This was my first KJ Charles, purchased and read—I just looked it up—March 2017. I then read the whole series (out of order, of course), re-read this one in 2018, again in 2019, and somehow reviewed nary a one before 2020.
I feel so sentimental.
(And inefficient.)
Of course, in 2020, Silas’s politics have taken on a new relevance. I hate to even say that, though—it was relevant three years ago, and 10 years ago, and 200 years ago, and will retain that continuity with both the past and the future. But the events of 1820 have a symmetry with the events of 2020, and while it’s disingenuous to claim that’s anything new, it’s why I found myself wanting—nay, needing?—to read this series again. The comfort of it. The discomfort of it. The agitation and progress and subversive belief that love can still win.
If I’ve read a book four-plus times and it only gets more meaningful, I’d say that’s an endorsement. That also makes A Seditious Affair my most re-read KJ Charles—so far—if only because it had the head start. It’s forever special to me, and the reason I like my romances to be historically accurate. Long live my dear seditious firebrand and his stubborn Tory.
Note: Silas’s foray into William Blake is a good reminder of just how radical (and outlawed) those texts were.