Romance, Historical, Contemporary, Paranormal, Young Adult, Book reviews, industry news, and commentary from a reader's point of view

About Willaful

Willaful fell in love with romance novels at an early age, but ruthlessly suppressed the passion for years, while grabbing onto any crumbs of romance to be found in other genres. She finally gave in and started reading romance again in 2006, and has been trying to catch up with the entire genre ever since. Look for her on twitter or at her blog at www.willaful.wordpress.com

Posts by Willaful :

REVIEW:  The Suffragette Scandal by Courtney Milan

REVIEW: The Suffragette Scandal by Courtney Milan

17343236

Dear Ms. Milan:

It seems very apt that the last book in the Brothers Sinister series is being promoted with a funny tumblr written by one of its characters, because it feels like a book that sprang from the Internet. I’m honestly not sure if that’s a complaint or a compliment. I’ve admired how previous Milan books work still current themes into historical fiction in a plausible way — the bullying in Unlocked, for example — yet  at times I’ve felt like I’m seeing behind the curtain too much. That definitely happened here, yet I was so utterly charmed with the book overall, I’m trying to work out a way in which I can rationalize my discomfort.

If I recall correctly, we first met Frederica Marshall — Free — in The Heiress Effect. Through her brother Oliver’s eyes, she was depicted as young, idealistic and naively fearless, liable to get herself into serious trouble. Then it became clear that she has educated herself well, knows what she’s doing as a champion for social justice, and is perfectly willing to get into trouble for the good of her cause. The Free of this story, set ten years later, hasn’t changed much: she’s now the editor of the Women’s Free Press, and a investigate reporter. (She’s in a privileged position to do this, as the sister of an MP who’s the brother of a Duke: her undercover work is certainly dangerous and traumatic, but she can count on rescue when she needs it.) Her visibility makes her a constant target for hate, and she’s no longer fearless, but she conquers her fear by thinking about the agoraphobic woman she was named for. (See The Governess Affair.)

Free is approached by Edward Clark who, unbeknownst to her, is the presumed-dead brother of a ruling class man who’s been harassing her. Edward’s primary goal is to watch out for an old friend also targeted by his brother, Free’s employee Stephen Shaugnessy. (Author of the satirical “Ask a Man” column.) But he’s also very attracted to Free, and soon discovers she needs his specialized assistance even more than Stephen does. The traditional hero for an idealistic heroine is a cynical bad boy, and unusually for this series, that’s what we get in Edward. He’s a liar, a forger, and a thief; as he pointedly comments to Free’s brother Oliver, “Keep your brotherhood of left-handed do-gooders, Marshall. Your sister needs a man who is actually sinister.” Free, who is very much nobody’s fool, takes some time to trust Edward, but once she does, her trust is absolute and warranted:

His mouth was hard and desperate, lips opening to hers. The unshaven stubble on his cheeks brushed her. It made the kiss all that more complex — so sweet, so lovely. She’d wanted this — wanted him — for weeks, and now she didn’t need to hold back.

Still, she set one hand on his chest and gave a light push. “Wait.”

He stopped instantly, pulling away. “What is it?”

She laugh and dropped her voice to mimic his. “‘A trustworthy man would never do this.’ Oh, yes, Mr. Clark. Look how untrustworthy you are. You stopped kissing me the instant I asked you to do it.”

Edward’s cynicism is based on a very hard life, and he’s particularly contemptuous of do-gooders, because his own attempts in that line failed so spectacularly.

“… you’re delusional if you think you can accomplish anything. You’re pitting yourself against an institution that is older than our country, Miss Marshall. It’s so old that we rarely even need speak of it. Rage all you want, Miss Marshall, but you’ll have more success emptying the Thames with a thimble.”

He touched a finger to his forehead in mock salute, as if tipping a hat. As if she’d just departed the land of reality, and he wished her a pleasant journey.

[...]

“You’re right about all of that. If history is any guide, it will take years — decades, perhaps — before women get the vote. As for the rest of it, I imagine that any woman who manages to stand out will be a target for abuse. She always is.”

His eyes crinkled in confusion.

