Summary:
1777 New York City
The American colonists are fighting for their independence, but the battlefield is not the only place to wage war. When General Washington’s head of intelligence asks Captain Jack West to spy on the British in New York, Jack agrees, despite reservations about this ungentlemanly pursuit.
Jack’s contact in the city recruits bookshop owner Elias Ashfield, an impeccably dressed sensualist who flaunts his desire for both men and women and seeks a place in high society. Jack longs for a simple life guided by clear principles. Eli is a risk-taker who knows how to get what he wants. And he wants Jack in his bed.
Events in Jack’s past have made him fearful of acting on his secret craving for a man’s touch, but Eli intrigues Jack as much as he infuriates him. As Jack and Eli search for the information the rebel army needs, they realize there’s more between them than mere lust. But finding a way to be together may prove more difficult than defeating the British Empire.
Summary:
Jack and Eli have been separated for months while Jack gathers intelligence in Philadelphia and Eli spies on British officers in New York. When Jack has to take on the role of spymaster and work behind-the-scenes, Eli offers to insinuate himself in Philadelphia’s loyalist circles, taking Jack’s place.
As Eli works to uncover traitorous negotiations between a high-ranking American officer and the British, he cozies up to British spymaster John Andre. Jack doesn’t like Eli putting himself at risk, nor does he like seeing him fawning over a beautiful, charming man.
As the chances of the American army surviving the winter decline, tensions mount between Jack and Eli, threatening to tear them apart. They will have to rely on their love and trust for one another to make it through these harrowing months.
Original Review January 2017:
As a lover of historicals, I can honestly say that I absolutely LOVED Revolutionary Temptation! The detail to the time really heightened an already great story of drama and love. Jack is wary of his inclination, with good reason, and Eli is not. Eli may not flaunt his lifestyle for all to see, it is a dangerous time to be gay afterall, but he also doesn't restrict his wants and he's certainly not as quiet as Jack thinks he should be. When they find themselves brought together for the cause of freedom from the British, well, lets just say nothing is ever the same for either of them again. Throw in Constance Sullivan, their boss in the New York spy ring, and you have an intriguing tale of love, espionage, freedom, that adds up to a wonderful read with just the right amount of angst and a little humor thrown in for good measure. A great addition to my historical library that I'm already looking forward to re-reading.
Of Hope and Anguish #2
Original Review March 2018:
With their missions keeping them apart, Jack and Eli haven't had much time together but now that Jack has to step in and position of Spymaster, Eli finds himself in Philadelphia taking Jack's place. Having made an acquaintanceship with British spymaster John Andre while they were both in New York, Eli continues to cozy up to the charming enemy Andre hoping to learn all he can but will the secrets be worth the jealousy and looming possibility of losing Jack for good?
I am going to start right off the bat by saying I forgot just how much I loved Eli and Jack not to mention the lovely determined Constance. For those who may say well that's just unrealistic that a woman would have been so forthright in the spy ring over 200 years ago, well I say "You don't know your history". Now back to Eli and Jack, how can you not love these two? The love they have for each other is pretty obvious but so is their love for freedom. I won't expand on the plot more than that but I just need to say that Silvia Violet balances the mission and the heart beautifully, I won't say evenly because there is drama that tends to tip the scales one way or the other but she does it realistically. I truly loved how the author stayed true to the times and yet Of Hope and Anguish is entertaining and not a history lesson, which personally I think is a perfect example that speaks of the author's talent.
The American Revolution is not a time period that is often used in the M/M genre and I wish we had more so when I find one it pretty much automatically goes on my TBR list. If it's not an era in historicals that you read often I highly recommend giving Silvia Violet's Revolutionaries a visit and "visit" is exactly what you will be doing. To say the reader will feel like their living in the time is a bit of an exaggeration but you definitely will walk away with a better understanding of the era and an appreciation for what those who fought for our freedom from British Rule dealt with. Will you learn a few things about the era? Sure. Will you walk away entertained? Most certainly! I hope this isn't the last time we see Eli, Jack, and Constance but if it is then I can safely say that Of Hope and Anguish is just as good and sucked me in as deeply as Revolutionary Temptation and I am already looking forward to re-reading these spies with heart.
