In Which I Take a Little Break From the Romance

Hello, friends.

So things don't seem to be getting any quieter or easier or simpler. Which is all fine (no complaints!), however it is not conducive to an environment in which I read a lot of books and then write about them. But whatever, I'm trying.

And with that I have a somewhat startling announcement to make: I'm skipping the romance novels for the moment. I started the much-awaited Tessa Dare sequel, and it's good. Really good so far, even. But then I made the mistake of watching the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows trailer. Not really a mistake, because the movie looks shockingly good (I have not been entirely impressed by them so far), and inspired me to do something I like to do every-so-often, and that is to sit down and read Harry from the beginning. I recommend it, it's pretty awesome.

Perhaps part of the reason I need a bit of a detox is because I indulged in some of my romance crack, and now I need some time alone to think about what a mistake it was, and what I should be doing with my life.

It started at Smart Bitches (doesn't it always?) and it started with this article about book crack. Come on, you know you have it. The stuff that's so bad you just have to read it. It provides a kind of morbid comfort in the fact it always remains the same: bad.

I have a couple of book cracks. At this point anything by J.R. Ward largely qualifies, and as we know, I have a shameful yen for Sandra Brown's back catalog of genre-romances. My my real, true downfall is Diana Palmer.

I've talked before about how formuliac her books are. But now I'd like to put more emphasis on how ridiculous her characters are. Ready? OK: The heroine (I completely forget her name) is a widow, convinced she contributed to her alcoholic asshole husband's death because she didn't like having sex with him. No, I'm not joking.

Then there's the whole "I've been in love with my best friend's older brother since I was 14, but he just thinks we're friends" thing. See, normally you would prescribe a glass of wine and an honest conversation for such problems, but the heroine doesn't drink. And while acknowledging that the first drink for anyone is affecting, I don't think a comforting half a glass of Scotch leads to seriously impaired judgement and a world-class hangover.

This is all to say nothing of the sexorrating which involves (wait for it...) a half-virgin widow. This, my friends, is much better than a virgin widow. A virgin widow at least never had sex with her husband (for whatever reason that she's too traumatized to tell even the omniscient narrator). A half-virgin widow, on the other hand, seems to exist for the sole purpose of giving the misogynist hero something to gloat over quite aside from giving the poor thing her first orgasm.

What is a half-virgin widow, you ask? I have no frakking idea. All I know is that the poor bastard husband must have been hung like a Ken doll. Literally.

Now, is it any wonder I need to take a break and read some quality writing? No. I didn't think so.

In Which I Discovered My New Favorite Heroine.

I would like to take this opportunity to say how truly awesome Annique Villiers is. How awesome is she? SO. FRAKKING. AWESOME.

Having just finished The Spymaster's Lady last night, I should also talk about how I have discovered an author I will look forward to reading for as long as she is writing. That would be Joanna Bourne, creator of Annique Villiers.

We all know I have a weakness for badass heroines (I'm not even going to bother linking. If you don't know, then you don't know), and Annique is representative of a particular favorite: girl spy. Now, not only is she a girl spy, but she is also a girl spy in Napoleonic France. And oh holy hell is that badass awesome.

Starting with a neat little opening twist (which I will not spoil in any way, shape, or form... it's too cool to be spoiled) and ending with several more (seriously... twists abound), The Spymaster's Lady more than lives up to it's name by way of implied intrigues. Yes, the hero is a Spymaster. And yes, the plot is murky and twisty and steeped in spy lore. It's not dense or confusing, but rather constantly moving, shifting through phases of the story with extreme dexterity.

The main focus of the novel is on the heroine, Annique, a Frenchwoman, who speaks English but obviously as a second language (in fact, most of the beginning of the book features all of the characters speaking French, switching only to English when they physically arrive in England). When any given point is made through Annique's perspective, the language barrier remains, not in a condescending way, but in a fantastically clever way. For example, when Annique is playing with her food rather than eating, she decides to stop "annoying the vegetables." It is little phraseology like this which makes The Spymaster's Lady an extreme pleasure to read. You never know what's going to come up next.