“What I don’t understand it why you think you need to lecture me about this all. I run a newspaper for women. Do you imagine that nobody has ever written to me to explain precisely what you just said? [...] Do you suppose I’ve never been told that I’m upset because I am menstruating? That I would calm down if only some man would put a child in my belly? Usually, the person writing offers to help out with that very task. [...] Do you think I don’t know that the only tool I have is my thimble? I’m the one wielding it. I know.”

Free explains to Edward that her work is about women, not about men, and that what he sees as a futile emptying of the Thames, she sees as watering flowers and making them bloom. I wish I could quote this entire scene, because it’s so wise and lovely. And it sets the stage for a tender romance. Free is too smart to give in to her initial attraction to the unscrupulous Edward, but as time goes on she realizes that he always, always has her back, and she sees that he’s her match:

She could see herself with Mr. Clark at some point in the future — an old married couple sitting on a porch in summer, holding hands and reminiscing over past times.

Do you remember the time you blackmailed me?

Yes, dear. You blackmailed me right back. It was the sweetest thing. I knew then we were meant for each other.

The con-man in Edward is equally thrilled by Free’s intelligence, and the caring person beneath his cynicism is drawn to her positive insights:

“…every time you talk you turn my world upside down.” His smile was tight and weary.
“You’re wrong again. The world started out upside down. I’m just trying to set it right side up.”
“Either way gives me the most astonishing vertigo.”

I loved seeing the experience, intelligence, and bravery of a genuine social activist, a role usually treated with, at best, condescension in romance. Edward is a bit more of a type — the tortured man who doesn’t feel good enough for the heroine — but he’s so sweetly drawn, he doesn’t feel like a cliche. They’re both very appealing, and the yearning between them is a delicious, bittersweet ache. I felt that both begun to act out of character in the second half of the book — Free doing something outrageously foolish, Edward feeling cowed — but I suppose it can be justified as the effects of love. (Though I did find the lack of any discussion about birth control or disease prevention just wrong; Free would be very much aware of these issues.)

I was more bothered by moments that really took me out of the story, like Free’s suggestion for an article, “Won’t someone think of the dukes?” I think the book is very deliberately drawing on current issues for women, particularly online — such as the letters Free mentions above, and the fact that a man has a vicious vendetta against her simply because she refused to be his mistress. This all seems quite plausible. But there are a few places in which the book reads to me like its tumblr account — that is, a modern element being jokingly forced into a Victorian mold. And as with A Kiss for Midwinter and its long discourse on the true nature of the hymen, the story sometimes felt self-conscious. One of Free’s assistants helps by telling them when their writing is “condescending to women who knew the confines of their station better than they did” –I may be wrong, but from what I know of the history of feminism, this seems like wishful thinking.

I did find a rationalization: the book may be a bit of a historical fantasy, but in a genre so filled with disturbing fantasy elements, why not embrace those with a deliberately subversive and feminist slant? But the real truth is, I just liked it tremendously, and so am willing to overlook the parts that I found jarring.

Although there’s still a novella coming — an interracial romance featuring the charming Stephen Shaugnessy (Actual Man) — this has the feel of a series wrap up. Robert finally gets to know his half-brother Oliver’s other family, long a heartfelt wish, and there’s a secondary romance for Jane’s friend Genevieve (now her secretary) and Violet’s lonely niece Amanda (one of Free’s assistants.) The end is a sentimental treat for readers of the series, so although this could stand alone, you’ll probably enjoy it even more if you’ve followed the others. B+

Sincerely,
Willaful

AmazonBNKoboAREBook DepositoryGoogle

REVIEW:  Have Mercy by Shelley Ann Clark

REVIEW: Have Mercy by Shelley Ann Clark

20442926

Dear Ms. Clark:

I don’t normally include the book blurb in my reviews, but in this case, it seems significant.

In Shelley Ann Clark’s seductive debut novel, two damaged souls discover that when they’re together, their bodies hit all the right notes.

Rock diva Emme Hayes already broke up one band after sleeping with the lead singer, and she swears she won’t let sex screw things up again. The problem is, her new bass player—a lean, muscular, tattooed mystery man who makes her want to demand his absolute attention—has her so worked up she can hardly carry a tune. Emme promises he’s off-limits. She just doesn’t know how she’ll be able to confine the heat to her love songs.

