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


REVIEW:  The Ruin of a Rogue by Miranda Neville

REVIEW: The Ruin of a Rogue by Miranda Neville

Dear Ms. Neville,

Last summer, while in the midst of a reading slump, I tried to read The Ruin of a Rogue. I think I got about two and half chapters in before I gave up. Since I don’t usually care for con artist characters and hadn’t yet come to know and like the hero, who schemed to seduce an inexperienced heiress and either marry her for her money or allow himself to be bought off by her guardian, it was hard for me to stay engaged.

ruinofarogueStill, I have enjoyed your books in the past, and you have a new book in the same series coming out on June 24th of this year, titled Lady Windermere’s Lover. I wanted to try it, but since I hate reading out of order, I decided to give The Ruin of a Rogue a second chance.

Happily, by this time my reading slump was over. Even more happily, this time I found that while the beginning didn’t engage me as much as what came later, I was able to enjoy this section for its amusing humor.

The year is 1800 and Anne Brotherton, “granddaughter and heiress to the last Earl of Camber,” is much pursued by fortune hunters. Among them is Marcus Lithgow, a gamester and adventurer who plans to go about his fortune hunting more cleverly than the rest. To that end, he has read up on antiquities, Anne Brotherton’s passion, and has learned enough to appear knowledgeable on the subject.

Marcus first engages Anne in conversation during a social occasion by discussing their host’s small Greek and Roman figures which have caught the heiress’ attention. Anne, whose fortune is controlled by her strict guardian, has been warned against fortune hunters and she is cautious.

But when Marcus mentioned a book on the subject of antiquities found in Bath, Anne decides to search out the volume. She fails to find it, and Marcus, who has “accidentally” bumped into Anne at the circulating library, offers to accompany her to a bookstore where he has seen the book.

The bookstore is in a seedy neighborhood and Marcus has given the book to its owner and paid him to sell it to Anne. He also pays the driver of a cart to very nearly run them over on their way out, so that Marcus can “rescue” Anne and hold her close.

The trouble is, Marcus likes Anne. He wouldn’t even mind being forced to marry her. His plan is to let her guardian buy him off since it’s doubtful the guardian would allow such a marriage. Marcus, whose father has taught him cons, generally prefers to gain money by winning honestly at card games, but he is in the middle of the worst losing streak of his gambling career and he dislikes cheating.

Even a letter from his dead father, claiming to have left Marcus hidden riches at his uncle’s estate, fails to convince Marcus to change course. An heiress’s fortune is far more reliable than Marcus’s dishonest father, and Anne is beginning to fall for Marcus.

But one day, Anne is in the garden of her chaperone Lady Windermere’s house when Marcus is visiting a friend next door. Despite oblique warnings from her cousin Caro, and additional ones from Lady Windermere, Anne has all but decided to run off with Marcus and evade the boring marriage her guardian wants her to enter when Marcus and his host, the Duke of Denford, step into the neighboring garden, and Anne overhears Marcus boast of his success at bamboozling her.

On hearing Marcus describe her as a “spoiled heiress,” Anne decides to bamboozle him—and show him how a spoiled heiress would really behave.

Just how bad a time will Anne give Marcus? And how will Marcus react? Will they find his father’s hidden treasure? Will they find something even more valuable in each other? And will Anne make an honest man out of Marcus in more than just the figurative sense?

I’ve said in the past that I find your characters charming because they have flaws and foibles and vulnerabilities. Generally speaking, your characters goodhearted people but they make human mistakes.

Marcus starts out more self-serving than most of them, and at first I was a little bored by that. I prefer to feel invested in a character’s fate right away, but initially Marcus was neither awful enough to be reluctantly fascinating, nor likeable enough for me to care if he got his heiress.

Fortunately as I continued reading I began to understand why. Marcus had a moral compass, but it was a bit rusty, and he didn’t always go in the direction in which it pointed. This had much to do with his upbringing—his father spent Marcus’ formative years up to no good, and not above using his adorable child to reel in women whom he would later fleece.