Most striking to me is the respect paid to Annique by the other spies (especially her Spymaster, Grey, who turns out to be the English Head of Section for France.) Annique, also known as Fox Cub, is widely known and respected in the spy realm, and the others treat her as such, despite the fact that she is a woman. It was a remarkably refreshing change of pace that she was never accused (seriously) of being a whore, and that all of the men in her life gave her due consideration, not once questioning the limits of her capability. When Headquarters is attacked at the end of the book, Grey doesn't try to shove Annique in a closet (no matter how much he obviously wants to), but uses her as one of the guards to fight within the house, both because he trusts her and he trusts her abilities completely.

I won't (probably) won't bother writing a separate post about how awesome Annique is (oh, who am I kidding... I am totally going to), but I do want to emphasize how totally excited I am to have found her. And how much I can't wait to read what Joanna Bourne is going to come up with next.

In Which We Finally Find Out What Happened with Cat and Leo

YAY CAT AND LEO!

In other words, I also read Married By Morning by Lisa Kleypas this week.

And yes, it has been a very good week. But let's not all get too excited about my prodigiousness, shall we?

As some of you may remember (or may be trying very hard to forget), I finished Tempt Me At Twilight in October (in the sun, in the mountains... sigh) which ended with a helluva cliffhanger: the ever contentious Leo and Cat having a confrontation about "what happened."

Married By Morning begins with the "what happened" and progresses from there, revealing to the world the relationship between Cat and Harry Rutledge (the hero of the last book... they're brother and sister) (Oops. I mean SPOILER ALERT), and sending Cat and Leo down the inevitable road of foreplay, arguing, and Happily Ever After.

I love the Hathaway family, I love the world they live in, and I love the way they tie into all kinds of other books (spun-off from the Wallflowers, which themselves spun-off from Again the Magic, one of my favorite Kleypas books). I have to say, though, that at no time was I excited about this book. Sure, I finished it in about 24 hours (including work and Scout arguing time), but it wasn't because I was hell-bent on finishing it. It was solid and quick to read, and it was good. Bland, plain old good. Like a favorite recipe you can rely on to save the evening meal.

It called forth for me several better Kleypas books (prostitution from Someone to Watch Over Me, assault and lechery from Dreaming of You), and in the end, matched none of its influential predecessors for sheer sighworthy-isn't-that-wonderfulness.

The next book is presumably (hopefully?) the last book in the sequence-- the youngest Hathaway daughter Beatrix will be Love(d) in the Afteroon at the end of this month, and presumably by someone working at the zoo where Leo is supervising the expansion of the ape house. Once again, inevitable.

Which might be a big part of The Problem. Nothing is surprising about Kleypas' books anymore-- her historicals, anyway. Everything is pretty paint-by-numbers, and though there is nothing wrong with them, their infinite readability is not what will win their places on the Keeper Shelf.

In the same way that I hope Tessa Dare does not expand into paranormals, I hope Lisa Kleypas will refocus on her contemporaries. Those have been fresh, exciting and consistently surprising. And if making those a priority brings a fresh eye to (later!) historicals, I would welcome them even more.

In Which I Read a Book Yesterday (woot!)

In other words, it was a very good day, and I miraculously had time on my hands! Also, I stayed up until two in the morning.

One Dance with a Duke is the fourth book by Tessa Dare, and the first in a new trilogy that whose books will be released one right after another in May, June and July. I could write a whole entry about why I think this is an awesome plan to release books, but perhaps another time. The same thing was done with her previous trilogy, Goddess of the Hunt, Surrender of a Siren, and A Lady of Persuasion.

This newest book is rather quiet, with a story revolving around a murder, something called The Stud Club (yes, even the characters laugh at that), and some family issues that are making a new, delicate marriage even more fragile than it already is.

