Monday, March 10, 2003

I realized over the weekend that I'm old. OK - so technically I'm haven't even reached my thirties yet, so I'm not old - I just feel really old. Why? The Police are getting inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. 'Nuff said.

I started reading my 21st book of the year last night - Secret Pleasures by Thea Devine. Devine is my favorite guilty pleasure author - I love her brand of smutty naughtiness {eg}. I can always count on backstabbing relatives, evil-doers and wall-to-wall sex when I read one of her books, and so far Secret Pleasures doesn't disappoint.

Our fair heroine Genelle discovers her husband murdered after a night of debauchery with her new lover. Worse still - looks like her new lover is involved in his death. So in a misguided notion to protect him, she lies to Scotland Yard - who isn't all that fooled, except they think Genelle is the one who pushed the knife in the old guy's chest. Her shrew mother-in-law thinks Genelle is guilty, her own mother is only concerned about money, and her lover has left her high and dry. She opts to hire a private investigator - the elusive Rulan Roak. Only in Victorian England could one find a hero named Rulan....

No naughty naked games yet - but there's enough backstabbing in this story in the first 52 pages to make Aaron Spelling green with envy. I also am enjoying Genelle. While she's not entirely with-it in the brains department, I like the fact that she makes no apologies. In fact, after she catches her murdered husband in bed with another man (a much, much younger man) she doesn't dissolve into tears. She blackmails him! Gosh there's nothing finer than an enterprising romance heroine.....

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