The moment Tom McKinney lays eyes on Emme strutting around the stage of his blues bar—all curves, eye liner, and teased blond hair—he knows she’s one of a kind. So when she offers him a two-month paid gig to tour with her band, Tom can’t say no, despite family troubles and the bar’s precarious finances. Onstage and off, the music they make thrums in his soul, but Tom has too much going on to get involved—even if he burns to let Emme play his body like a fine-tuned instrument.

I don’t think this marketing is doing the book many favors. If you’re looking for rock star excess and majorly fucked up people, you’re not going to find it (not in the main characters, anyway.) More importantly, there’s only the tiniest hint that this involves a specific erotic subgenre, femdom, when there’s no narrative reason to keep that a secret. This is an area in which surprises tend to backfire; I hope that doesn’t happen, because I liked the book a lot.

Emme’s singing career is on the rise, but no matter how conscientious and professional she is — which is very — scandal still dogs her. When she decides to hire bassist Tom for a tour, her bandmate Dave is uneasy; he senses an attraction between them, and he’s never forgiven Emme for being “a drama magnet.” Also, Tom is known for having to frequently bail his alcoholic sister out of trouble. Emme is undeniably attracted to Tom, with his strong hands, and forearms that flex while he plays, but she swears that it’ll work: “I promise I won’t seduce the new bass player. I’ll make him promise his sister won’t cause problems for us.” As you might guess, neither of these promises can be kept.

This story hit a lot of my happy spots, with exhilarating depictions of creative people who are passionate about their art:

Tom’s nerves coalesced into adrenaline as he played, the sheer joy of making with a talented group of people. He could hear them including himself through the monitors and god damn, they sounded good.[..] By time time the song ended, the notes had wound around them all, the tiny communications coming as second nature; slowing the tempo when Emme nodded, holding a note a little longer with a look from Dave.

The relationship between the bandmates also feels real. There are tensions and conflicts, but also the strength of a long, intimate knowledge of each other.

But I think I loved the sex scenes most of all — which is good, because there’s a lot of them. Both characters are almost newbies to dominance and submission (Tom has some limited experience) and they’re a little tentative, but so excited and joyful as they figure out how it works for them.

‘Okay,’ Tom said, his voice barely more than a brush of breath against her cheek.

‘Good, sugar.’ Tom leaned into her body with the praise, nudging against her warmth. It felt so sweet, the way he nearly melted into her. ‘Now take your cock out.’

The buzz of power was back, her palms tingling, sense sharpening. She could feel Tom’s body responding beside her, his muscles tending, feel the reverberation of his low hum in her own chest.

There isn’t much in the way of formal negotiation or education, but Emme is careful about paying attention to Tom’s physical signals, and proceeds very cautiously when they move into sparking with a belt. (This, and some public play, is as hardcore as it gets; their main form of play is teasing.) Both of their points of view are strongly depicted and sympathetic. I did think that the move from attraction to BDSM happened too fast: in one scene Tom and Emme are making out in the back of the van, and in the next she’s ordering him around, feeling positive that he’ll do exactly what she tells him. The book isn’t all that long and could have used more transitions. But the emotional aspects are so good; it’s the kind of writing that can make any kink seem hot, just because the characters are enjoying themselves so much.

(Tangentially, I’m starting to sympathize with those who are annoyed by the lack of experienced female doms in erotic romance. I enjoy reading about newbies because the process is interesting and they’re allowed to show some vulnerability — at least if they’re women — but for someone seriously into femdom, it must get old.)

Although the sexual journey is integral to the romance, the personal journeys and relationship conflicts are also a strong point. This isn’t exactly the NA story the cover seems to promise, since Tom and Emme are definitely mature adults, but the problems aren’t that dissimilar: Emme is dealing with sexist and unjust slut shaming, and Tom is weighed down by family pressures that keep him from living the life he really wants. (I also suspect Tom might have ADHD, but if so, it’s not a plot point.) Their solutions are adult solutions, involving thought and honesty; Tom’s story is deeply sad, but couldn’t really happen any other way. I did think the very end gets a bit cheesy and over the top, but it also felt right for there to be a climactic moment for this couple, celebrating their new chance for happiness.

This is a promising debut, and I think it’d be a great place to start for someone curious about femdom romance. I hope it finds its audience. B

Sincerely,

Willaful

AmazonBNSonyKoboAREBook DepositoryGoogle