are no Disney pirates.
Captain Garrett and his first mate, Mr. Bellows (who does indeed bellow frequently) take in eleven-year-old Emma Sharpe who’s run away from a wretched orphanage (more like a workhouse) and stowed aboard the New Adventure in 1701. Emma quickly becomes friends with the Captain’s cabin boy, Jack Randall, and a varied and eccentric cast of characters. The thing that distinguishes the New Adventure is its swashbuckling, yet decent, equitable captain. The crew, both men and women, work as a team—there’s none of this women-are-bad-luck stuff—and whatever booty they collect is shared by all.
During her first year aboard ship, as the crew sale from Bristol to Barbados, Emma becomes an able seaman, experiencing wonderful teachers (Captain Garrett and Catherine Ducharme, the master-at-arms; inclement weather including the doldrums; shipboard shenanigans; and hostile pirates. By assisting the shipboard doctor and borrowing literature from the Captain’s library, Emma learns geography, science, zoology and botany while exploring islands from Africa to the West Indies.
The crew discover a pirate ship loaded with gold, a cursed treasure, and murdered crewmen because well, when “The Pirates Went Mad,” they killed each other. How will Emma’s crew survive their own curse-induced madness?
Some things that make this book stand out:
Jon Merchant’s old-timey, original, hand-drawn illustrations suit the story. There’s a lovely map marking their route around Tobago, the island in the West Indies where the climax occurs. Atkins includes a four-page glossary. He’s done scads of research and run down countless rabbit holes, yet somehow managed to tell the story in a way that educates without excessive info-dumping. His unique players stay in character, accents and all. We can imagine Mr. Bellows bellowing, “Ya’ heard the captain!”
In this interview, Atkins reveals: “The spark was an idea for a short story I decided I would write for my daughter. One about a girl overcoming a cursed pirate treasure, inspired by the greedy in-fighting and backstabbing represented in R.L. Stevenson’s “Treasure Island” and Y.E. Allison’s poem “Derelict” – all that for a bit of gold and silver. This tale would take us on our own adventure during the Golden Age of Piracy, and simultaneously let us talk about what life was really like back then versus how it’s been popularized in pirate fiction.”
Check out this website for all kinds of insider information on Emma Sharpe’s Adventures.
This book is a finalist in the Whistler Independent Book Awards, 2025 Children’s category. The winner will be announced in Whistler on October 31st. Best of luck in taking home the prize and may no pirates sully your journey there and back again!