RATING:
Revolutionary Temptation #1
Captain Jack West entered the noisy tavern where numerous continental-army officers attempted to alleviate their winter boredom with tankards of ale. He glanced around the room searching for Major Tallmadge, who’d summoned Jack, saying he wanted to discuss a special mission. There was over a foot of snow on the ground, and both the rebels and the British were holed up for the winter.
Three weeks earlier during the fighting in Trenton, Jack had been shot in the leg. The bullet had lodged in the outer side of his thigh, a few inches above the knee. He’d sustained a cracked femur and bled heavily, but thank God, the surgeon had saved his leg. After weeks in bed, he was now able to walk, but he had a pronounced limp and his leg pained him constantly. What kind of mission could he carry out in his current condition? Not to say he wouldn’t be thankful to do something other than listen to the bluster of fellow officers or contemplate how poor the rebels’ chances would be come spring.
Tallmadge sat on a bench in the corner of the crowded room. As Jack moved his way, a man knocked into him, nearly spilling his beer all over Jack’s coat. Jack caught the man’s arm and steadied him.
“Sorry, Captain,” the man mumbled.
Annoyed as he was, Jack forced himself to smile. The soldier was young and foolish—hell, they all were—and he’d been too distracted by the buxom serving girl to watch where he was going. Jack shooed him on his way.
Speaking of distractions, Benjamin Tallmadge was an incredibly beautiful man. Not that Jack had heard or seen anything to suggest Tallmadge had an interest in more than friendship with his fellow men. Even if he had, Jack wouldn’t dare approach him. He couldn’t afford that kind of risk. It was difficult enough to keep his men in line without rumors he was a sodomite.
“Good evening,” he said, taking a seat across from Tallmadge.
“Jack.” Tallmadge held out his hand to shake. “Thank you for joining me.”
Tallmadge looked preoccupied, not surprising considering the difficult task he’d been assigned as Washington’s head of intelligence. Jack asked, “You mentioned a special mission?”
“I did, and I want to ask you to hear me out before you respond.”
Not a promising beginning. “Ben, what’s going on?”
“Washington needs information about what’s happening in New York: How many troops are there? What reinforcements are coming in the spring? What is General Howe planning?”
Jack nodded; so far nothing he’d said was surprising.
“Our scouts haven’t been able to find much of interest. We need someone on the inside. You have relatives in the city, and the winter is an excellent time to visit them.”
Jack frowned. “I hardly think the British are going to divulge their secrets to a continental officer.”
“No, they won’t.”
Wait a moment… Ben wanted Jack to be a spy. “You don’t want me to go in uniform, do you?”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t.”
“You want me to go as a spy.”
Ben sighed. “I do. We need this information if we’re to have a chance when the fighting starts next spring.”
“You can’t be serious. I—” Ben held up his hand, and Jack stopped mid-word, though he held himself rigid. He’d been determined to still be useful after his injury, but he wasn’t going to slink around and listen at keyholes.
“I asked you to hear me out.”
Jack nodded. He had. He’d known Ben since they’d joined the Second Continental Light Dragoons at the same time, only a few years after they’d each taken their degrees. And here they were, men of only twenty-three years, deciding moral questions that would guide this new nation.
“Traditional intelligence-gathering isn’t going to get us the information we need,” Ben insisted.
“Surely you have reservations about this. A gentleman doesn’t—”
“A gentleman doesn’t slaughter men or steal provisions.”
