Title:

Author: Kate Sherwood

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

Date: December 2011

Genre: M/M Romance (Contemporary)

Length: Novella

Availability: Ebook

Rating: ★★½☆☆ 

I have read a few of Kate Sherwood’s earlier books and enjoyed them, so I was really excited to see that she had another contemporary title out, this time set in the world of ice hockey.  I adore sports romances so Home Ice seemed likely to be a surefire hit with me. Unfortunately, despite some enjoyable aspects, I was very disappointed in this book. Read on to find out why.

Summary:

When they were young men playing on the same hockey team, the heat between Jason and Mike had been almost enough to melt the ice they were skating on. But Mike went off to be a star in the NHL and Jason stayed behind to start his life as the dedicated, deeply closeted coach of the town’s junior hockey team.

Now Mike is back in town and Jason finds that their passion burns as hot as ever. But they’re both still in the closet, and when Jason is threatened with exposure, he freezes. The flames of desire can’t melt Jason’s fears but maybe, just maybe, the warmth of love will thaw the ice.

The book opens well, with Jason spending time in the locker room with his team, listening to them argue talk about hockey, specifically the recent retirement from the NHL of Mike Whitby.  These first few pages effectively locate Jason in the story, giving the reader a good sense of the man, his warm relationship with the team, and the injury in his past which kept him from making it as a player in the NHL.  This is all done naturally, without the dreaded info-dump, and leads nicely into the introduction of Mike himself, who arrives in the locker room with the team’s General Manager, Walt.

It turns out that Mike and Jason will be working together, and Jason is understandably unsettled by this, preferring to keep his distance from Mike and avoid physical contact.  It’s clear that Jason is a very good, very popular coach who takes the trouble to  motivate his team rather than simply berate them for mistakes and that, having been an up-and-comer in the sport himself, he can empathise with their problems.  I don’t know a great deal about hockey but I found Sherwood’s depiction of the training environment convincing, and really enjoyed those aspects of the book.

Inevitably, Mike and Jason end up skating together after practice which leads them both down memory lane, and to another sort reunion afterwards in Jason’s office.  A few days later, having freaked out in the interim, Mike turns up on Jason’s doorstep and they end up having sex.  I would have liked more details on their previous relationship  - perhaps even a flashback! – because although I understood that they had been great friends, I didn’t really get a strong sense of exactly why this had been such an important relationship for Jason.  Without this emotional foundation I wasn’t really that moved by the sex scene, nicely written though it was.

I was a bit surprised, then, to find that in the next chapter we had already moved on a few weeks, and that Mike and Jason were enjoying a full-blown relationship. I really dislike books which go into too much detail about every stage of a romance, but it would have been good to see how they went from Jason having “no idea whether this was the start of something or just a one-time thing”, to what he now thinks of as “a real relationship”.  Instead there is a quick explanation of the steps they take to keep their liaisons secret, and the following passage which just made me cringe:

They’d usually have at least one round of sex before dinner, falling on each other greedily, re-learning the body that each had memorized the night before. Then a meal and conversation, catching up on the years apart, reminiscing about the times before. And it wasn’t all living in the past. They didn’t get into the future much, but they had the present pretty well covered, talking about the team and their families and even world events. Then more sex, slower this time, more relaxed. More like making love, Jason figured, but he was trying to avoid all thoughts of that word, even in euphemism form. He was trying, but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

Even world events!  Listing their evening activities by rote like that makes them sound unbelievably unromantic – even boring, despite all the sex – and as a reader I feel short-changed of an essential part of the story.  I love the falling in love stage – it’s why I read romance! Having them (or Jason at least) fall in love off-page seems antithetical to the genre and really kicked me out of the story – only for it to pull me back in a few paragraphs later.

I won’t go into spoiler-ish detail, but Jason has to deal with his team captain having a really tricky personal problem. Despite feeling ill-equipped to do so, Jason handles the problem like a champ, and these scenes, and those later as he discusses the problem with Mike, are really well done. I wish the book had been novel-length so that Sherwood could have taken her time with the material, and given the rest of the storyline equal weight.

Jason’s actions then lead onto the novella’s most dramatic part, which really came out of the blue for me and made me wonder – in the best possible way – where Sherwood was going with this storyline. I have mixed feelings about the direction it did go in, because although I was glad of the outcome, I also felt that it was tied up perhaps too quickly to be truly satisfying.  I did find that due to my lack of investment in Jason and Mike as a couple, events in this part of the novel were less affecting than they might otherwise have beeen.

It would definitely stray into spoilers to discuss the rest of the book in detail, but I think it’s fair to say that the remainder suffers from the same issues as the rest.  I noted in a previous review that Sherwood has a tendency to include extraneous or repetitious detail, and I’m afraid that is even more noticeable within the limited space of a novella.  Several times I wanted to smack Jason (the story his told from his third person limited point of view) for his ponderous musings and I have no idea why an incredibly minor character towards the end of the novella is given two sentences of totally unnecessary back-story.  This may be a personal preference, but when major parts of the central romance happened outside the narrative, I was irritated by this verbosity in other areas.