What helped me like Marcus was that I began to see that he wasn’t happy with the life he led. He envied honest people their lives, but he didn’t believe he could be one of them. Still, secretly part of him wished he could, and eventually he started believing that it might be possible.

I greatly appreciated the fact that Marcus didn’t change his stripes for Anne—ultimately he did it for himself. Anne served as an incentive and a source of encouragement, but it was at least as much the case that she allowed her attraction to Marcus to grow when she saw evidence that Marcus wanted to be better than the choices he’d made in the past.

The seeds of Marcus’ transformation were there before he ever met Anne. That is what I consider a redemption story done right.

Anne herself is in some ways harder to sum up than Marcus. A high concept character like Marcus whose arc involves putting aside the temptation to win money unscrupulously in order to live a life of personal integrity is easy to describe, but on paper Anne, an inexperienced girl who has no control over her fortune, sounds like a hundred other heroines, though in reality she stands out.

Here’s what I appreciated about Anne: she wasn’t foolhardy, and she didn’t lack a sense of self preservation—or lack sense more generally. She started out cautious, and even when she first became infatuated with Marcus, she thought to marry him in order to escape marriage to another man to whom she wasn’t attracted. She wasn’t rushing into a disastrous situation for no reason other than infatuation.

Later, once she figured out what Marcus was up to, she became even more cautious. She got her revenge on Marcus, and if it was a little mean and inconsiderate, it was also no less than he deserved, and later she apologized for the effects her own con had on his situation.

The more I read, the more my respect for Anne grew. She was smart enough to have insights into Marcus’ character—to see his flaws and his strengths. And when she began to allow herself to trust him, she knew she risked her heart and she also knew what she was risking it for.

The secondary characters enhanced the book, especially Marcus’ droll valet, Travis, whose life Marcus had saved and who had adopted Marcus as a result. Later in the book, Caro and Thomas from The Importance of Being Wicked appear, and some loose ends from their own book that pertained to Marcus are wrapped up in this one.

The steaminess level is not what I’m used to from most of your books—this one was hotter and I’m still trying to decide how I feel about that. It’s hard to articulate, but Marcus and Anne were so real to me that as with Caro and Thomas in The Importance of Being Wicked, I felt a bit like I was intruding on their privacy.

The Ruin of a Rogue has the same light feel as your earlier novels, but like them it also has something to say. It has charm and sweetness, but it’s also satisfying. B/B+



AmazonBNSonyKoboAREBook DepositoryGoogle

REVIEW:  The Heiress Effect by Courtney Milan

REVIEW: The Heiress Effect by Courtney Milan

Dear Ms. Milan,

I’ve enjoyed catching up with your Brothers Sinister series this year despite a persistent reading slump. For this reason, I preordered the newest book in the series, The Heiress Effect, about a month ago. When it popped up on my kindle, I started reading.

The Heiress Effect by Courtney MilanMiss Jane Fairfield has a problem. Or rather, a hundred thousand and four hundred and eighty problems. To repel prospective suitors for the four hundred and eighty days it will take for her younger half sister Emily to reach her majority is no small task, given Jane’s large fortune, which numbers one hundred thousand pounds.

Jane herself is of age, but until her sister reaches her majority, Emily will remain in the dubious care of their guardian, Titus Fairfield, a man who has had Emily subjected to burns and near-drowning, all in the name of “curing” Emily’s seizures. Though Emily’s condition is hardly incapacitating, Titus treats her as a fragile flower in need of sheltering, and does not allow her to leave the house.

It falls to Jane—illegitimate but an heiress thanks to the fortune her biological father left her—to protect her legitimate sibling from Titus’s ministrations. So Jane remains under Titus’ roof and bribes doctors and quacks. She dresses outrageously and acts clueless while insulting any man who might otherwise have wanted to marry her. And she counts. She counts the days until Emily is free.

One day, the Johnson twins, so-called friends of Jane’s who whisper about her behind her back, mention that the gathering at the Marquess of Bradenton’s home to which Jane has been invited will include new guest, Oliver Marshall. Oliver is the illegitimate but acknowledged brother of a duke, and Jane fears he will pursue her for her fortune, so when they meet, she works extra hard at putting him off.

