I admit it. The lovely cover is what made me stop and give your new novel a second look. I’m a sucker for pretty covers, and I thought this one was highly effective for the genre. If only I could say the same for the content.

Helen Cartwright is the sheltered daughter of a British family. That all changes when her mother drags her out of bed one night and tells her to flee through a secret passage. She eventually does so but not before everyone else in the household is murdered and the family estate set on fire.

Before being told to flee, Helen was given a slip of paper containing a name and address. Left with nowhere else to go, she seeks help there and meets two brothers named Darius and Griffin. She learns that she, along with the brothers, are the last descendants of angels charged with the task of protecting Earth’s past, present, and future.

Over the past few months, their fellow descendants have been hunted down and murdered until the trio are all that is left. Now it’s up to the three of them to find the people responsible and stop the murderers from seizing control of the item that can grant them dominion over the entire world.

Summarized succinctly like that, it seems like there’s a decent story to work with here. Some interesting things could have been done with this foundation. But that is not at all what I got.

First of all, these angelic descendants have got to be the stupidest guardians of the world I’ve ever had the misfortune to read about. Let’s get this straight. Members of your order are being hunted down and killed one by one. What do you do? Do you run, hide, or stay in your house and do nothing? Two of those options make reasonable sense. One does not. Guess what they chose?

Secondly, the worldbuilding follows no logic I can parse. According to the rules set forth in this world, the angelic descendants aren’t allowed to learn about their heritage until they turn 17. Why? Do they go crazy? No clue. If there was a reason, I missed it. But that’s okay — instead of giving them straightforward training and education in preparation for the momentous responsibility of watching over the world, their parents teach them “games” that are really lessons in disguise. And when I say games, I don’t mean strategic ones like chess. I mean games like walking down the same street every morning.

WTF, why? There is no reason for this. If you’re waging an epic war against demons, wouldn’t it make sense to teach your next generation properly? This is the world we’re talking about here. Shouldn’t we take this task a little more seriously? Why would you teach your successors in the most obtuse, vaguest way possible? It should have occurred to someone that if all the adults were wiped out, the kids would be in trouble due to lack of adequate training. Way to go, good guys. Way to go. No wonder you’re losing.

This doesn’t even get into the fact that this book supposedly takes place in London. Sometime. In the past. I’m the first to admit that my knowledge of historical London is not so great. I don’t pick up on details the way I know other DA folk (reviewers and readers) do. But this book had no concept of setting whatsoever. There were points in the book where I had to stop and make sure it was a historical, not a modern-day story. Maybe I’m asking for too much, but you have to give me something to work with. You can’t tell me that something takes place in historical London and expect me to believe it if there are no period clues beyond wearing a corset.

And then there’s the romantic subplot. Could it have gotten any more paint by numbers? When Helen meets the brothers, I was truly fearful. Great, she’s going to be torn between two opposites — the nice brother and the mean brother. Could this get any more predictable? But then the book surprised me (the one and only time this happened, by the way) when it revealed the mean brother’s heart lay elsewhere.

That said, this doesn’t mean I was keen on Helen hooking up with the nice brother either. I’m tired of this insta-lust in YA novels. Do teenagers fall in lust at first sight? Sure. Am I going to buy it in a book where the heroine’s parents were just murdered and her house burned down? Not so much. Priorities, people.

Unfortunately, the circumventing of Helen being torn between the brothers didn’t mean we escaped from the love triangle trope. Another prospect named Raum is soon introduced and he’s even worse. This is not just a bad boy; he’s their enemy. I would rather Helen had been torn between the brothers than this. There were moments in the novel where Helen would choose to protect Raum and I saw no reason why, especially when you take into account his involvement with her parents’ deaths. It made me think less of her. We’re supposed to believe she’s torn up over their deaths, that she wants revenge. And yet she continually protects the guy who killed them.

Perhaps the book intended to portray Helen as conflicted and torn between all her various allegiances. The story doesn’t make sense otherwise. But the execution falls flat. As a reader, I didn’t find Helen conflicted. I found her TSTL. This was made even worse because all the boys in her life — even the nice brother — were jerks, especially when it came to Helen. They all treat her like an idiot, including the one who’s supposedly in love with her. It left a bad taste in my mouth.