Perhaps the biggest problem with the narration – and the novella as a whole – is that I had almost no sense of Mike as a person. There are hints, such as in the beginning when  he impresses Jason by knowing the team enforcer’s name, and taking the trouble to treat him with respect. But these moments are scarce, and although Mike certainly seems like a good guy, he is a shadowy presence in the book rather than a fully-fleshed character.  His previous marriage, and the daughter who he has moved to be near, are rarely mentioned.  His struggles with his sexuality arise, but are not very deeply explored and consequently are not very emotionally affecting.  So as much as I liked Jason, I found it quite hard to care about his relationship because the other half of it was largely a mystery to me.  Sherwood has used this style of narration effectively in the past, so I wonder if the limited word count – and make no mistake, there is a lot of plot going on in this story – restricted opportunities to develop the characters.

This was a frustrating book to read, in large part because it had the potential to be so good. The plot and characters were all appealing, and really shone in some parts of the book, but the failure to develop either in a satisfying way makes it impossible for me to rate Home Ice highly.  I should also mention that Ellora’s Cave ebooks tend to be quite expensive – £3.44 (at time of purchase) is a lot to pay for a book of fewer than 100 pages.

You can buy Home Ice by Kate Sherwood in Kindle format from Amazon, and direct from Ellora’s Cave.

Title: Barging In

Author: Josephine Myles

Publisher: Samhain

Date: September 2011

Genre: M/M Romance (Contemporary)

Length: Novel

Availability: Ebook

Rating: ★★★★½ 

This was another case of reading the Kindle sample, then buying the book immediately though at least, unlike Muscling Through, I read Barging In at a more sensible hour of the day.  At first it was the unusual setting that drew me in (and it is so lovely to read a novel where the setting is so important, and so well-used) but I soon warmed to the characters and spent a very enjoyable day with this engaging novel.

Summary:

When the boat’s a rockin’, don’t come knockin’!

Out-and-proud travel writer Dan Taylor can’t steer a boat to save his life, but that doesn’t stop him from accepting an assignment to write up a narrowboat holiday. Instead of a change of pace from city life, though, the canal seems dull as ditchwater. Until he crashes into the boat of a half-naked, tattooed, pierced man whose rugged, penniless appearance is at odds with a posh accent.

Still smarting from past betrayal, Robin Hamilton’s “closet” is his narrowboat, his refuge from outrageous, provocative men like Dan. Yet he can’t seem to stop himself from rescuing the hopelessly out-of-place city boy from one scrape after another. Until he finds himself giving in to reluctant attraction, even considering a brief, harmless fling.

After all, in less than a week, Dan’s going back to his London diet of casual hook-ups and friends with benefits.

Determined not to fall in love, both men dive into one week of indulgence…only to find themselves drawn deep into an undertow of escalating intimacy and emotional intensity. Troubled waters neither of them expected…or wanted.

I have spent some time on a narrowboat (as one of those tourists that drive Robin up the wall) and can only regret that my luck in finding a sexy tattooed man wasn’t as good as Dan’s. Real life is such a let-down.  I think it’s fair to say that the setting (and especially Robin’s boat) is almost another character in this book, so integral is it to the plot, but Myles sensibly doesn’t labour the details.  Mention of locks and swing bridges may mean more to some readers than others, but if you pick this book up with no knowledge of narrowboats you will be fine.

I wasn’t sure what to make of Dan at first. He seems rather superficial, given to relying on his natural charm and good looks, and lacking in any depth. Robin is the total opposite, a man who doesn’t bother with niceties at all and seems quite happy to live in brooding isolation on his beloved boat. Though these first impressions carry an element of truth it becomes clear to us, and to the characters, that nothing is quite so simple.

As Dan is a stranger to the boating world the narrative begins from his perspective, effectively introducing the reader to the setting without feeling contrived, but does switch back and forth with Robin as the novel proceeds.  I found that this was done seamlessly, and at places where the narrative change made sense, and was completely unobtrusive as far as I was concerned. In this, and throughout the novel, Myles’ writing is confident and self-assured.

Dan’s writing and photography bring him further into contact with the boating community, and with Robin, and as the two spend more time together (and as Dan makes himself more useful than he initially appeared) a tentative connection is established.  The sex is incredibly hot, and the two seem to get along better than expected but Robin still sees Dan as a rather feckless city boy, and Dan himself is not in the habit of forming lasting relationships. All the signs point to an enjoyable fling but nothing more.

I don’t want to go into too much detail about the course of their relationship, but from what I have read of other reviews, many readers have issues with an aspect of the novel. Click the spoiler text if you want to know my thoughts on it.  Show ▼

While Dan and Robin are the stars of the show, I really enjoyed Myles’ portrayal of the peripheral characters, such as the other boaters and members of Dan and Robin’s families. While not always wildly original (Robin’s are the archetypal  upper middle class parents) they are vividly written and added a lot of colour to the novel.  As Dan and Robin’s  relationship deepens the other characters recede for a time, so that the reader can really feel the intimacy developing between them.  Then life intervenes  and they have to emerge into the real world again, but I enjoyed the other characters enough that I was happy to see them again.

