Sometimes you can jump in at the end of a series of connected books and just enjoy the one in your hands on its own merits. Unhappily, such was not the case here. Heart of the Condor is very much tied to its predecessors, it assumes that the reader is already familiar with so much background information, that unless you’ve read one or both of the other books, you may find it as confusing and hard to follow in places as I did.

Sarah Drake, sister of notorious pirates Talon and Marcus Drake, lives in seclusion on the island of Martinique in the care of the benevolent Father Henri. She suffers from post-traumatic blindness, brought on by witnessing the rape and murder of her mother at the hand of Harrison Kendrick, who framed her family in order to get their wealth (I think). Her Spanish sister-in-law’s brother Don Gabriel Cristobel de Espinosa y Ramirez, the notorious privateer known as El Condor, stops by the island on his way back to Spain to answer the spurious charges brought against him by Kendrick’s associates (I think). But his sister has left the island, and while he’s there Gabriel thwarts a kidnapping attempt on Sarah.

Father Henri knows who wants to kidnap her, and why, so in an effort to keep her safe, he coerces Gabriel to marry Sarah and take her to his home on Hispaniola until her brothers can come rescue her; this, of course, will be a marriage in name only. But the best-laid plans of monks and men oft go awry, and by the time her brothers catch up with Sarah, she and Gabriel have fallen in love and found even more trouble. And various parties, including the Spanish, the British, and Harrison Kendrick, are hot on their trail.

The biggest problem I had with the book was the characters of Gabriel and Sarah. The story is set at the end of a time of strong religious sentiments – people fought and died for their beliefs – and yet, aside from the occasional ¡Por Dios!, I never got a real sense that either of these two had any religious convictions. Something happens to Sarah that even today some would consider a miracle, but her only reaction is a great big, “Oh, that’s nice.” No tears, no falling on her knees to thank Heaven for this unexpected event, not even a real sense of excitement. Gabriel’s not much better. When he encounters her after this life-changing event, his reaction is basically, “Great – that’s cool. Now let’s get moving.” No wonder, no awe, no curiosity…nothing.

The quality of the prose varies from creaky (“He smelled of the sea and all things bold” – what, did he smell like, A-1 Steak Sauce?) to awkward (“…she listened as the sound of a horse carried him away” – did the sound carry him away, or did the horse?) to cryptic: “He would not think about Sarah in Kendrick’s hands. He would not think about tomorrow. He would allow nothing in his thoughts. Nothing…was El Condor.” Huh?

There are abrupt shifts in point of view, so that a scene might begin in Sarah’s POV and without warning jump into Gabriel’s. We even get the POV of the Evil Psychotic Villain, who, it turns out, is merely a misunderstood suitor. He’s been carrying a tendre for Sarah for years, ever since he looked up from raping and killing her mother and saw her staring at him in horror. Now he just wants to love her and make it all up to her.

Right.

I can’t totally dis-recommend the book: there are moments when things work and the pages seem to turn by themselves. But such moments are few and far between, and these glimpses of the author’s ability only made the rest of the book that much more frustrating for me. If you’ve read the other two books in the series, you might feel the need to read this one as well, but that’s about as much as I can say for it.