There could have been a good book somewhere in all this, but the major flaws with the romance and worldbuilding prevented me from seeing it. I have no idea if this is the start of a series and I couldn’t care less. Combined with bland writing, I wish I’d spent my time reading something else. D

My regards,
Jia

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I fear my epic reading muscles must be atrophied. I realize I’ve been reading many young adult novels and paranormal/urban fantasies in recent months, but I think it’s warped my expectations for how long it should take me to finish a book! I’ve reviewed the Elantra novels you write under the Michelle Sagara name here on Dear Author in the past, but I think this is the first time I’ve reviewed one of your Michelle West epic fantasies.

For readers who are only familiar with the Elantra novels, Michelle West also writes interconnected fantasy series for DAW. The best analogy I can come up is something like Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar universe. The various novels chronicle the struggles of different characters against the backdrop of the God of Hell returning to the mortal plane, thus promising impending doom and the apocalypse.

House Name is the third book of House War, the third series set in this universe. This series focuses on Jewel Markess ATerafin, a major character of this universe, and her rise to influence in the most powerful noble house of the Essalieyan Empire, House Terafin. House Name picks up after the events of City of Night, in which Jewel’s mentor sends her to his estranged sister, Amarais, the lord of House Terafin.

Coming from one of the poorest districts in the Capital, Jewel is the den leader of a motley gang of street urchins. She is also seerborn which, for obvious reasons, is a very coveted and very rare talent. Because of this, Amarais sees her potential and has given her the opportunity to earn the name of House Terafin. The noble houses of the Empire are unique in fantasylandia in that you aren’t born to the name. You earn it.

What does Jewel have to do to earn the name? Oh, nothing much. She just has to find the entrances to the ruined underground city that exists beneath the Capital. For years, Jewel and her den scavenged the city for valuable items they could pawn. But recently, the ruined city grew unstable. Worse still, something else was in the city, something that led to the disappearance of three of her den and the death of her right hand.

You see, once upon a time, that fallen city was home to the Lord of Hell and his followers when gods still walked the earth. The problem? The entrances are disappearing. This is obviously a problem when demons have returned to the mortal plane and are trying to resurrect their god. Even more, it makes Jewel look like a liar. The only reason she’s believed is because Amarais and the powerful mage, Meralonne, saw the existence of demons with their very own eyes.

If this plot sounds familiar, that’s because it is. It’s the events of Hunter’s Death, a previous Michelle West novel, told from the den’s perspective. As a longtime Michelle West fan who’s read every book, I must admit that what should have been the high points of the plot ended up not being the case at all. I knew what was going to happen, and that negated the suspense.

I can’t say this was a surprise. After all, the last third or so of the previous novel, City of Night also repeated some of the events portrayed in Hunter’s Death. But it didn’t bother me quite as much there because we had the first two-thirds and Rath’s and Duster’s respective storylines. House Name, however, expands the remaining events involving the den from Hunter’s Death. A lot. To the point that I question if this book was even necessary to advance or just pretty filler.

Don’t get me wrong. I did like some of the expansion. I enjoyed Finch’s and Teller’s storylines a great deal. I also liked seeing the conclusion of Angel’s plot thread that began in City of Night, even though I felt that it lacked a certain impact. There were also some background details offered up that I think longtime readers will appreciate.

That said, I know this story already. I know how it ended. This isn’t a matter of knowing genre conventions — like the lost heir returning to claim the throne or the evil king being overthrown. Readers know those by heart. Like many readers, I read for the journey. But I’ve already been on this journey. I know the setbacks, the advances, the success, the failures. I know them already. A few minor subplots and expanded scenes aren’t going to change that fact.

I guess what it comes down to is why readers read a book, and why epic fantasy readers read epic fantasy series. Speaking for myself, I look for new adventures, new struggles, new conflicts, new mysteries, forward movement along a character arc, and maybe new characters. Maybe not at all once but certainly some of them. And to be blunt, I don’t think House Name actually gave me any of those things.

This is a tough grade to assign. It’s a well-written book and I think someone who hasn’t read the Sacred Hunt duology (of which Hunter’s Death is the second book) might not view it as much of a retread as I did. On the other hand, because it portrays the events of that book from the den’s perspective, unfamiliar readers might also feel like half the story is missing. I do think this is a book diehard fans of the series will want to read but readers who are lukewarm towards Jewel and her story arc can probably skip it. At any rate, this novel is anything but a good entry point into this universe, although that is a problem plaguing many an epic fantasy series and certainly is not unique to this one. C

My regards,
Jia

Book Link | Amazon | nook | BN |

There appears to be no ebook format for this book. I know. WTF?

