Review: The Thief of Blackfriars Lane

The Thief of Blackfriars Lane by Michelle Griep
My rating: 💛💛💛💛

Reading this story, the one word which kept popping up in my mind was, fun! This book was so much fun.

Both Kit and Jackson were entertaining characters with their own unique strengths and weaknesses. I enjoyed their enemies-to friends-to more relationship. The supporting characters added to the enjoyment of the story.

Mr. Jackson Forge could prove to be a valuable ally. Or a dangerous enemy.

The plot was interesting, kept me guessing and the author’s writing was beautifully descriptive. I also enjoyed the spiritual truths imparted to Kit through Jackson, and to Jackson, through his father.

Oh, Kit. Any time you speak truth to God, He hears and believes, for He sees the heart of any matter.

Meauring God by how people - even godly people - have mistreated you is not a good measuring stick.

A great balance between fun, adventure, danger and suspense. And a few twists and turns I've not expected.

I wish this was the first of a series, because I would love to read more adventures where these two characters are involved.

Fans of Historical fiction and this author will not be disappointed.

As much as you are welcome here, the only true failure in life is refusing to do what God has asked of you.

*I received a complimentary copy via Netgalley. All opinions expressed are my own.*

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About the book:

There’s Often a Fine Line Between a Criminal and a Saint

Constable Jackson Forge intends to make the world safer, or at least the streets of Victorian London. But that’s Kit Turner’s domain, a swindler who runs a crew that acquires money the old-fashioned way—conning the rich to give to the poor. When a local cab driver goes missing, Jackson is tasked with finding the man, and the only way to do that is by enlisting Kit’s help. If Jackson doesn’t find the cabby, he’ll be fired. If Kit doesn’t help Jackson, he’ll arrest her for thievery. Yet neither of them realize those are the least of their problems.

About the author:

I hear voices. Loud. Incessant. And very real. Which basically gives me two options: choke back massive amounts of Prozac or write fiction. I chose the latter. Way cheaper. I've been writing since I discovered blank wall space and Crayolas. I seek to glorify God in all that I write...except for that graffiti phase I went through as a teenager. Oops. Did I say that out loud?