Barging In is on the long side for a novel in this genre which I personally loved love loved. I like that the storyline had time to unfold, and that crucial events were spaced out enough in the narrative (though within a chronologically short space of time) that I didn’t feel that I was racketing from crisis to crisis with no break.  The way in which Dan and Robin dealt with their conflict helped with that, in that they are rather blokey and taciturn (and Robin has a habit of turning his phone off to avoid it).  Though emotions are deeply felt, and expressed in the occasional outburst, their behaviour on the whole felt realistically low-key to me and so even though there are quite a few misunderstandings, I didn’t feel the exasperation that such plotlines can cause.  I felt that both characters’ actions proceeded logically (even if illogical!) from what I knew of them and their background, and so I didn’t question it.

I will say that as long as the novel was, the ending felt a wee bit rushed to me.  I really liked the idea of the conclusion, but felt that it happened a little too quickly and neatly. I loved that both men realised that they needed to make changes and compromises for their relationship, and that both had come such a long way in order to do so. It felt like a realistic and sustainable path to a happy ending, and so I was all geared up for a lovely romantic reunion, but the actual ending felt a bit pat.  I was willing to go along with it because I enjoyed the rest of the book so much, but I think the execution of the ending was less satisfying than I had hoped.

That is my only quibble though, and didn’t really harm my enjoyment of this book.  I’d recommend it very highly and look forward to reading more of Josephine Myles’s work.

You can buy Barging In in Kindle format from Amazon, or direct from Samhain in a variety of formats.

Author: JL Merrow

Publisher: Samhain

Date: July 2011

Genre: M/M Romance

Length: Novella

Availability: Ebook

Rating: ★★★★☆ 

Having enjoyed Merrow’s earlier novella, Pricks and Pragmatism, I was happy to see another contemporary title from this author.  I was a little iffy on the premise but I read the Kindle sample late one night, immediately bought the book and then didn’t sleep until I’d finished it at about 3am. You might say that I enjoyed it.

Summary:

The bigger they come, the harder they fall… in love.

Cambridge art professor Larry Morton takes one, alcohol-glazed look at the huge, tattooed man looming in a dark alley, and assumes he’s done for. Moments later he finds himself disarmed—literally and figuratively. And, the next morning, he can’t rest until he offers an apology to the man who turned out to be more gentle than giant.

Larry’s intrigued to find there’s more to Al Fletcher than meets the eye; he possesses a natural artistic talent that shines through untutored technique. Unfortunately, no one else seems to see the sensitive soul beneath Al’s imposing, scarred, undeniably sexy exterior. Least of all Larry’s class-conscious family, who would like nothing better than to split up this mismatched pair.

Is it physical? Oh, yes, it’s deliciously physical, and so much more—which makes Larry’s next task so daunting. Not just convincing his colleagues, friends and family that their relationship is more than skin deep. It’s convincing Al.

I wasn’t sure how on earth Merrow would handle the inauspicious meeting described in the summary and indeed, it’s the kind of set-up which could have been awful in less assured hands.  Instead it’s funny and sweet, as we watch Larry and Al misunderstand one another at every turn, Larry because he’s petrified of this enormous man and Al because he tends to misunderstand things a lot.

Of course the majority of the book revolves around what a mismatched couple Larry and Al are; the well-heeled Cambridge academic and the uneducated, working class former bouncer. Their relationship baffles or outrages almost everyone they know (though not always for the same reason) and is a bit of a mystery to Al himself, and yet it works.

The novella is narrated by Al, which allows Merrow to portray his differences and strengths in a way that avoids patronizing him.  The reader is invited to take Al as Larry does, looking past the things which others use to disregard him to see the good, kind, talented man that he is.  Being privy to his internal thoughts allows the reader to see that, while not the brightest of sparks, Al is far from stupid.  This is made most explicit in Al’s art, where he only needs a bit of encouragement to excel.

The narration also means that while the reader is aware of Al’s insecurity in his relationship, it is presented in the same matter-of-fact way as everything he feels (“I know it’s just fucking, Larry and me”) and so occupies far less of the narrative than the summary may lead you to believe.  And it’s clearly not just fucking, because sex scenes occupy a refreshingly small part of the novella.  Where present they are as well-written as the rest of the book but as a reader who is a bit tired of writers detailing every single sexual encounter, I appreciated the fade-to-black too.

Although I hate the term, Muscling Through really is a feel-good story.  Any bumps in the road are realistically portrayed, but quickly smoothed over, keeping angst to a minimum. But more than that, Larry and Al are both so lovely, and their relationship so sweet (in the best non-treacly sense) that it was an absolute pleasure to spend time with them.

