Green Hills and Daffodils

Green Hills and Daffodils follows the effervescent Jane as she finds herself in a new town, surrounded by quirky characters that both introduce her to the local culture, and allow her seemingly gentle but ultimately confident optimism to shine through. She is clumsy, but does not seem to mind, taking things not so seriously. One of her favorite people, the undeniably lovable Stewart, is trying to discover himself, and Jane helps nudge him along the way.

It is evident that Kendrick loves the characters – not just Jane and Stewart, but all of them. There is a realness to their personalities, and everything they say and do is just as telling as the subtle silences in between. Although the novel initially focuses on Jane, it seamlessly jumps between the differing characters, and Stewart often becomes a co-protagonist in sections, which feels natural.

An exploration of inner suppression, the fear of being oneself, and the powers that are unleashed when one learns to accept oneself, Kendrick’s novel goes beyond the scope of LGBTQ issues, illustrating how anyone, with the right support, can learn to love even the most hidden parts of themselves.

“Jane Dawson bought the farm.”—Green Hills and Daffodils

There were several intriguing things about this book. One, read the copyright. Really. You’ll thank me. Or if I’m writing as Kendrick, “Ewe’ll thank me.” Two, the first line of the book was an instant hook and a good laugh. Because Jane Dawson does, literally, buy the farm. However, it’s more of a long-term lease than a purchase.

The lease leads to a fish out of water story about an American in Wales. Our main character Jane is not only struggling to fit into the charming countryside town and the shared tenant farm where she’s moved but with learning the language as well. Of course, this makes the story rife with cultural misunderstandings and remarkable miscommunications. The miscommunications though are hysterical, beginning with the mispronunciation of Cwm Cudd (trust me).

Jane’s adventures in Wales include her faithful travelling companion, a goofy sheep dog called Moss, her helpful neighbor Stewart, and the boor who lives next door in her shared tenancy, Rhys. But who cares if Rhys is a boor with a tragic past, he’s also hot. Then there’s the village Catholic priest who’s dealing with some unusual Lenten messages, and possibly a dragon. Except the dragon might be a metaphor and not an actual dragon—you can decide for yourself.

Once you get further settled in and are getting used to the scatological crap, no pun intended, there appears to be a serial killer in town!

Kendrick has quite the interesting story concept with Green Hills and Daffodils. It never quite goes where I hoped it would, and that was both distracting and disappointing. It certainly wasn’t as explicit or kinky as it first hinted. Nonetheless, Kendrick writes an engaging first book, but I wanted it to be more than it was. I’ll just have to read the next book to see if it is!

A Four- star book about metaphorical dragons, a possible serial killer, and the American woman who finds herself stuck in the middle of it.