Obviously this was only possible because of his paranormal nature.

I remember reading that first scene in the book and thinking, “oh, I’m going to hate this book,” but by page 50 or so, I was completely sucked in. Everyone has her own line as to what’s too much in a hero. As I said below, I have a real problem with some of the bullying heroes in Romancelandia who, while they might never physically harm the heroine, are autocratic, nonetheless, and remain that way, with the heroine either learning how to “handle them” or humor them. That makes some women feel cherished and protected — it makes me feel claustrophobic. Objectively speaking, I think it’s clear that Campbell’s book is NOT endorsing rape. Subjectively, though, how readers respond to it will vary — obviously. I didn’t ever fall in love with Justin, myself, but I understood why he and Verity were together, which was enough for me to like the book.

Oh, interesting. I did read A Hunger Like No Other and liked it very much. I thought Cole very deftly navigated the opening third, so that the hero, while extremely aggressive, did not cross the line (for me). I also think the paranormal aspects—their mate bond, his Lychae nature—allowed their relationship to develop as it did.

The reason I could accept the hero’s behaviour in the first third of the book was because he had been burnt alive for the past hundred years or so. (I think it was a hundred going on memory). He was clearly not in his right mind, and he did sever his own leg.

Obviously this was only possible because of his paranormal nature.

My favorite is also Behind Closed Doors, though I vividly remember the biker story and I enjoyed Out of Control. What fascinates me with McKenna is that in another author’s hands I swear I wouldn’t like the books, let alone read them, but when she writes, I am riveted. (I can’t get any more specific than that, because I don’t remember the details now. It’s been a while. I’ll have to pick up another McKenna at some point, though.)

Yes, though in another book, those threats could be enough to turn me off.

I just realized that A Hunger Like No Other reminded me of some of Shannon McKenna’s work—and she does write contemporary. So, it all depends.

I agree with you on the threats thing. As for Shannon McKenna, interesting catch. She wrote one short story about a biker guy, and a friend of mine refers to that as the “mask of civilization” story, because McKenna seems to be playing with women’s desire for the “bad boy,” and on what actually happens when you get a “real” bad boy who has had the “mask of civilization” stripped off. That so many women really want the bad boy without all the darkness that in real life often goes along with that.

As for her long works, I was so impressed when I read her first book, Behind Closed Doors, because — as someone who generally reads Romance for the heroine– she had given Seth this amazing, IMO, inner voice. None of her later books have been able to compete with BCC for me, and even in that book I wanted to kick Seth in the balls quite a few times. That was one of those books where I did not find the bullying particularly romantic, but I understood it, and I think it was a dynamic that actually forced Raine to stand up for herself. But generally speaking, I tend to recoil from the scenario of the bullying hero who breaks down the sexually inhibited heroine so that she can finally get her rocks off. At least in BCC, McKenna shows us how harrowing it is for Raine, especially at the beginning, when she feels like she’s completely in over her head and Seth is taking out on her all sorts of things that have nothing to do with her. I vascillate, though, between seeing that book as a heinous example of the bullying guy as “hero,” and as an insightful take on that same dynamic as in the biker guy story. I don’t know — maybe it’s both. I haven’t even read her latest because a friend told me that too many terrible things happen to the heroine, and that’s a really hard one for me to get past.

Hmm, you guys are making me want to read this book, and I didn’t have much interest in it before.

Same here. I didn’t have any interest in it, actually, but this review intrigued me.

Cole’s book really got me thinking about how the not quite human aspects of Lachlain and Emma seemed to change the terms. In a way, I think that becomes a psychological buffer

I guess. However, these different terms can also allow me to believe in the healing of a character, when I wouldn’t believe that someone could get past long years of being brutalized in a comtemporary situation. The paranormal, when handled right, helps me suspend my disbelief in a lot of situations.

Cole’s book worked for me, too, but it was because all the threats never panned out.

Yes, though in another book, those threats could be enough to turn me off.

I just realized that A Hunger Like No Other reminded me of some of Shannon McKenna’s work—and she does write contemporary. So, it all depends.

I thought Cole very deftly navigated the opening third, so that the hero, while extremely aggressive, did not cross the line (for me). I also think the paranormal aspects—their mate bond, his Lychae nature—allowed their relationship to develop as it did.

I’m feeling too lazy to log back into this site as Janet, but I wanted to respond to your point here, Jorrie. Cole’s book really got me thinking about how the not quite human aspects of Lachlain and Emma seemed to change the terms. In a way, I think that becomes a psychological buffer, much like the “in the past” of historical Romances does. Because we know as we’re reading that it’s all a construct — that the rules are created by the author and not by some incontrovertible natural law — but it definitely seems to ease the effect, doesn’t it? I think that’s why I completely understand why readers can stomach rape in historical Romances more easily, even though I don’t think it’s more “historically accurate.” Clearly we need something to make it feel less *real*, I guess I’d say, in order not to be completely outraged. Cole’s book worked for me, too, but it was because all the threats never panned out. Had Campbell not made it clear that Justin was wrong, wrong, wrong, I would not have made it through the book, I imagine. Because surprisingly, perhaps, I am not a big fan of rape or forced seduction in Romance, even though both tropes are really interesting to me on an intellectual level.

The book CTC actually reminded me of the most, at least through the first half, was Kresley Cole’s A Hunger Like No Other, which also featured a pretty angry (and Scottish) hero who wanted to punish the heroine by kidnapping and sexually dominating her. But in the case of the Cole book, by the time the two actually have full-on intercourse, they’re strongly connected to each other, emotionally and physically, and it’s clearly not rape. Similar dynamics early on, though.

Oh, interesting. I did read A Hunger Like No Other and liked it very much. I thought Cole very deftly navigated the opening third, so that the hero, while extremely aggressive, did not cross the line (for me). I also think the paranormal aspects—their mate bond, his Lychae nature—allowed their relationship to develop as it did. If it were contemporary, say, I don’t think I could have bought such almost-abusive, barely-in-control behavior. The paranormal allowed for circumstances that would not be available in “real" life.

Ahem, that was me posting just so I could read the comments. :D

Jorrie: It’s funny you should mention THATH, which is one of my most favorite books in the genre. I almost put a sentence in the review that CTC didn’t have the depth or the subtlety for me that THATH did, but IMO Campbell is definitely closer to Gaffney than to many, many, many, many, many other authors who use the rape/FS trope in Romance. The book CTC actually reminded me of the most, at least through the first half, was Kresley Cole’s A Hunger Like No Other, which also featured a pretty angry (and Scottish) hero who wanted to punish the heroine by kidnapping and sexually dominating her. But in the case of the Cole book, by the time the two actually have full-on intercourse, they’re strongly connected to each other, emotionally and physically, and it’s clearly not rape. Similar dynamics early on, though.

I am reminded of Pat Gaffney’s To Have and To Hold, though perhaps they have nothing in common? THaTH was a very good book, despite the fact that I could never see the hero as the hero after he forced the heroine. (Obviously I have forgotten their names.)

I will say that it does give the impression thatt the author is actually exploring what a truly tortured hero might do, whereas in much romance—romance that I enjoy—a tortured hero is still bounded by morals that have not been affected by his dark past.