Dark Tides by Philippa Gregory (Atria Books)

Alinor has returned, but instead of the marshes she once called home, she’s living in a chilly warehouse on the Thames in 1670. The peace she worked so hard to build doesn’t last long. Two figures from her past show up: James Avery, the man who left her behind, and Livia, a Venetian widow spinning tales that Alinor’s son is dead. The real tension? It’s Alinor’s stubborn gut instincts clashing with the smooth lies these outsiders bring. This is a survival story, what it costs when the world suddenly feels bigger and less forgiving.

Alinor still anchors the series. She carries the kind of wisdom that comes only after enduring too many so-called miracles and disasters. She’s skeptical, and that’s how she protects herself. Livia is something else entirely. She’s ambitious, a predator wrapped in grief, and her brand of female agency is sharp-edged, nothing like Alinor’s quieter endurance. The difference between them says a lot about how women find their way in a world that barely gives them any rights.

The narrative spans from the grimy streets of London to the decadence of Venice and the bloody frontiers of New England. These shifting locations mirror a world in transition, where old loyalties are being traded for new wealth. It makes you think about how little has changed regarding the intersection of greed and family. We still see people using grief as a currency and legacy as a weapon.

Gregory’s prose is direct and avoids the flowery traps of historical fiction. She captures the physical reality of the seventeenth century: the cold, the smell of the river, the weight of coins. The pacing feels intentional, though the New England subplot occasionally feels like it belongs in a different book. However, the psychological games played in the London warehouse keep the momentum steady. It is a solid 4/5, mostly because it refuses to give the characters easy exits from their past mistakes.

We’ve all had people show up again, hoping for forgiveness they haven’t earned. This book reminds you to trust your instincts over a polished story. It’s clear-eyed, never sentimental, about what we owe to our history, and what deserves to be left behind.

4/5