You can buy Muscling Through in Kindle format from Amazon,  or in a variety of ebook formats direct from Samhain.

The latter half of 2011 rather got away from me, what with health problems and a demanding new job, and also being a lazy so-and-so.  I completed my 2011 Goodreads Reading Challenge after I shaved 130 books from my original target, which shows how little time and inclination I had for reading compared to the start of the year.

Now that I’ve settled into the job and my health has improved I’m looking forward to reading and reviewing more, and generally getting excited about books again.

Author:

Publisher: Harlequin

Date: 1999

Genre: Historical Romance

Length: Novel

Availability: Print (secondhand)

Rating: ★★★★☆ 

The Knight’s Bride is one of the rarest of things: a romance which relies on misunderstandings that doesn’t irritate the pants off me.  That may seem like faint praise, but the Big Mis is one of my most loathed plot devices and that Lyn Stone kept me reading – and enjoying! – this novel is nigh unto a miracle.  See the rest of the review for my discussion about how she did it.

Back cover summary:

As the blurb makes clear, the marriage between Alan and Honor is one of necessity, and much of the book hinges on their motives in agreeing to fulfill Honor’s late husband’s final wish. The couple seem to be total opposites – Honor is beautiful, refined and cultured while Alan is the epitome of a rough, illiterate Highland warrior.  Their struggle to overcome these obvious differences, and others which are less apparent, is very well-done.

As a pregnant widow with enemies on her heels, Honor is extremely vulnerable, and so the marriage seems to her to be a way of protecting herself and her child in spite of her initial distate for Alan.  Alan sees himself as little more than a warrior, never having thought to become a husband or father, and unsure of how well the new direction of his life will suit him.  Both find that their expectations of the marriage are confounded in short order.

One of the aspects that I most enjoyed about The Knight’s Bride is that Alan is far from your stereotypical romance novel Highlander. He speaks in a thick brogue (which is rendered well on the page so as to be noticeable but not irritating), and is certainly a fearsome warrior when the need arises, but he is not especially bloodthirsty. His efforts to please Honor (despite being misguided in some ways) and his tenderness to her little daughter are – dare I say it?! – very sweet.

In the same way, Honor is a more compelling character thank she initially seems. Though given to explosions of temper, she is for the most part a brave woman who makes the best of the limited choices available to her.  She is resourceful and clever and, if she doesn’t always act entirely sensibly, the motivations for her behaviour are always clearly and sympathetically portrayed for the reader.

I think this is the key to why the numerous misunderstandings did not put me off The Knight’s Bride.  They stemmed from clearly established situtations, evolved logically in line with the established behaviour of the characters and – most of all – they were entertaining!  I could see exactly how and why Alan and Honor had arrived at such misapprehensions about one another, and although I would have liked to bang their heads together more than once, I found the misunderstandings added to the overall progression of the story.

The Knight’s Bride also took some unexpected turns with the introduction of Alan’s family background, and the events when Honor’s past finally catches up with her.  Although I knew that all would come right in the end, there were moments of great tension along the way, and I did enjoy that not everything was neatly resolved by the novel’s end.

To sum up, I greatly enjoyed The Knight’s Bride and recommend it to any fans of medieval historical romances.

You can buy The Knight’s Bride in print from Amazon, and other book retailers.

Author:

Publisher: Bantam

Date: 1990

Genre: Historical romance

Length: Novel

Availability: Print and ebook

Rating: ★★★★☆ 

Heart of the Falcon, set in ancient Egypt during the reign of Tutankhamun, has to be one of the most unsual historical romances I have ever read. While I found some of the characterisation a little thin, I must applaud the author’s achievement in writing a love story that is both believable for its time and accessible to the modern reader.

Back cover summary:

All her life, raven-haired Anqet had basked in the tranquility of Nefer…until the day her father died and her uncle descended upon the estate, hungry for her land, hungry for her. Desperate to escape his cruel obsession, she fled. But now, masquerading as a commoner in the magnificent city of Thebes, Anqet faces
a new danger.

Mysterious and seductive, Count Seth seems to be a soldier loyal to the pharaoh. Yet soon Anqet will find that he’s drawn her into a web of treachery and desire, where one false move could end her life… and his fiery passion could brand her soul forever.

Set against the glorious opulence of the pharaoh’s court, this is a breathtaking tale, rich with pageantry and aflame with unforgettable romance.

I should say that I’m far from an expert on ancient Egypt, so I can’t really speak to the historical accuracy in this novel, but as I was reading there was nothing that jumed out at me as false, or that didn’t ring true with what little I know of the period.  Anqet is a fiesty, self-sufficient heroine who has been raised to expect command of her own life, yet she recognises, even as she rails against it, that without a husband she is unprotected in Egyptian society and therefore extremely vulnerable. Unfortunately for her, the most urgent threat comes from her uncle, who as her closest male relative has a legitimate claim to her and her beloved estate.  I found that while Anqet does behave in some ways like the typical headstrong heroine, the consequences of her actions seem realistic and proportionaet given the novel’s setting.

