Greenglass House by Kate Milford

Holy toledo this is some book! It's been on my to read list since the first of January. If I had an inkling it was going to be this good, I would have dropped everything and read it first thing. I might not have gotten to it yet, except for Josh, a certain reader at our school who has been bugging me about it. I'm going to give him a huge hug when I see him next. 

Kate Milford can really really write! This book is chock full of so much for me to gush on and on about. There are the characters, and then there is the atmosphere and setting, and don't forget the plot - what a humdinger it is!! 

It's winter at Greenglass house, a former smuggler's retreat that has been transformed into an inn. Milo and his family run the inn and are just settling in for a quiet winter vacation when a gaggle of unexpected guests start arriving. They are all there for a secretive purpose, and when some of their possessions get stolen, it appears that something nefarious is afoot. It's up to Milo, and their cook's granddaughter, Meddy, to figure out what it is. 

I suppose that might not seem spectacular, but holy crow, I'll spoil it for you if I tell you more. I think you need to go into this book blind and trust me when I tell you that this is well worth the ride it takes you on. 

Here is the thing about this book. It's all so real, it feels like I've spent the last few days at the inn with these characters. I've agonized with Milo about who his birth parents are. I've admired the sensitivity, love and concern his today family have for him. I'm awed that almost all of these characters have depths to discover. I love that, except for the one truly dastardly villain, these are good people who care more about others than themselves. 

The inn itself is a character in this novel. If I close my eyes I can visualize  the many staircases and stained glass windows. I'm sure I was there with Milo and Meddy as they explored the dusty treasures in their attic emporium. I feel like I snuggled under the covers in my room listening to the house creak and groan around me as I listened to the wind howling around in the dark night. I still feel the bitter cold of that relentless winter storm.

I now want to read everything Kate Milford has ever written. 

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