Little does she realize that she is the last woman Oliver would want to marry. Oliver has money that his brother settled on him, but what he really craves is power. Political power. For that he needs a less obtrusive wife, someone who would be viewed as a credit to him and would help people forget that he is illegitimate. This is not something Jane could do.

Oliver’s first impression of Jane is that she is socially completely inept, but well-meaning. When some of the men whom she has insulted as part of her act mock her, Oliver refuses to participate, or to hurt her in any way. He knows too well what it feels like to be an outsider.

But then he receives an offer. The Marquess of Bradenton, a power broker who was gravely humiliated by Jane, asks Oliver to engineer her downfall. In return, Bradenton promises to deliver nine votes, from himself and his friends in the House of Lords, in favor of voting reform, an issue near to Oliver’s heart.

Not only that, but if Oliver does so, Bradenton will also let him be the one who gets the credit for swaying Bradenton’s friends. This will lift Oliver’s political star high enough to eventually net him a seat in Parliament.

Oliver gets a sick feeling in his stomach at Bradenton’s suggestion, because while he would like to refuse, he can’t quite bring himself to do so. His conflict grows when he realizes that Jane’s act is just that—an intentional deception.

Oliver gets to know Jane, and she begins to trust him. When Oliver warns her against doing so, she decides not to listen. Oliver makes her feel less alone, and while Jane may be the “impossible girl” in Oliver’s eyes, he is equally drawn to her.

In addition to Oliver and Jane’s storyline, there are two subplots in the book. One is about Jane’s sister Emily, who sneaks out of the house against her oppressive guardian’s edict, and meets and falls in love with an Indian law student, Anjan Bhattacharya. The other has to do with Oliver’s younger sister Free, and her namesake, his agoraphobic aunt Freddy.

I thoroughly enjoyed The Heiress Effect but before I get into the reasons why, I wanted to mention the stumbling blocks I encountered. Most of these were relatively minor, hopped over easily, but there were several of them.

You have a way of crafting strong and original conflicts. Your plots put the hero and heroine at cross-purposes in unexpected ways, and that is one of the reasons I so appreciate your books. That was the case with this book as well as with the other works in this series.

Perhaps because I am familiar with your other works and you consistently write good guy heroes, though, I didn’t believe that Oliver would actually harm Jane in his quest for the votes Bradenton could deliver. I think the conflict would have felt even stronger if I had.

At the same time, I did believe in Oliver’s desire to fit in, and in the ways this hurt his relationship with Jane. But for this reason, I wanted a bigger grand gesture, sacrifice, or other balancing of the scales by Oliver at the end of the book. This is a redemption story, and the redemptive arc needed to be stronger.

The Emily/Anjan and Free/Freddy subplots were amazing and I loved them, but I felt that the main Oliver/Jane storyline lost a little momentum because of the subplot development. To a degree, the subplots felt more emotionally impactful than the main storyline, but I liked the main storyline a great deal too.

Politics was somewhat idealized by the resolution of the story. The Heiress Effect began with Oliver having to choose between harming one person—Jane—and sacrificing the greater good (a win for democracy by expanding voting rights). But politics is a profession in which you have to be prepared to sacrifice individuals for the greater good, for example sending soldiers to die in wars. If you can’t bring yourself to do that, you may find yourself unable to stomach your profession. There’s no simple solution to this problem, so I wasn’t completely satisfied with the book’s conclusion on that front.

I also felt that the novel tried to dodge a bit of a bullet with Anjan’s character. I loved him and I really felt for him because of the way he had to hide some of who he was to be accepted in England. In this he had something in common with Oliver, but the novel never told us whether he gained the same freedom to be himself at the end that other characters find.

In discussing the book’s premise with Sunita, who has not read it, I learned that Anjan’s last name indicates that he belongs to a high caste (Brahmin). It is very unlikely that someone in his position would have married an English woman, especially in 1867, although it is possible. It is even less likely that such a marriage would have won approval from Anjan’s mother.