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I first heard of your book while linkhopping across various reader blogs. I can’t tell you exactly where I learned of Cold Magic but the description stuck with me: an Afro-Celtic post-Roman icepunk Regency novel with airships, Phoenician spies, and the intelligent descendants of troodons. I later discovered this description was taken from the author interview included in the back of the book but in terms of hooking me, it was very effective! That was such a mishmash of different ideas and concepts, I had no idea how they could possibly work together. I had to see it for myself, and I’m so glad I did.

The history of the world begins in ice, and it will end in ice.

So begins Cold Magic, the first novel in your Spiritwalker trilogy. Set in an alternate Europe populated by the various unions of Celtic tribe and West African diaspora formed after the fall of the Roman Empire, Cold Magic tells the story of Catherine Hassi Barahal, a child of Kena’ani (aka Phoenician) merchants. Orphaned as a baby when her parents died during a river crossing, Catherine was raised by her aunt and uncle, along with their own daughter, her cousin, Beatrice.

Though both girls are close in age, Catherine is the elder cousin and she is nearing her legal majority. This is a key point because at some point in the past, the Hassi Barahal family made an enemy of the powerful Four Moons mage House and to escape destruction, they forged a contract. In that contract, they promised Four Moons House the eldest Barahal daughter and they could claim ownership of her at any point before her legal majority. They thought they’d somehow managed to escape that contract unscathed but unfortunately, it was not meant to be.

Catherine is then taken from her family and forced into married to Andevai, the most powerful cold mage of his generation. What follows is a journey across cities, the countryside, even the spirit world, as Catherine struggles to make the best of her situation while trying to discern the details of the contract that landed her in this mess, the truth behind her parents’ deaths, and her destined role in the impending conflict between magic and technology.

I haven’t been this excited about a traditional fantasy novel since Kushiel’s Dart. And while this is a very different book from that one, it does something similar by taking familiar concepts and putting a new spin on them. Here, it is the impoverished upper class family, the orphan raised to be a companion and replacement for the true daughter, and the forced marriage. I think anyone who’s read a few Regency novels will recognize these elements.

I also really liked the concept of this alternate Europe. Not only did Rome and Carthage fight each other to a standstill, instead of European colonialism, a salt plague (and more than a few ravenous ghouls who climbed out of those plagued salt mines) led to the mass exodus of West African tribes from the Empire of Mali across the Mediterranean Sea (on Phoenician ships, no less) to Europe where they intermingled with the Celtic tribes that had established a sort of feudal system after Rome’s fall. In a genre where the default is often assumed to be that of white European, you cannot make that assumption here and I found that incredibly refreshing. I loved how equal weight was given to the Celtic and Mande traditions, and how in this world, both cultures are respected.

Catherine is a wonderful heroine. She is competent and pragmatic, and I particularly appreciated her loyalty to her family. Despite the startling turn of events, she didn’t question the terms and accepted the price of the contract. Even at the novel’s turning point, when the truth of Catherine’s heritage is revealed, she doesn’t bear any true malice against her family and the injustice they’ve dealt her. Her first thought, instead, is that of Beatrice.

Can I also say that I adored the relationship between Catherine and Beatrice? It’s wonderful to see cousins-raised-as-sisters have a genuinely affectionate relationship — not only as family but also as friends. They aren’t the same. In fact, they’re the classic trope of being opposites: Catherine is nosy and tomboyish while Beatrice is charmingly beautiful. In another story, we wouldn’t be surprised to discover Beatrice is a spoiled brat who torments Catherine or the like. But that doesn’t happen here.

In many ways, I thought the bond between Catherine and Beatrice was the major driving force of the story. It’s Catherine’s concern for Beatrice’s welfare that helps her accept the forced marriage, and it’s Catherine’s concern for Beatrice that brings her back even when she didn’t have any real reason to return. And I was also thrilled to discover Beatrice had a spine of steel as well in the second half of the book.

As for the romance, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect of the forced marriage between Catherine and Andevai. I’m ambivalent on this trope so I like to think I approached that aspect with an open mind. I was very surprised. It was nice to see Catherine and Andevai discover each other’s strengths and weaknesses, especially since Andevai was as much a victim of the contract as Catherine. It’s not a major aspect of the plot but it’s there.