Count Seth is positively dreamy. He is extremely powerful as one of Tutakhamun’s closest confidantes, yet is widely suspected by others in the court due to his half-Egyptian half-Barbarian heritage. He is at once within the inner-circle, yet never fully-assimilated due to his reddish hair and light eyes.  This, and other matters related to his background, make Seth an interestingly complex, somewhat conflicted character. Like Anqet, he is a forceful character, accustomed to living in a certain way and discomfited when meeting Anqet upsets this.

Aside from the looming threat of discovery by her uncle, Anqet’s story is complicated by the mystery in which her association with Seth embroils her.  I’m not a huge fan of mysteries, particularly when they detract from the romance plot, so I was pleasantly surprised to find this plotline both compelling and well-balanced within the novel.  I had my suspicicions about the culprit/s but I really enjoyed how the mystery unfolded, and how it was located in the wider political context of Tutankhamun’s reign.

I mentioned above some issues with characterisation.  The novel is fewer than 300 pages long, and with the amount of action in the book, this didn’t leave a lot of room for in-depth character development. At times I felt that Anqet and Seth’s emotions turned on a sixpence, and that the demands of the other plotlines propelled the romance aspect along more quickly than I would have liked. This, of course, in addition to the rich descriptions of the Egyptian setting which I absolutely adored, but which sometimes overwhelmed the characters. This is of course a matter of opinion, and likely something which won’t bother many readers at all.

In summary, I really enjoyed this novel and urge all fans of historical romances in unusual settings to seek it out!

You can buy Heart of the Falcon in print and ebook formats from Amazon, and other book retailers.

Author:

Publisher: Self-published

Date: 2009

Genre: Paranormal

Length: Novella

Availability: ebook

Rating: ★★☆☆☆ 

Note: The review is based on a review copy provided by the author.

Beautiful Sins: Leigha Lowery is the first in a series entitled ‘The Thaneaddus Chronicles’, set in a dystopian near-future world where the USA is riven by war and a man-made disaster which has blotted the sun from the west coast.  Leigha Lowery is a 16 year-old Detroit girl whose mother’s marriage uproots her from her home and forces her to move to the Dark Coast (as the western USA is now known) where she encounters all manner of supernatural beings.  

The premise is intriguing, and I did find the novella quite difficult to put down once I was about 20 pages in, but Beautiful Sins: Leigha Lowery has some serious problems which prevented me from enjoying it as much as I had hoped.  Read on to find out more…

Back cover summary:

The skies of the Dark Coast, the Pacific Coastline of U.S. States has been infected with a strange chemical reaction from a military experiment gone awry. Constant cloud cover rules over the lands. Leigha Lowery, a sixteen year-old popular fiction writer in the local free press is pulled from the only home she knows in Detroit, MI when her mother decides on an impulse to marry a doctor she’s been dating over the internet and moves to the small town of Banks, Oregon.

As she adjusts to her new life of wealth and power, she begins to realize that the rumors about the Dark Coast aren’t even close to what she’s witnessed. Prince Alexander Sommers, the son of King Royce, and heir to the throne has taken a fascination to her. He pulls her into a world of vampires, werewolves, witches, and many other creatures of the night that have decided to make the Dark Coast their home.

If you’ve read any of my other reviews, you may know that I enjoy a book which throws the reader straight into the action.  Put me in the middle of an unfamiliar situation, let it unfold piece by piece, and I am a happy bunny. This is a technique which takes some skill to execute, along with a very firm grasp of the world into which the reader is to be immersed.  Beautiful Sins starts promisingly in this fashion, but unfortunately lacks enough detail to make the setting intriguing rather than baffling.  The situation the US is embroiled in, with both civil and international war seems extremely dire, yet Leigha is able to go to school like any other teen.  I didn’t understand why the wars had such a limited effect on the lives of ordinary citizens. Perhaps there was a good reason, but without any explanation in the narrative it seems like sloppy world-building.

Leigha is an odd character. Her characterisation suffers somewhat from the author’s tendency to tell rather than show.  She seems at first to be a typical (if extraordinarily accomplished) teenager, prone to stroppiness and eyerolling, yet her (soon-to-be) stepfather Randy lets us know that according to Leigha’s mother “there’s nothing in the world that excites you”.  While teens are well-known for combining a worldy-wise attitude with moments of childishness, this inconsistancy makes it difficult to relate to Leigha or to trust  her as a narrator.  This meant, in turn, that I didn’t care that much about what happened to her. Coupled with the Mary Sue-ish level of accomplishments, apparently jaw-dropping physical beauty and ability to attract and enthrall people at first meeting, she seems both one-dimensional and way too good to be true.