On a different topic, while the “to thine own self be true” theme is one of my favorite themes in literature, I feel the worthwhile message of The Heiress Effect is driven home a little more strongly than I prefer, with the result being that the novel feels a bit didactic.

To one degree or another, I’ve had this issue with every Milan book or novella I have read, and I’m not sure to whether it is because the strength of the messages can get in the way of the romanticism of the narrative, or whether it’s that the messages stand out more because they are feminist and progressive, which I like, but which isn’t typical of the genre. I suspect it’s some of both.

Now onto the things I enjoyed in this novel. There were quite a few of them, too.

The ultimate conflict was not about whether Oliver would sacrifice Jane for votes, but rather about whether he would sacrifice himself—his personal happiness with Jane—in favor of marrying a wife more “suitable” for a politician’s public image.

I loved the way Jane, who wore bold clothing and made bold choices, was contrasted with Oliver, who tried so hard to fit in that he stifled who he was. I loved this conflict and especially the role reversal. [spoiler]While the story began with Oliver giving Jane courage, it ended with Oliver taking courage from Jane.[/spoiler]

I thought Jane was a truly heroic figure, and I loved her. She was true to herself and that can take a lot of strength. Oliver was less heroic, but I still liked him. I thought it was a nice bonus that neither of the protagonists was an aristocrat, that both were outsiders, and that two who were once scorned as “illegitimate” found their happiness together.

The sex was sexy and felt necessary to the story. I loved that there wasn’t any extra sex shoehorned in just to make the book more steamy. Instead we got exactly what served the story best.

Similarly, I was glad that though we got to visit with Robert and Minnie, Hugo and Serena, these scenes served Oliver’s growth and didn’t feel like prequel bait (I was a little less keen on Sebastian and Viola’s later scenes – those didn’t feel quite as organic).

One of the things I appreciated most was that The Heiress Effect included a world of characters: family members, friends, and colleagues of the main characters. It’s rare to see such a richly textured tapestry of a novel in this genre and I think the secondary characters contributed to that effect.

Among those side characters were two human and believable villains. Titus, Jane and Emily’s uncle, wasn’t purely evil. He believed he was doing the right thing by keeping Emily confined and allowing doctors to experiment on her in order to “cure” her.

The Marquess of Bradenton was even more believable and more compelling. He relied on his privilege to bring others into line and tried to use it to control Oliver. Bradenton truly believed himself superior to Oliver due to his birth, and putting upstarts like Oliver and Jane in their place was something he saw as natural, part of the social order.

It was such a nice twist that just as the hero wasn’t an aristocrat, his antagonist was one. Romances so often romanticize the upper classes that it feels refreshing and authentic to me to see an example of how power and privilege can corrupt and blind.

Anjan and Emily’s storyline had a subtle star-crossed lovers feel that was deeply romantic. I wondered how they would overcome Emily’s uncle, and the solution to the problem proved delightful.

Anjan was a wonderful character, chafing at bigotry and oppression but aware that rebelling could be costly to him. He was respectful of Emily, and caring and supportive once he learned the truth of her circumstances.

Emily was lovely, and in a way, she too was oppressed—in her case by her uncle’s view of her medical condition. What I loved about Emily was that she did not accept her uncle’s view of her, and she found a way to chart her own destiny. It was great to see a disabled secondary heroine portrayed as competent and capable.

Oliver’s aptly named sixteen year old sister, Free (short for Frederica), was another terrific character. I loved her ambition and her inner strength, which was made up of part idealism and part determination. I am now looking forward to The Mistress Rebellion, the upcoming book that will feature her as a main character.

Finally, what can I say about Oliver’s agoraphobic aunt Freddy? This was the character who annoyed me in The Governess Affair with her constant disapproval of Serena, but in this book I discovered a lot more compassion for her than I’d had previously. She won my affection and respect, and she broke my heart.

While not perfect, The Heiress Effect was a very enjoyable book and a moving one, too. Even with the issues I’ve listed, it is still one of the best 2013 books I’ve read. My grade for it is a B+.



AmazonBNSonyKoboAREBook DepositoryGoogle