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Summary
Summary
It's a freezing winter day in London, 1895, when two young girls have a chance meeting. The pair turn out to have much in common: both are poor, both are parentless. But Minnie Maude, only eight, has even worse problems: the uncle with whom she lived has just been murdered, and if that's not enough, the family's donkey has run away. Her new friend Gracie, all of thirteen, feels obliged to help her, and so the girls team up to solve the mystery-and find Charlie the donkey. Anne Perry fans will recognize young Gracie as Charlotte Pitt's maid, a continuing character in the author's bestselling Charlotte and Thomas Pitt Victorian mystery series.
Author Notes
Anne Perry was born Juliet Hume on October 28, 1938 in Blackheath, London.
Sent to Christchurch, New Zealand to recover from a childhood case of severe pneumonia, she became very close friends with another girl, Pauline Parker. When Perry's family abandoned her, she had only Parker to turn to, and when the Parkers planned to move from New Zealand, Parker asked that Perry be allowed to join them. When Parker's mother disagreed, Perry and Parker bludgeoned her to death. Perry eventually served five and a half years in an adult prison for the crime.
Once she was freed, she changed her name and moved to America, where she eventually became a writer. Her first Victorian novel, The Cater Street Hangman, was published in 1979. Although the truth of her past came out when the case of Mrs. Parker's murder was made into a movie (Heavenly Creatures), Perry is still a popular author and continues to write. She has written over 50 books and short story collections including the Thomas Pitt series, the William Monk series, and the Daniel Pitt series. Her story, Heroes, won the 2001 Edgar Award for Best Short Story. Her title's Blind Justice and The Angel Court Affair made The New York Times Best Seller List.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (3)
Publisher's Weekly Review
While bestseller Perry doesn't offer much of a puzzle in her seventh Christmas-themed Victorian historical (after 2008's A Christmas Grace), she does a highly credible job of evoking Dickens, especially in the opening scenes set in Whitechapel. As the 1883 holiday season nears in London's East End, 13-year-old Gracie Phipps, a supporting character in Perry's Charlotte and Thomas Pitt series (Buckingham Palace Gardens, etc.), encounters a woebegone younger child, Minnie Maude Mudway, on the mean streets of her neighborhood. Minnie is looking for a missing donkey, Charlie, which belonged to her beloved uncle Alf. The animal disappeared the day before, around the same time Alf, a bone-and-rag dealer, was killed. The two girls turn detective in an effort to find Charlie as well as the truth about how Alf died. Mr. Balthasar, a shopkeeper who assists in the sleuthing, lends an appealing Holmesian touch. (Nov.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Booklist Review
On a raw December evening, just before Christmas, 13-year-old Gracie Phipps meets 8-year-old Minnie Maude, whose uncle has just died under unusual circumstances and who is looking for her lost donkey, Charlie. Prompted by guilt after leaving the child to her lonely search, Gracie finds Minnie Maude the next day and offers to help her find Charlie and investigate Uncle Alf's death. Soon they run into trouble and approach the mysterious Mr. Balthasar for help, who comes to the rescue just as the children find themselves in great danger. This latest addition to Perry's Christmas mysteries series again weaves the lives and times of the poor in Victorian London into a heartwarming story. Readers will recognize Gracie as the girl who will become Charlotte Pitt's maid in Perry's Charlotte and Thomas Pitt series.--O'Brien, Sue Copyright 2009 Booklist
Library Journal Review
Mystery author Perry returns with the seventh annual Victorian Christmas offering (after A Christmas Grace). Minnie and Gracie are working on the mystery of a missing donkey. Oh, and Minnie's uncle has just been murdered, so they set off to solve that crime as well. Short and sweet, for mystery collections where the previous Perry Christmas offerings have done well. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 7/09; library marketing.] (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
The week before christmas, the smell and taste of it were in the air, a kind of excitement, an urgency about everything. Geese and rabbits hung outside butchers' shops, and there were little pieces of holly on some people's doors. Postmen were extra busy. The streets were still gray, the wind still hard and cold, the rain turning to sleet, but it wouldn't have seemed right if it had been different. Gracie Phipps was on an errand for her gran to get a tuppence worth of potatoes to go with the leftovers of cabbage and onion, so Gran could make bubble and squeak for supper. Spike and Finn would pretty well eat anything they could fit into their mouths, but they liked this especially. Better with a slice of sausage, of course, but there was no money for that now. Everything was being saved for Christmas. Gracie walked a little faster into the wind, pulling her shawl tighter around her. She had the potatoes in a string bag, along with half a cabbage. She saw the girl standing by the candle makers, on the corner of Heneage Street and Brick Lane, her reddish fair hair blowing about and her arms hugged around her as if she were freezing. She looked to be about eight, five years younger than Gracie, and as skinny as an eel. She had to be lost. She didn't belong there, or on Chicksand Street-one over. Gracie had lived on these streets ever since she had come to London from the country, when her mother had died six years before, in 1877. She knew everyone. "Are yer lorst?" she asked as she reached the child. "This is 'Eneage Street. Where d'yer come from?" The girl looked at her with wide gray eyes, blinking fiercely in an attempt to stop the tears from brimming over onto her cheeks. "Thrawl Street," she answered. That was two streets over to the west and on the other side of Brick Lane, out of the neighborhood altogether. "It's that way." Gracie pointed. "I know where it is," the girl replied, not making any effort to move. "Me uncle Alf's bin killed, an' Charlie's gorn. I gotta find 'im, cos 'e'll be cold an' 'ungry, an' mebbe scared." Her eyes brimmed over, and she wiped her sleeve across her face and sniffed. " 'Ave yer seen a donkey as yer don't know? 'E's gray, wi' brown eyes, an' a sort o' pale bit round the end of 'is nose." She looked at Gracie with sudden, intense hope. " 'E's about this 'igh." She indicated, reaching upward with a small, dirty hand. Gracie would have liked to help, but she had seen no animals at all, except for the coal man's horse at the end of the street, and a couple of stray dogs. Even hansom cabs didn't often come to this part of the East End. Commercial Street, or Whitechapel Road, maybe, on their way to somewhere else. She looked at the child's eager face and felt her heart sink. "Wot's yer name?" she asked. "Minnie Maude Mudway," the child replied. "But I in't lorst. I'm lookin' fer Charlie. 'E's the one wot's lorst, an' summink might 'ave 'appened to 'im. I told yer, me uncle Alf's bin killed. Yesterday it were, an' Charlie's gorn. 'E'd 'ave come 'ome if 'e could. 'E must be cold an' 'ungry, an' 'e dunno where 'e is." Gracie was exasperated. The whole story made no sense. Why would Minnie Maude be worrying about a donkey that had wandered off, if her uncle had really been killed? And yet she couldn't just leave the girl there standing on the corner in the wind. It would be dark very soon. It was after three already, and going to rain. "Yer got a ma?" Gracie asked. "No," Minnie Maude answered. "I got an aunt Bertha, but she says as Charlie don't matter. Donkeys is donkeys." "Well, if yer uncle got killed, maybe she don't care that much about donkeys right now." Gracie tried to sound reasonable. "Wot's gonna 'appen to 'er, wif 'im gone? Yer gotta think as she might be scared an' all." Minnie Maude blinked. "Uncle Alf di'n't matter to 'er like that," she explained. " 'E were me pa's bruvver." She sniffed harder. "Uncle Al Excerpted from A Christmas Promise by Anne Perry All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
