Author's Note: I have been sitting on this review for like, 2 months. No joke. Time to brush off the dust.
Over Memorial Day weekend, SmartBitch Sarah was talking of little else than Courtney Milan’s self-published e-novella, Unlocked. There are all kinds of political and logistical reasons this novella is self-published (and only in e-format), and while they are very, very interesting, they really mean nothing to me at this stage.
What meant something to me was the fact that it was supposed to be (and is!) a damn fine book. Er, novella.
We all know how I feel about digital reading (Brief recap for the non-initiated: I like to collect the books. Actual books, not digital files. That is all.), so I bought the e-book and sat on it until one day I was at Scout Camp, had finished the one book I had brought with me, and needed to kill some time.
And oh, what a way to kill some time.
Lady Elaine Warren has been the laughingstock of the ton for about ten years. This is mainly because Evan Carlton, Lord Westfeld, made her the laughingstock, mocking her mercilessly during her first season and encouraging others to do the same. Her obnoxious laugh was the main source of amusement, but also subject to ridicule was/is her mother, a highly intelligent but highly scatterbrained, terribly naive woman.
The story takes place in the “ten years later” part, with Evan returning from a really long sojourn mountain climbing in Chamonix. The reason he left? Well... he was in love with Elaine. Madly, wildly, passionately in love with her. But he was 19. And a bit of a douchebag. And he started making fun of her to a) get her attention and b) put people off of the fact that he wanted her so desperately. The moment he realized that he had gotten her attention in all of the wrongest of ways, he fled.
After meeting up at a house party, Evan immediately starts to make amends. He apologizes to Elaine. He publicly shows the utmost respect to her mother. And then he publicly declares his love for Elaine in front of all of her worst tormentors.
Miraculously, as the reader, you like and believe Evan. It’s not like he comes back and then is confronted with everything he’s done that makes him realize he’s an asshole, he already knows. When he walks in to the ballroom for the first time and sees Elaine, his first thought is only to try to make amends and come to terms with the consequences of his actions.
For her part, Elaine doesn’t trust him (uh... duh), but agrees to a friendship that blossoms in to something more (uh... duh).
This is a quick read, but I would in no way classify it as light or insubstantial. This is a full-fledged romance in novella form, one of the only ones I have ever read that didn’t leave me feeling cheated or yearning for more. The length of this story is exactly right. We get everything we need from the evolution of the relationship (including hot sex) without feeling rushed. There is a sense of history established between Evan and Elaine that you believe from the first minute. And nothing about Elaine’s (SPOILER? No. I mean, honestly...) eventual capitulation feels forced.
I loved this story. So get over your e-book prejudices and go buy it, mmmk?
15 September 2011
5 September 2011
In Which Monday Menu Mayhem Bounces Back
YOU GUYS.
There are explanations to be made involving travelling for work, moving (Hello, Scout Camp!) having one day out of fourteen to get settled after moving, and then an epic hurricane that knocked out power to everyone I know for at least 3 days.
But explanations are boring, and I have a feeling you didn't notice one way or another that this blog has been shockingly void of new material since July (!!).
So let's just get right back in to it, shall we?
And, starting back on the right foot, I of course have no photo to offer of the Ten-Hour Chicken I made for Ma, Pa, and Baby Bro Jones on this glorious Labor Day.
I do, however, have an explanation.
It's a Gwyneth concoction, and it's actually the second time I've made it: you squeeze a half a lemon over each end (front/back, top/bottom, whatever you want to call it) of the chicken, then thoroughly salt-and-pepper the whole thing. Stuff the lemon halves and 3-4 cloves of garlic into the chicken, put it in the pan, and put another 3-4-5 cloves of garlic in the pan, seal tightly with foil, then cook at 200 for nine and a half hours. At the nine and a half hour mark, you pump the oven up to 400, remove the foil, re-salt-and-pepper, and chuck back in the oven for 15-20 minutes, or until the skin reaches desired brownth.
This is some of the best chicken I've ever eaten. The foil seal and slow cook keeps all of the moisture in, and all of that lemon and garlic infuses in to every square inch of the chicken. Additionally, the juice that ends up at the bottom of the pan makes for (literally) effortlessly delicious gravy.
The original recipe calls for the chicken to be cooked breast-side down for the nine and a half hours, and then flipped when the browning needs to occur. We tried this the first time, and the problem becomes that after nine and a half hours, the chicken falls the frak apart. In a great way. In a glorious way. In a way that makes it impossible to be flipped intact.
Make this chicken, friends. Make it right side up, and enjoy every bite.
There are explanations to be made involving travelling for work, moving (Hello, Scout Camp!) having one day out of fourteen to get settled after moving, and then an epic hurricane that knocked out power to everyone I know for at least 3 days.
But explanations are boring, and I have a feeling you didn't notice one way or another that this blog has been shockingly void of new material since July (!!).
So let's just get right back in to it, shall we?
And, starting back on the right foot, I of course have no photo to offer of the Ten-Hour Chicken I made for Ma, Pa, and Baby Bro Jones on this glorious Labor Day.
I do, however, have an explanation.
It's a Gwyneth concoction, and it's actually the second time I've made it: you squeeze a half a lemon over each end (front/back, top/bottom, whatever you want to call it) of the chicken, then thoroughly salt-and-pepper the whole thing. Stuff the lemon halves and 3-4 cloves of garlic into the chicken, put it in the pan, and put another 3-4-5 cloves of garlic in the pan, seal tightly with foil, then cook at 200 for nine and a half hours. At the nine and a half hour mark, you pump the oven up to 400, remove the foil, re-salt-and-pepper, and chuck back in the oven for 15-20 minutes, or until the skin reaches desired brownth.
This is some of the best chicken I've ever eaten. The foil seal and slow cook keeps all of the moisture in, and all of that lemon and garlic infuses in to every square inch of the chicken. Additionally, the juice that ends up at the bottom of the pan makes for (literally) effortlessly delicious gravy.
The original recipe calls for the chicken to be cooked breast-side down for the nine and a half hours, and then flipped when the browning needs to occur. We tried this the first time, and the problem becomes that after nine and a half hours, the chicken falls the frak apart. In a great way. In a glorious way. In a way that makes it impossible to be flipped intact.
Make this chicken, friends. Make it right side up, and enjoy every bite.
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