This is the first installment of a trilogy, and like many fantasy trilogies, the story is not complete in this single volume. I did think the book ended at a good stopping point, but I definitely see why some readers might feel like they were left hanging. Speaking for myself, I’m very impatient for the next book but that’s because I want to see what comes next for Catherine, Beatrice, and Andevai.

Cold Magic is touted as Regency icepunk although if it’s set in 1837, shouldn’t it be early Victorian icepunk? Regardless, I hesitate to call this steampunk although I can see why that label could also fit. I actually think gaslight on the verge of becoming steampunk is more accurate. While the novel is very much devoted to Catherine’s story, we are treated to rising tensions in the background between the established order of the cold mages and the impending Industrial Revolution which promises flying dirigibles and other technological wonders. I suspect these will come to the forefront in the sequels.

In the end, I’m pleasantly surprised to discover that description which introduced me to Cold Magic was accurate. I understand that it could put off potential readers because the various elements seem so discordant but I thought you made them work. I felt like you packed a lot of stuff into 500+ pages, and it resulted in something nuanced and layered. I like that in my fantasy, and I’m thrilled to have discovered you. So much so that I’m going to look up your backlist. A-

My regards,
Jia

Book Link | Kindle | Amazon | nook | BN | Borders
| Sony

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I was interested in this story because it featured a shapeshifter of an unusual kind: birds of prey. Cullen Whitefeather is a part of the Ac-taw, the name for those who shape shift. Cullen’s other form is that of a golden eagle. Cullen and his family live in Cougar Falls, an area that is protected by a mystical totem which allows only those who are Ac-taw to find the place.

Cullen has visited the local diner nearly every morning to have coffee and waffles and to ogle Sarah Duncan, the waitress, for whom he has unrequited feelings. After Sarah is attacked by a jealous gaggle of raptors, Cullen takes her wounded body home with him where they await Ac-taw justice.

I did appreciate the attention given to the bird of prey habitat and behavior. You took careful effort to show how Cullen and Sarah were different types of shapeshifters. The battle scenes between the birds of prey was also unique and very well done. The mannerisms of the animals were also well incorporated throughout the book. Cullen’s mother calls her strapping son a “shy sparrow” at one point.

One problem I had was with Cullen. He was supposed to be this man of few words and it is true that he didn’t have many lines of dialogue, but when he did speak it wasn’t consistently in that manner. It was impressed on the reader time and again that Cullen had a difficult time expressing himself and thus sentences like “Baby I can’t get enough of you…I can’t believe how good you make me feel” or “Stay for a few more days, okay, Sarah? I know you still want to leave, but would you humor me” don’t seem in keeping with the character that was trying to be portrayed. I.e., Cullen’s mom says he “[c]an barely put two words together when he’s wanting something.”

Sarah’s quick tumble into love for Cullen seemed a bit improbable particularly after she admitted that she once had the hots for another man in Cougar Falls. I actually thought it was a unique storyline that she had “loved” someone else but it never really played out. She easily dismissed those feelings as unimportant (and maybe they were) but I didn’t really see how she felt Cullen and she were a good fit. Cullen was very good for her but I wanted to see more evidence of why Cullen was the one for her as opposed to another man.

I was more interested in the history of Cougar Falls and the mythology of the Ac-taw than I was in the story of Cullen and Sarah. Too much was forced to happen too quickly. The unrequited love story was resolved too quickly; Sarah fell in “love” without much reason; the story lacked nuance. Maybe the novella length affected the ability of the story to unfold at its own pace. However, from a world building standpoint, I would probably read another story based in Cougar Falls. C

Best regards

Jane

This novella can be purchased at Samhain in ebook format.

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This is the first of your books that I’ve read, and when I began reading it last week, I couldn’t remember why I had been interested enough to pick it up, since I’m not hugely adventurous when it comes to new-to-me authors, and I haven’t had very good luck with the Harlequin Historical line. Likely it was the suggestion in the title of a mistress story; I’m always up for a good mistress story. Though the heroine never actually is a mistress, of the hero or anyone else in the course of the book, Kidnapped: His Innocent Mistress ended up being an unusual and worthwhile read.

The story opens with our heroine, Catriona Balfour, at the graveside service for her recently deceased father. She is 18 years old, an only child, and now, a penniless orphan, her mother having died several months before. Catriona had lived her whole life with her loving and indulgent parents in the Scottish highlands (brain to self: "Wait, this is a Scottish romance? At the first Sassenach or dinna, I am so out of here". Self to brain: "Oh, shut up. You loved Outlander". Luckily, this wasn’t "that" type of Scottish romance). As a schoolmaster’s daughter, Catriona has had more than her share of education, but in 1802 Scotland, that is not going to do her much good. She has no relatives and thus no prospective saviors to take her in.