Jack bristled at their fight for freedom put in those terms. “Killing soldiers in a battle and seizing what the army needs isn’t…”
Ben’s knowing look silenced Jack. In truth, Jack was simply parroting what he was supposed to believe. Ben had a point. The army had resorted to all manner of ungentlemanly behavior to survive: surprise attacks, stealing food from local farms, burning civilian homes. And still they had little to eat, barely any wood for fuel, and few blankets to cover freezing soldiers. If the rebels didn’t have a decisive victory in the spring, how many of these men would stick around? The British already massively outnumbered them. And with his injury, would Jack even be able to fight?
Could he lower himself to play the spy to help the rebels win? “Spies are little better than criminals. Some would say they’re worse.”
They paused their conversation while a serving girl offered a pitcher of ale and a cup for Jack. When she left them, Ben said, “It’s not the method I would prefer, but I’ll do whatever I have to in order to defeat the British.”
Could Jack do any less? He’d never been a coward. He’d faced enemy fire on the battlefield, and while he’d been terrified, he hadn’t run. As a man of honor, he could visit his family in the city unscathed, as long as he kept his political views to himself. If he were caught there as a spy, he’d hang, a disgraceful death.
“Did you choose me for this because of my leg?” No matter what the surgeon said, he was determined he would heal enough to make himself battle-worthy.
Ben shook his head. “I trust you. I’ve seen how bravely you fight, and I’ve also seen you uphold your principles when it would be easier not to. You’ve been kind when you didn’t have to be.”
“And that makes me a good spy?” It seemed to say quite the opposite to Jack.
“A spy needs to be dedicated, intelligent, and able to decide when to push and when to let go. You have all those qualities.”
“But I’m also plainspoken. I’ve never been one to sneak around, and I don’t lie easily.”
Ben took a sip of ale and studied Jack. “Are you sure about that?”
Dear God, did Ben know his secret? Surely not. What could he have done to give himself away?
“I try to be honest. That’s always been important to me.” If only he weren’t cursed with a desire for men that he had to lie about unless he wanted to die for it.
Ben smiled. “We all lie sometimes. Most of us are better at it than we care to admit.”
Of Hope and Anguish #2
October 1777
The carriage took off with a jolt, nearly tumbling Eli from the cushioned seat. “Dear God, has your driver taken leave of his wits?”
Constance frowned. “I’m afraid it’s young Tom.”
“The stable boy?”
He could barely see her nod in the moonlight that filtered through the window. “Lester has taken a chill, and I needed someone I could trust, someone who will bring back all the gossip he can gather.”
“You don’t mean to say Tom knows of our anonymous activities?”
She waved away his incredulity. “You know I only hire servants I can trust.”
“He can’t be more than fourteen, and he—”
“Hates the British army’s treatment of New York and her citizens as much as we do.”
Eli thunked against the side of the carriage as they flew around a corner. “Perhaps your trust in him as an informant is well-founded, but will he deliver us to the ball in one piece?”
Constance grimaced as she slid across the seat. “I fear I’m no longer sure.”
Eli let out a breath as they reached a straight stretch of road and the excitement of the ride diminished. “Do we have a particular objective this evening?”
“I’d like you to give your opinion of a few of the officers who have recently returned to the city, most particularly a Captain John Andre. My sources indicate he’s intelligent, ambitious, and in charge of intelligence.”
“You think he’s Howe’s spymaster.”
Constance nodded. “I do. I’ve only recently become acquainted with him, but I was impressed by his wit and shrewdness. I don’t believe he will give up his secrets easily, not even if I used my best efforts at seduction.”
Eli studied her for a moment. “Is that still an option for you?”
“Seduction?”
Eli nodded. The previous spring, Constance had fallen in love with Major Randall Bradford, a British officer, but she’d been reluctant to talk about the nature of their arrangement, and Bradford had left the city with Howe’s army on the campaign to take Philadelphia.
“Everything is an option for me, Eli.”
He could no longer say the same for himself. “I will do whatever must be done to end this war except betray Jack’s confidence.” It had been three months since he’d seen the man he loved. And even their correspondence had been sparse. He dreamed of Jack often, but waking alone, grasping after dream images, only made him miss Jack more.