The story picks up after Leigha’s family move to Portland Oregon (on the Dark Coast) and she has a new high school and all its attendant anxieties to deal with.  I enjoyed this part and felt that the writing was much more assured when dealing with these fairly ordinary teen girl problems.  Then, once Leigha’s familial connection to the court of  King Royce become evident, and she meets Prince Alexander, his son, the story once again became harder to follow.  King Royce appears to rule the Dark Coast as an absolute monarch but I was never clear on how this came to be, though I do find it an intriguing concept given the US’s proud republican history. Then there are vampires, and people being murdered horribly (which Leigha ends up investigating, in true Sweet Valley High journalism club style) and I’ll be honest, I found it hard to keep the threads of the story straight.

I could have coped with the confusing narrative, however, were it not for the serious technical errors which plague the story.  The author includes a note, apologising for the lack of editing in this piece, so at least the reader is forewarned. However, the sheer number of typos, confused words, syntax errors, grammatical errors, continuity errors and pacing problems mean that the promising original concept, and the enjoyable aspects of the book, are hopelessly obscured. I understand that the author now has an editor, and while I really hope that this allows her to showcase her rich imagination to greater effect in future books, I simply cannot recommend Beautiful Sins: Leigha Lowery in its current form.

You can buy Beautiful Sins: Leigha Lowery in Kindle format from Amazon, and in various ebook formats from other book retailers.

Author:

Publisher: Avon

Date: 2004

Genre: Historical Romance

Length: Novel

Availability: Print

Rating: ★★★★☆ 

Again The Magic is a prequel to Lisa Kleypas’s hugely popular Wallflowers series. Being the kind of pernickety person who has to read series in order, I had to seek it out before I started the series proper. I am so, so glad I did!

Back cover summary:

She gave him her innocence . . . Lady Aline Marsden was brought up for one reason: to make an advantageous marriage to a member of her own class. Instead, she willingly gave her innocence to John McKenna, a servant on her father’s estate. Their passionate transgression was unforgivable — John was sent away, and Aline was left to live in the countryside . . . an exile from London society . . . and he took her love.

Now McKenna has made his fortune, and he has returned — more boldly handsome and more mesmerizing than before. His ruthless plan is to take revenge on the woman who shattered his dreams of love. But the magic between them burns as bright as ever. And now he must decide whether to let vengeance take its toll . . . or risk everything for his first, and only, love.

I actually put off reading this book for nearly two years after acquiring it because the summary made it sound uncomfortably like one of those old school romances where the Uber-Alpha hero treats the heroine appallingly and gets away with it because he loves her so much. Ick.  In the interim I read and loved Kleypas’s contemporary series and found that although her heroes tend to be very Alpha, they don’t typically act like unmitigated jerks. Thus reassured I plucked Again the Magic out of my mountainous TBR pile and settled down to read.

The novel opens with the young McKenna climbing up to Aline’s bedroom window, and the first four chapters show how their close friendship blooms into a passionate – and wholly unsuitable – romance.  We can see what a well-matched couple they are and also, through the subterfuge they employ to see one another, how impossible their relationship is to sustain.  When their relationship is discovered and put to a brutal end by Aline’s tyrannical father, this seems to be sadly inevitable outcome when two people on opposite sides of the class divide fall in love.  Kleypas expertly manages these chapters to allow the reader to feel immense sympathy for McKenna and Aline, even when the latter acts in a potentially unsympathetic way.

The novel picks up again twelve years later, just as McKenna returns to Stony Cross Park.  he is rich, successful, handsomer than ever and bent on revenge.  Despite his palpable bitterness, and the occasional cruelty this leads to, McKenna’s actions stem so obviously from his deep hurt that it does not seem gratuitous. It become obvious very soon that the lovel between him and Aline still exists, and this makes his planned revenge difficult to carry out. The key point, I think, is that despite his past McKenna is not a cruel man. He has been hard done by and bears the scars on his nature, but he is not fundamentally harsh. As someone who dislikes displays of cruelty in a hero, this made all the difference to my enjoyment of the book.

Running alongside the main plot is the unfolding relationship between Livia, Aline’s younger sister, and Gideon Shaw, McKenna’s business associate and close friend. Shaw is the closest think New York society has to an aristocrat and plays that role to the hilt, appearing at first to be little more than a rakish, feckless sort of man who drinks too much.  Lost in his own ennui, an accidental meeting with Livia is the only thing that breaks through his studied indifference, and he in turn succeeds where others have failed to bring Livia out of her isolation.  Their relationship, while far from untroubled, provides a welcome, more light-hearted contrast to the rather angsty interplay between Aline and McKenna.

One of the best things about Again the Magic is the realistic way in which class differences are portrayed, and the way in which the contrast between the English and the Americans is discussed.  Kleypas does a wonderful job of making this central to the plot, rather than an initial difficulty which can be waved away once McKenna returns a wealthy man.  It is clear that in England he will never be able to overcome his origins whereas in America he can, to a certain extent, make his own place in society.  Shaw’s family are ‘old money’ New Yorkers and his sister regards the upstart McKenna with disdain, yet is herself unavoidable nouveau riche in comparison with Aline’s ancient familial line.  For a history geek like me, these details are lovely to see and make the book much richer.