Or so she thinks. At her father’s wake, Catriona encounters Neil Sinclair, of His Majesty’s Navy and heir to the Earl of Strathconan. Neil has come to escort Catriona to her uncle’s home in Glen Clair, as the uncle, her father’s brother, has agreed to take her in.

Neil and Catriona clash immediately, but she quickly realizes that she has few alternatives, and she reluctantly agrees to leave the only home she’s ever known and journey with him to Glen Clair and the relatives she never knew existed. The first leg of the journey is chaperoned by the minister’s wife, but that does not deter Neil from making an improper proposal to Catriona, one that she naturally (and indignantly) turns down.

Catriona has been warned that though her ancestral family home was once a great estate, the Balfours backed the wrong side in the Jacobite uprising some 60 years before, and are now "as poor as church mice". Still, upon her arrival (an arrival delayed by a mysterious run-in with smugglers on the road), she discovers that things are much worse than she could have imagined. Not only is the family manse crumbling due to the Balfours’ poverty, but it is clear that her uncle has been neglectful and has essentially run the place into the ground. Catriona’s cousin, Ellen, is beautiful and sweet, but ineffectual. Ellen’s mother is an invalid who uses her imaginary ailments to control her daughter. And Uncle Ebeneezer is a menacing, drunken brute.

Kidnapped: His Innocent Mistress has a lot going on in a relatively short book. The section at Glen Clair is only part of the story, and from there Catriona is catapulted into a number of adventures that repeatedly bring her into contact with Neil, whom she both disdains and desires.

What I liked about this book: first of all, I am a fan of the first person voice when it’s done well, and it really was done well here. I know that some readers miss seeing the hero’s POV, but I believe that you are giving up something to get something – ideally, a greater sense of identification with and understanding of the heroine. When a heroine is charming and likable, as Catriona is, it’s an exchange I don’t mind making.

On the surface, there is nothing that really sets Catriona apart as a romance heroine. Insecure about her looks (especially in the company of the beauteous Ellen), overeducated for the era, and drawn to a hero she can’t decide if she wants to kiss or kill. It’s all stuff the average romance reader has seen before, many times. Yet the characterization of Catriona is what makes the book. She has quirks and idiosyncrasies that make her come alive as a heroine. She admits several times that she never loses her appetite, no matter what the circumstances. She is not money-grubbing but she acknowledges to herself on several occasions that she wouldn’t mind if some money dropped into her lap. She has jealousies and insecurities and she reacts in a refreshingly sensible way in certain situations where many a romance heroine has been known to turn into a total bird-brain. One example: when Catriona and Neil get a little too romantic, he puts a stop to it to preserve her chastity. Catriona is torn because she loves and wants him, but she also is cognizant of the dangers of giving herself outside of marriage and the social ruin she might face. Similarly, when she does come to the realization that she loves Neil, they are in a dangerous situation, and she is able to consciously remind herself that however in love she is, she has more important things to concentrate on at that moment (i.e. getting them out of peril, which Catriona aids in admirably, even if she doesn’t quite do it single-handedly).

I did not find Neil nearly as compelling as Catriona, though I did like the way he was portrayed near the end – many a romance hero acts badly because he is "afraid of love", but I believed it much more in this book than I usually do; it didn’t feel cliché.

What keeps this book from getting a higher grade for me: the prose was just okay, in my prose-picky opinion. In some ways, since it was first person narrative, having the "voice" be a little less polished and sophisticated made sense, but I love beautiful prose and I didn’t really find it in Kidnapped: His Innocent Mistress. The plot, while fast-paced, had some holes that didn’t bear too close scrutiny; for instance, the hero is in danger from some rather Keystone Kop-like villains who conveniently wait to dispose of him just long enough for the hero and heroine to come up with a plan to save themselves. The villains in general were just not given enough page time to make their idiosyncrasies interesting; instead they appeared sort of inconsistent and wishy-washy.

Still, the good definitely outweighs the bad in this book, and I was so pleasantly surprised to find that Kidnapped: His Innocent Mistress was different – I give a lot of points for different unless a book is complete dreck in every other way. My grade is a B, and I will be checking out your backlist.