Constance laid a hand over Eli’s. “I would not ask that of you. We have to give up many of our principles to do this work, but if we cannot hold to some, we are no better than the monsters we abhor.”
Her words brought to Eli’s mind the monster who’d jailed and tortured him, intending him to betray Constance, Jack, and their army contacts. He’d refused, and it had almost cost him his life. He still bore scars from the experience, and several fingers on his left hand would always be crooked, but he would suffer all of it again to keep those he cared for safe.
Constance seemed to sense his need for a change of subject. “You and Andre have many things in common: a love of reading, music, art, beautiful women.”
Eli laughed. “He does sound like a man whose company I would enjoy.”
“He entertains regularly, and as his friend, you would be able to attend events a respectable woman would never be invited to, events with other officers, where talk of war would be freer.”
Eli understood her well. If he could become part of Andre’s circle, he would likely hear gossip that would tell him a great deal of what the British were planning. And if they became particular friends, Eli would be able to ask questions a mere acquaintance could not. “I will do all I can to make a favorable impression on the captain.”
“Thank you, Eli. I hesitated to ask you tonight.”
“Because Jack would rather I were no longer involved in this business?”
Constance smiled. “No.” Eli started to protest, but she held up a hand. “He did ask, but I know you too well to think you will stop unless you want to. It’s more that you’ve been…distant.”
He had not borne Jack’s absence or his own slow recovery well. “I only apologize for not having been as supportive as I should have these past months.”
Constance sighed. “We neither of us have been ourselves.”
He squeezed her hand. “We’re both grieving the absence of those we love.”
“Which will not bring them back.” She squeezed his hand back and sat up straighter. “We should focus on what we can do to assist our cause and end this war.”
“Is there still hope it will end in our favor?” Terrible news of the state of Washington’s army had added to Eli’s malaise. Men were deserting in large numbers. Those who remained were cold and hungry, and disease was rampant in the camp.
Captain Jack West entered the noisy tavern where numerous continental-army officers attempted to alleviate their winter boredom with tankards of ale. He glanced around the room searching for Major Tallmadge, who’d summoned Jack, saying he wanted to discuss a special mission. There was over a foot of snow on the ground, and both the rebels and the British were holed up for the winter.
Three weeks earlier during the fighting in Trenton, Jack had been shot in the leg. The bullet had lodged in the outer side of his thigh, a few inches above the knee. He’d sustained a cracked femur and bled heavily, but thank God, the surgeon had saved his leg. After weeks in bed, he was now able to walk, but he had a pronounced limp and his leg pained him constantly. What kind of mission could he carry out in his current condition? Not to say he wouldn’t be thankful to do something other than listen to the bluster of fellow officers or contemplate how poor the rebels’ chances would be come spring.
Tallmadge sat on a bench in the corner of the crowded room. As Jack moved his way, a man knocked into him, nearly spilling his beer all over Jack’s coat. Jack caught the man’s arm and steadied him.
“Sorry, Captain,” the man mumbled.
Annoyed as he was, Jack forced himself to smile. The soldier was young and foolish—hell, they all were—and he’d been too distracted by the buxom serving girl to watch where he was going. Jack shooed him on his way.
Speaking of distractions, Benjamin Tallmadge was an incredibly beautiful man. Not that Jack had heard or seen anything to suggest Tallmadge had an interest in more than friendship with his fellow men. Even if he had, Jack wouldn’t dare approach him. He couldn’t afford that kind of risk. It was difficult enough to keep his men in line without rumors he was a sodomite.
“Good evening,” he said, taking a seat across from Tallmadge.
“Jack.” Tallmadge held out his hand to shake. “Thank you for joining me.”
Tallmadge looked preoccupied, not surprising considering the difficult task he’d been assigned as Washington’s head of intelligence. Jack asked, “You mentioned a special mission?”
“I did, and I want to ask you to hear me out before you respond.”
Not a promising beginning. “Ben, what’s going on?”