In summary, I really enjoyed this book. The revenge plot does not at first seem terribly original, but the strength of Kleypas’s characterisation and the unique details with which she enriches the story elevate it into something special.  I’m eagerly looking forward to reading the rest of the Wallflower series if the quality remains this high.

You can buyAgain the Magic in print from the usual bookshops.

Author:

Publisher: Gollancz

Date: May 2011

Genre: Paranormal Mystery/Romance

Length: Novel

Availability: Print & Ebook

Rating: ★★☆☆☆ 

Dead Reckoning is the eleventh book in Charlaine Harris’s Southern Vampire Mysteries and, I’m sorry to say, quite a disappointing installment in this enjoyable series.  When I open up one of these books I don’t expect great prose, but I do expect a compelling mystery, a pacy storyline, and vampires (or other paranormal creatures) being very sexy.  Dead Reckoning failed to deliver on all counts and without my affection for the series so far, and my curiosity about what will happen next, I probably would have stopped reading before the end.  I’ll discuss why below the fold, with unavoidable spoilers for earlier books in the series!

Back cover summary:

There’s a reckoning on the way… and Sookie has a knack for being in trouble’s way; not least when she witnesses the firebombing of Merlotte’s, the bar where she works. Since Sam Merlotte is known to be two-natured, suspicion immediately falls on the anti-shifters in the area. Sookie suspects otherwise, but before she can investigate something else – something even more dangerous – comes up.

Sookie’s lover Eric Northman and his “child” Pam are plotting something in secret. Whatever it is, they seem determined to keep Sookie out of it; almost as determined as Sookie is to find out what’s going on. She can’t sit on the sidelines when both her work and her love life under threat – but as she’s gradually drawn into their plans Sookie finds the situation is deadlier than she could ever have imagined.

The novel starts dramatically enough, with the firebombing of Merlotte’s.  Sookie and Sam’s uncertainty as to the attackers motives shows that Sookie still has plenty of enemies and now so does Sam, since his shifter nature became widely known. I love being pitched straight into the action, and found this a very promising opening, enabling Harris to remind us of past events, get us up to speed on life in Bon Temps, and start the plot with a bang.  It’s a shame that this momentum wasn’t maintained through the rest of the novel.

The recurring thought I have about this book is that nothing happens. This is demonstrably false, because some fairly significant things do happen, yet I read this book less than a day ago and am already struggling to remember what they were.  Events unfold, characters enter and leave, but without a strong, purposeful plot and adequate time spent on the repercussions, they make little impression.  The few times when Sookie’s emotions do come through make this problem all the more apparent.  While it stands to reason that Sookie has become somewhat hardened to violence – and I liked that this was something she recognised and was troubled by – I felt more distant from her than in previous novels, which is strange given that she is the narrator.

On a related point, the lack of immediacy and action in this novel made Sookie’s prosaic narration almost unbearable at points.  With the plot already failing to capture my interest, extended passages about the mundanities of Sookie’s life were almost fatally dull.  I typically enjoy Sookie’s folksy voice, but without the contrast of more exciting passages, it became irritating in short order.  It also doesn’t help that Harris takes pains to recap aspects of the previous books in passages which, in a book which I was already finding dull, were unbelievably tedious.

Finally, as someone who reads with a keen eye for the romantic aspects of these books – and is firmly on Team Eric – I was disappointed by the portrayal of Sookie’s relationship with her vampire lover.  While I suspect that they won’t end up together in the end, and I can certainly understand them having problems, I didn’t see anything compelling in their relationship in this book.  It’s a classic example of telling rather than showing – they say that they love each other, and have mindblowing sex (in a wholly unerotic scene, btw) – but it’s hard to see much evidence of this love in practice.  Perhaps it is the nature of the beast – a long-anticipated relationship failing to live up to expectations – but I’m inclined to blame this on the flat, rushed feel which pervaded the whole book.

Ultimately I found myself disliking almost all of the characters and having little interest in the outcome of their schemes.  When I compare this to the completely awesome scenes in Dead and Gone (Book 9) when Sookie is kidnapped by fairies, when I was completely riveted and emotionally involved, I can’t help but feel disappointed.  Dead Reckoning feels like half a book, with the mechanics of the plot in place but most of the soul removed.

I’m sure I will continue to read the Southern Vampire Mysteries, but after Dead Reckoning I will no longer anticipate the next installment quite as eagerly.

You can buy Dead Reckoning in print and ebook formats from Amazon, and other book retailers.

Author:

Publisher: Harlequin/MIRA

Date: March/April 2011

Genre: Paranormal historical romance

Length: Novel

Availability: Print and ebook.

Rating: ★★½☆☆ 

Note: The review is based on a pre-publication review copy, kindly provided by the publisher via NetGalley.

The Vampire Voss is the first of Gleason’s ‘Regency Draculia’ trilogy, a series of paranormal romances featuring the Draculia: vampires who live undetected amongst Regency high society.  This was my first introduction to the intriguing sub-genre of paranormal historicals, and while The Vampire Voss wasn’t entirely my cup of tea, I think it will appeal to a great many readers.