Best regards,

Jennie

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or ebook format from the Sony Store and other etailers.

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Had you not sent Dear Author the ARC of this book for review, the cheesy cover, hackneyed title, and curious cover quote from Eloisa James – “So hot the pages smoke . . . ” – would have thoroughly deterred me from picking it up on my own. Which would have been a shame, as A Rake’s Guide to Pleasure is a much better book than all of those superficial markers suggest.

Both Emma Jensen and the Duke of Somerhart are in disguise, she as a widow of body, and he as a widower of heart, two incredibly lonely people who are grieving for more losses than they can even let on to themselves. The duke, Hart (or Winterhart, as he is now casually known), has never fully recovered from an early emotional loss, a true fall into love that ended disastrously and with incredible public humiliation. Emma has lost the entirety of her family, including a thoroughly reprobate father and an uncle whom she loved and who provided what little security and happiness she had after her mother’s early death. Left with a very small inheritance, Emma remains for a time with a local family, but ultimately plots to make her fortune in London as the fictitious dowager Lady Denmore (the title that still belongs to a distant relative), free to gamble and play at various games of chance without seeming too scandalous.

Except that Somerhart cannot keep his interested eyes from her, tempting her with a dangerous attraction and attracting the attention of the ton, who take Somerhart’s interest as confirmation that Emma is his latest mistress. Emma is both deeply afraid of and deeply attracted to Hart, afraid that he will remember her from the brief time they met at her father’s home (during one of his famous bacchanaliae) and downright terrified because he calls to her innate sensuality, a characteristic she ruthlessly suppresses because she does not want to be like her father. Hart is equally off balance around Emma, who calls to the innate romantic in him, a part of his personality he has cruelly attempted to dismiss from his character, and which has successfully obeyed his discipline until now. He finds Emma’s spoken resistance to his intention to make her his mistress an irresistible challenge, especially given her apparent disregard of society’s views of women who gamble for high stakes. He does not know that desperation drives Emma far more powerfully than true bravado, and his pursuit of her sexual attention brings them into a tense and tentative friendship – the kind of mutual sparring that draws them inevitably closer even as it is meant to sustain emotional barriers.

All of this may sound quite ordinary for the genre, clichéd, even. And it is to some degree. Through the first few chapters of A Rake’s Guide to Pleasure, I fought the sense that I had already read this book so many times before (and I am sure I was still under the negative thrall of that title, cover, and author quote), persisting more from obligation than enjoyment.

But as Hart and Emma grow closer, and as Emma struggles against several real dangers imposing from her past, my engagement in the book and its characters deepened. I recognized an emotional current under all the formula that buoyed the characters and the conflict, and I resonated with pockets of prose that lifted above the norm. I knew I was reading a different book than I thought I was when I reached this passage:

Emma sighed and let her hand fall away from her body. She was alone as she’d always been, and it would not do to forget it.

Snow blew against her window, a speckling of icy drops, and Emma was drawn toward it. Lights from the rooms below shone across frosted grass. A tree branch sparkled with a thick layer of clear ice. Nothing moved but what the wind blew. Another empty night, and she was tempted again.

She wanted to run down the stairs in her bare feet and sneak out a side door. She wanted that blast of impossible cold, the stinging of her skin. She could walk for miles, she thought, before her body froze into crystals and was picked apart by a gust of wind, scattered into the world like magic. The little pieces of her would float forever, the whole sky would be her home. Everywhere. Nowhere.

All of a sudden I could feel Emma’s loneliness and despair, the sense of emotional isolation that made her more than a stereotypical Romance heroine fighting unmasking, impoverishment, and eventual degradation. Instead she was a woman who was feeling so alone that she was imagining her own annihilation into everything and nothing. At that point in the novel I became focused on Emma in a new way, rooting for her to find the kind of happiness she never contemplated for herself, urging Hart to be the man that she needed. Because as emotionally in control as he always kept himself, and as much as Emma threatened that control, he is downright well-adjusted compared to Emma, and for me, the book’s success depended on him recognizing and understanding that.