“Washington needs information about what’s happening in New York: How many troops are there? What reinforcements are coming in the spring? What is General Howe planning?”
Jack nodded; so far nothing he’d said was surprising.
“Our scouts haven’t been able to find much of interest. We need someone on the inside. You have relatives in the city, and the winter is an excellent time to visit them.”
Jack frowned. “I hardly think the British are going to divulge their secrets to a continental officer.”
“No, they won’t.”
Wait a moment… Ben wanted Jack to be a spy. “You don’t want me to go in uniform, do you?”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t.”
“You want me to go as a spy.”
Ben sighed. “I do. We need this information if we’re to have a chance when the fighting starts next spring.”
“You can’t be serious. I—” Ben held up his hand, and Jack stopped mid-word, though he held himself rigid. He’d been determined to still be useful after his injury, but he wasn’t going to slink around and listen at keyholes.
“I asked you to hear me out.”
Jack nodded. He had. He’d known Ben since they’d joined the Second Continental Light Dragoons at the same time, only a few years after they’d each taken their degrees. And here they were, men of only twenty-three years, deciding moral questions that would guide this new nation.
“Traditional intelligence-gathering isn’t going to get us the information we need,” Ben insisted.
“Surely you have reservations about this. A gentleman doesn’t—”
“A gentleman doesn’t slaughter men or steal provisions.”
Jack bristled at their fight for freedom put in those terms. “Killing soldiers in a battle and seizing what the army needs isn’t…”
Ben’s knowing look silenced Jack. In truth, Jack was simply parroting what he was supposed to believe. Ben had a point. The army had resorted to all manner of ungentlemanly behavior to survive: surprise attacks, stealing food from local farms, burning civilian homes. And still they had little to eat, barely any wood for fuel, and few blankets to cover freezing soldiers. If the rebels didn’t have a decisive victory in the spring, how many of these men would stick around? The British already massively outnumbered them. And with his injury, would Jack even be able to fight?
Could he lower himself to play the spy to help the rebels win? “Spies are little better than criminals. Some would say they’re worse.”
They paused their conversation while a serving girl offered a pitcher of ale and a cup for Jack. When she left them, Ben said, “It’s not the method I would prefer, but I’ll do whatever I have to in order to defeat the British.”
Could Jack do any less? He’d never been a coward. He’d faced enemy fire on the battlefield, and while he’d been terrified, he hadn’t run. As a man of honor, he could visit his family in the city unscathed, as long as he kept his political views to himself. If he were caught there as a spy, he’d hang, a disgraceful death.
“Did you choose me for this because of my leg?” No matter what the surgeon said, he was determined he would heal enough to make himself battle-worthy.
Ben shook his head. “I trust you. I’ve seen how bravely you fight, and I’ve also seen you uphold your principles when it would be easier not to. You’ve been kind when you didn’t have to be.”
“And that makes me a good spy?” It seemed to say quite the opposite to Jack.
“A spy needs to be dedicated, intelligent, and able to decide when to push and when to let go. You have all those qualities.”
“But I’m also plainspoken. I’ve never been one to sneak around, and I don’t lie easily.”
Ben took a sip of ale and studied Jack. “Are you sure about that?”
Dear God, did Ben know his secret? Surely not. What could he have done to give himself away?
“I try to be honest. That’s always been important to me.” If only he weren’t cursed with a desire for men that he had to lie about unless he wanted to die for it.
Ben smiled. “We all lie sometimes. Most of us are better at it than we care to admit.”
Of Hope and Anguish #2
October 1777
The carriage took off with a jolt, nearly tumbling Eli from the cushioned seat. “Dear God, has your driver taken leave of his wits?”
Constance frowned. “I’m afraid it’s young Tom.”
“The stable boy?”
He could barely see her nod in the moonlight that filtered through the window. “Lester has taken a chill, and I needed someone I could trust, someone who will bring back all the gossip he can gather.”
“You don’t mean to say Tom knows of our anonymous activities?”