We begin when Amelia D'Orsay is at a ball, waiting with others for the elusive Duke of Midnight to show up and choose his dance partner for the evening. When Amelia finds out that her brother is in debt to the man, she chooses the Duke herself in order to persuade him to forgive the debt.

Things get complicated from there-- something about rings and the aforementioned Stud Club, and a horse who is pretty damn excellent. None of this really mattered to me beyond introducing the heroes and one of the heroines of the next two books.

The key, as with all Tessa Dare books I have experienced so far, is the romance itself. Amelia and the Duke, Spencer, are a great couple who fight, love, and communicate pretty damn well with one another. There is not really any Big Misunderstanding, though Spencer has to overcome Amelia's initial misgivings about his character (which turn out to be pretty close to accurate) and Amelia has to grow up and accept realities about certain members of her family.

This conflict is striking to me because while perfectly logical in the historical context, it is also an all-too relatable conflict for newly weds in "this day and age." The new marriage thing is rocky, and a new balance has to be established by everyone: the people in the marriage, as well as the members of their respective families.

In the end I am really looking forward to the next two books (Twice Tempted by a Rogue on deck), but especially the third one (that would be Three Nights with a Scoundrel) featuring the sister of the man murdered in this book and the low-born "scoundrel" member of the Stud Club (it's OK to keep snorting).

Tessa Dare is one of my favorite new authors, and is showing as much promise as Kresley Cole did in her early days (can you say "awesome first novel attempt"?), I just really, really hope she doesn't delve into paranormals. Really, really, a lot.

In Which I Finally Finished Never Love A Lawman

Well, it only took a month (possibly my busiest since January which, as some of you might know, was beset by the Sundance Film Festival), but I finally finished Never Love a Lawman.

And boy oh boy, was it worth every second.

I think I'll begin with the marriage of convenience that was anything but (aren't they all?) and was simply a pleasure to read. Wyatt Cooper and Rachel Bailey genuinely liked each other before they were married, even if they drove each other insane (don't they always?). What was striking was the sheer number of things that could/should have caused a Big Misunderstanding that didn't. At all.

Wyatt was previously married and was in love with his wife. In fact, he was rather heartbroken by her death. Was he dwelling on it? No. And did Rachel have a self-esteem flagellating "I'm not as good as her" pity party? No. When the story opens, Wyatt is in the middle of a session with the local whore. Seriously. He's noticing Rachel walk down the street from the balcony of the local brothel. Does Rachel find out about this encounter? Yes. Does she pitch a jealous hissy fit? No. Does Wyatt have anything but the business-friendliest intentions for Rose the madam? Not at all. Especially when she's so wildly in love with his deputy. Also, the villain eventually shows up in town and refers to Rachel as a "whore" multiple times. Does Wyatt ever for a second doubt his lady and her story? Nope.

So we have a historical couple who have a very mature, very enlightened (but not out-of-period) relationship. They live in a town inhabited by lovely, funny, good-hearted people. The aforementioned deputy, whose name is Will, is always referred to as "that no-account Beatty boy" by every character who references him. The town whores (of whom there are many) are not evil or shady... they even marry the townsmen (when they are good and ready). Abe Dishman proposes to Rachel every month on or about the 5th, and so everyone in town knows to pay close attention to see how she will reject him this time.

The plot and conflict are complex but not overly complicated, nor do they dominate the story unduly. Once again, this is a story about characters, and it is the characters who shine through. They are multi-dimensional, interesting, and by the time the story was finished I found myself considering them all my friends. Well, except for Foster Maddox, the douchebag villain. But yes, I was even a little in love with that no account Beatty boy.

I have purchased another of Jo Goodman's books for further wonderful reading, but I have to move on for the moment.

Next up: Nicole Lasseter (yet another red-head with a passion for the open sea. I can't explain it.)

Next book: One Dance With a Duke by Tessa Dare. How excited am I? SO EXCITED. And you know you are too.