Without revealing the turn of events in Hart and Emma’s relationship, I will say that I was pleased with how these two characters moved through the stirrings of their growing relationship. Hart can be a jerk, but he is also smart and – shockingly – he thinks things through, recognizing, if a bit late, that things are not what he initially thought they were. Emma, who feels the need to be punished more acutely than her desire to be loved, is drawn more to Hart when he is cruel to her than when he is kind, as his kindness represents a temptation to that dark sexuality in herself of which Emma is so terrified. And while his cruelty inflames her lust, as well, it allows her to maintain some semblance of emotional independence and determination to hold to her original purpose. And while that purpose may frustrate any chance of romantic happiness for Emma and Hart, it deepens the sense of authenticity in her character, a consistency that allows me to believe that Emma really is determined to tend to her own security and safety, unwilling to fully depend on or trust anyone else. Though I realized the depth of Emma’s unhappiness, I admired the consistency of characterization and the dignity in that for a female character who claims to be determined. How refreshing that she did not magically trust in the power of the romantical penis to make her all better. And while Hart had quite a few stereotypical rakish characteristics, he rises above his type through the exercise of real intelligence – the ability to distinguish between truth and a lie, even if it takes him a little while (again, more realism!). This quality proves crucial, because short of a lot of sappy plot crises or a variety of emotional deus ex machinae, actual intelligence displayed by at least one character is necessary to overcome the emotional stubbornness of two bruised (even broken) hearts.

I want to return for a minute to that cover quote by Eloisa James. While the quote itself makes me sigh in frustration, it is not entirely inaccurate. Or rather, it is true that the more sensual aspects of the book are energized by both emotional and physical intensity. In a genre so familiar with sex and sexuality, I am often bored by the sex scenes in Romance. But here there are some of those pockets of surprising prose to give the same old new emphasis. At one point, for example, Emma’s “sex beat like a sharp, beautiful pulse.” Although I don’t think that phrase makes perfect sense logically, it worked for me emotionally and narratively, especially in conjunction with the next sentence: “Her limbs felt numb and insubstantial, as if she’d burned into nothingness.” That echoing of annihilation, this time in a very different way, still lonely but not alone, and its contrast with that very alive sexual heartbeat, captured all the yearning and frustration of this scene in which Emma watches Hart pleasure himself at her urging. The contest for sexual power between Emma and Hart drives much of their early love play, and it works well to mirror and magnify their various emotional battles (both within themselves and with each other). It is, indeed, hot, but since prurience and its potentially devastating consequences is such a strong theme in the book, that heat takes on an added dimension (ironizing the cover quote even more), both for the characters and the reader.

Although I have focused primarily on Hart and Emma, there is a rather extensive list of secondary characters, some of whom are very intriguing – like the Duke of Lancaster, who offers Emma an authentic friendship, and whose own story will be told next – and some of whom are frankly irritating (Marsh, for example, whose lechery was so one dimensional as to be uninteresting). A young man from Emma’s past, a would-be suitor whose religious zealotry is indistinguishable from madness, has a substantial part to play, although I wished his character had been drawn with more nuance, especially given his importance to the novel’s resolution.   Yet there was also a particularly touching scene in which a young man stands up for Emma when she could have simply been left to the wolves. It was those more thoughtful scenes, along with the stronger aspects of the central relationship, that I enjoyed in A Rake’s Guide to Pleasure, and there were enough of them that I came away feeling that this novel is a solid B. Now I am looking forward to the adventures of the deceptively mysterious Lancaster – and to knowing how he got that impressive scar across his neck.

~Janet

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or Powells. No ebook format.

Related posts:

1. REVIEW: The Parson’s Pleasure by Patricia Wynn
2. REVIEW: A Rake’s Guide to Seduction by Caroline Linden
3. REVIEW: Pleasure for Pleasure by Eloisa James

The back cover blurb doesn’t even begin to convey the complexity of the story, nor the mastery of the writing:

Elly
In town, they called her "Crazy Widow Dinsmore." But Elly was no stranger to their ridicule-’she had been an outsider all her life, growing up in a boarded-up old house under the strict eye of her eccentric grandparents. Now she was all alone, with two little boys to raise, and a third child on the way.

Will
He drifted into Whitney, Georgia, one lazy afternoon in the summer of 1941, hoping to put his lonely past behind him. He yearned for the tenderness he had never known, the home he’d never had. All he needed was for someone to give him a chance.

Then he saw a classified ad: WANTED-’A husband. When he stepped across Elly Dinsmore’s cluttered yard, Will Parker knew he had come home at last.

The book spans about two and a half years during WWII, and follows two of the most memorable characters I’ve ever met. He’s an ex con, an orphan, displaced and haunted by his past. She’s a pregnant widow with two young children, a reputation for madness, and a deep mistrust for the people who have made her an outsider all of her life.