She waved away his incredulity. “You know I only hire servants I can trust.”
“He can’t be more than fourteen, and he—”
“Hates the British army’s treatment of New York and her citizens as much as we do.”
Eli thunked against the side of the carriage as they flew around a corner. “Perhaps your trust in him as an informant is well-founded, but will he deliver us to the ball in one piece?”
Constance grimaced as she slid across the seat. “I fear I’m no longer sure.”
Eli let out a breath as they reached a straight stretch of road and the excitement of the ride diminished. “Do we have a particular objective this evening?”
“I’d like you to give your opinion of a few of the officers who have recently returned to the city, most particularly a Captain John Andre. My sources indicate he’s intelligent, ambitious, and in charge of intelligence.”
“You think he’s Howe’s spymaster.”
Constance nodded. “I do. I’ve only recently become acquainted with him, but I was impressed by his wit and shrewdness. I don’t believe he will give up his secrets easily, not even if I used my best efforts at seduction.”
Eli studied her for a moment. “Is that still an option for you?”
“Seduction?”
Eli nodded. The previous spring, Constance had fallen in love with Major Randall Bradford, a British officer, but she’d been reluctant to talk about the nature of their arrangement, and Bradford had left the city with Howe’s army on the campaign to take Philadelphia.
“Everything is an option for me, Eli.”
He could no longer say the same for himself. “I will do whatever must be done to end this war except betray Jack’s confidence.” It had been three months since he’d seen the man he loved. And even their correspondence had been sparse. He dreamed of Jack often, but waking alone, grasping after dream images, only made him miss Jack more.
Constance laid a hand over Eli’s. “I would not ask that of you. We have to give up many of our principles to do this work, but if we cannot hold to some, we are no better than the monsters we abhor.”
Her words brought to Eli’s mind the monster who’d jailed and tortured him, intending him to betray Constance, Jack, and their army contacts. He’d refused, and it had almost cost him his life. He still bore scars from the experience, and several fingers on his left hand would always be crooked, but he would suffer all of it again to keep those he cared for safe.
Constance seemed to sense his need for a change of subject. “You and Andre have many things in common: a love of reading, music, art, beautiful women.”
Eli laughed. “He does sound like a man whose company I would enjoy.”
“He entertains regularly, and as his friend, you would be able to attend events a respectable woman would never be invited to, events with other officers, where talk of war would be freer.”
Eli understood her well. If he could become part of Andre’s circle, he would likely hear gossip that would tell him a great deal of what the British were planning. And if they became particular friends, Eli would be able to ask questions a mere acquaintance could not. “I will do all I can to make a favorable impression on the captain.”
“Thank you, Eli. I hesitated to ask you tonight.”
“Because Jack would rather I were no longer involved in this business?”
Constance smiled. “No.” Eli started to protest, but she held up a hand. “He did ask, but I know you too well to think you will stop unless you want to. It’s more that you’ve been…distant.”
He had not borne Jack’s absence or his own slow recovery well. “I only apologize for not having been as supportive as I should have these past months.”
Constance sighed. “We neither of us have been ourselves.”
He squeezed her hand. “We’re both grieving the absence of those we love.”
“Which will not bring them back.” She squeezed his hand back and sat up straighter. “We should focus on what we can do to assist our cause and end this war.”
“Is there still hope it will end in our favor?” Terrible news of the state of Washington’s army had added to Eli’s malaise. Men were deserting in large numbers. Those who remained were cold and hungry, and disease was rampant in the camp.
Silvia Violet writes fun, sexy stories that will leave you smiling and satisfied. She has a thing for characters who are in need of comfort and enjoys helping them surrender to love even when they doubt it exists. Silvia's stories include sizzling contemporaries, paranormals, and historicals. When she needs a break from listening to the voices in her head, she spends time baking, taking long walks, and curling up with her favorite books. Keep up with her latest ventures by signing up for her newsletter.
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Revolutionary Temptation #1
Oh Hope and Anguish #2
Series