Back cover summary:

Regency London – a dizzying whirl of balls and young ladies pursued by charming men. But the Woodmore sisters are hunted by a more sinister breed: Lucifer’s own.

Voss, also known as Viscount Dewhurst, relishes the sensual pleasures immortality affords. A member of the Dracule – a cabal of powerful, secretive noblemen marked with a talisman that reveals their bartered souls – the mercenary Voss has remained carefully neutral…until Angelica.

Angelica Woodmore possesses the Sight, an ability invaluable to both sides of a looming war among the Dracule. Her very scent envelops Voss in a scarlet fog of hunger – for her body and blood. But he is utterly unprepared for the new desire that overcomes him – to protect her.

The book opens with a prologue which pitches the reader into the heart of (male) Dracule society, located in secret apartments in White’s club, a place familiar to any reader of nineteenth century romances.  I enjoyed this aspect of the novel, the subversion or perversion of romance novel staples into more sinister features of this hidden aspect of society.

The prologue introduces the two principle Dracule of this novel; the dour Dmitri, Earl of Corvindale, and the rakish, insolent Voss, Viscount Dewhurst.  Voss, who trades in information and thereby makes himself unpopular with his vampiric peers, alerts Dmitri to a threat against the Woodmore sisters, setting the stage for the rest of the novel. This is all told from Dmitri’s perspective, and while this is a worthy technique in that it gives the reader an insight into Voss’s character, it also exemplifies one of my problems with this book.  While Dmitri is an important character, I felt that more time was spent on him than the narrative warranted, drawing attention away from the main plot.  While this was undoubtedly to set up the second book in the trilogy, and to provide an opposing Dracule figure to Voss, I found the focus on Dmitri to be excessive. Having read other reviews and comments in which the reader was more drawn to Dmitri than Voss, I don’t think I’m alone in feeling the narrative balance was a little upset. 

The book proper begins with Voss preparing to attend a ball with his rather dissipated friends, and ruminating on the Woodmore sisters’ predicament, along with a bit of his life story.  It becomes obvious that Voss, having learned the power of information during his human life, collects and disseminates it to preserve his own status and to keep others from wielding such power against him.  The reader learns that he has few compunctions about using a nameless, helpless woman to slake his thirst and has a reputation for lusty appetites. He is the archetypal Regency rake with a supernatural twist.

Angelica Woodmore is in many ways the archetypal Regency heroine with a supernatural twist.  She is a beautiful and vivacious, but feels confined both within her family as the middle sister, and by the strict rules of society.  She also has a power – the Sight – which is attributed to some gypsy ancestry and allows her a glimpse, under certain circumstances, of the moment of a person’s death.  As Voss well knows, this kind of knowledge is invaluable, both to brides wondering how long they might have to endure a loveless marriage, and to the forces on both sides of the war with Napoleon.  Voss seeks her out in order to discover the information he needs, and finds himself extremely attracted to Angelica and – more unexpectedly – caring about her.

I won’t rehash the plot which, despite some thrilling moments, mostly failed to hold my interest.  I must say, this was the last thing I expected to find with a vampire historical romance (three things I love!) but I had little trouble putting this book down and was often relucant to pick it up again. I think part of this can be attributed to the book’s position as the first in a series, requiring Gleason to set up the entire universe, along with the characters’ back stories.  I think this could have been accomplished more deftly, but it is sometimes a noticeable problem in series books.  As it was, the information was mostly conveyed in lengthy flashbacks or mental discursions which made the narrative drag land eft me – not an inattentive reader by any means – struggling to keep the timeline of the novel straight in my mind.  Gleason can write excellent action, shown in the scenes where a gang of hostile vampires crash a ball, or when Angelica’s safehouse is invaded, and I wish the rest of the book had been similarly exciting.

I think part of the problem is that neither the characterisation nor the writing were compelling enough to sustain the pace of the novel between action scenes.  Although I wish the exposition had been better integrated into the narrative, I found Gleason’s writing technically decent if not sparkling.  The main problem was that I really did not care that much about either Angelica or Voss, and so I had little investment in the outcome of their story.  As someone who really enjoys the reformed rake trope this was quite surprising to me.  Returning to my earlier point, I feel this is partly due to the fact that there is so much else happening in this book to distract from the central story that, between the perspective shifts, the army of peripheral characters and expository passages, I never really came to sympathise with the hero and heroine.  Without this vital emotional connection with VOss’s struggle for redemption, and Angelica’s struggle to trust in him, much of the latter half of the book left me cold.

This all sounds very negative, but although this book didn’t work for me overall, I was impressed with the world-building and general concept of the Dracule. The twists on conventional vampire mythology were interesting, as was the nature of Angelica’s gift, and though for me the book did not fulfill the promise of its premise, I am sure that many readers will enjoy it.

You can buy The Vampire Voss in print and Kindle formats from Amazon, and other book retailers.