Contrary to a widely held convention in romances-’particularly those written in the 1980s-’neither of these characters feel in, or behave from, a position of power over the other one. Elly needs a man to work the farm and help provide for her children, and all she has to offer is marriage-’a stake on the land. Will has been drifting, his jail time making it impossible for him to hold a job anywhere. All he has to offer is a strong back and his willingness to work. They feel equally inadequate, equally lonely, equally lacking in worth. Their lives are hard and nearing hopelessness, but neither of them indulges in self pity. Their world is harsh, and one doesn’t survive in it for long by being weak.

After a trial period, they do get married-’a marriage of convenience, and from which they expect nothing, want nothing and need nothing, beyond a sense of security and belonging. Gradually, as they get to know each other, and learn to deal with the responsibilities marriage entails, even a marriage that doesn’t seem to exist except on paper, things change. They both need more-’to give and to receive. And it is this journey, from isolated entities to a tightly bound unit, that the novel charts.

The setting, a small town in Georgia in the early 1940s, is rendered with sure strokes and built up, bit by bit, through the course of the novel. America hasn’t quite recovered from the Great Depression, and rural towns move at a slow pace reminiscent of times long gone. The historic detail is never intrusive, but pervasive nonetheless, from the smallest aspects of everyday routine to the larger social and political issues of the time.

There are a number of delightful secondary characters, from the inimitable Miss Beasley, to Robert Collins, Lydia Marsh, and all the way down to Nathaniel and Norris MacReady, who comprise Whitney’s Civilian Guard during the war years. Lula Peak, the town slut, and Harley Overmire, superintendent at the local sawmill, are two other key secondary characters-’not delightful by any means, but still skillfully drawn.

Will’s friendship with Miss Beasley, the spinsterish librarian, is particularly poignant in its realism. While both Elly and Will have felt like lonely outcasts for most of their lives, Elly has a family-’her relationship with her children is something Will envies and doesn’t believe he can even hope to have. For her part, Miss Beasley is a lonely old maid, separated by intelligence, education, and character from most of the people around her. Given their personalities and interests, there is a tremendous sweetness in how these two characters, loners by circumstance rather than nature, find a kindred spirit and, tentatively at first, lower their defenses to offer and accept friendship.

Throughout the book, the dialogue is so good you can virtually hear the different accents and see each character’s background and education just from hearing them talk. But it’s really Ms Spencer’s incredible portrayal of the main characters’ inner lives that grabs the reader’s imagination and heart. Here is a snippet from a particularly lovely scene near the mid point of the novel:

They lay flat, quivering inside, disciplining themselves into motionlessness. From the corner of her eye she glimpsed his bare chest, the looming elbows, the hands folded behind his head. From the corner of his eye he saw her pregnant girth and her high-buttoned nightie with the quilts covering her to the ribs. Beneath her hands she felt her own heartbeat driving up through the quilt. On the back of his skull he felt the accelerated rhythm of his pulse.

The minutes dragged on. Neither moved. Neither spoke. Both worried.

One kiss-’is that so hard?

Just a kiss-’please.

But what if she pushes you away?

What is there for a man in a woman so pregnant she can scarcely waddle?

What woman wants a man with so many tramps under his bridge?

What man wants to roll up against someone else’s baby?

But most of them were paid, Elly, all of them meaningless.

Yes, it’s Glendon’s baby, but he never made me fell like this.

I’m unworthy.

I’m undesirable.

I’m unlovable.

I’m lonely.

Turn to her, he thought.

Turn to him, she thought.

This novel is a perfect mix of characterization and dialogue with plot and pacing, along with a poetic quality to the writing that manages to convey, so very vividly, the time and place where these lives unfold. I have read this book more than a dozen times over the years, and each time I start (like this time, in order to review it), I’m taken away to Whitney, to wonder anew at the everyday miracles that Elly’s and Will’s relationship embody.

I cannot recommend this book highly enough. If I could, I’d give it 200 out 100 :grin:

azteclady (who guest blogs on a regular basis at Karen Knows Best)

***

This book can be purchased in mass market or ebook format.

Related posts:

1. REVIEW: The Morning Gift by Diana Norman
2. REVIEW: Ghost Hunter by Jayne Castle aka Jayne Ann Krentz
3. REVIEW: September Release – Strength of the Wolf by Jorrie Spencer