Toga, Toga, Toga!

I read a lot of "stuff" on the new job, one of which is TIME magazine (hey, they mention books). Imagine my surprise when my alma mater was mentioned in a story about colleges now teaching classes on porn. Yeah, porn.

I used to be drinking buddies with a group of guys who were infinitely qualified to teach this class. I can't help but think that they are all feeling supremely gratified, wherever they may be. Drink up fellas! I'd so be buying the next round, assuming we were all still living in the same neighborhood.

The One Where Wendy Admits She Has No Taste

Basic Instinct 2 is out this weekend, and I want to see it. Now before you all think I've completely lost my mind - I know it's going to be a train wreck. I have no expectations that this movie will be remotely good. In fact, I'm hoping it's really bad in a cheesey, campy, unbelievably over-the-top sort of way.

And I don't care what people say about Sharon Stone looking "old" - she's 40-frickin'-8!

Dear Satan:
I am willing to pledge my eternal soul, and harvest a few organs for the black market, if you'll see to it that I look like Sharon Stone when I'm 40-frickin'-8!

Sincerely,
Wendy The Super Librarian
XOXOXO

The Boyfriend thinks I've lost my mind. Then I just point out that I have to leave the living room every time Waterworld, Days Of Thunder and Top Gun hit heavy rotation on TBS. We haven't discussed my desire to see BI:2 since.

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme!

Vanquished by Hope Tarr - Medallion Press, July 2006, ISBN 1932815759

A devil's bargain.

"The photograph must be damning, indisputably so. I mean to see Caledonia Rivers not only ruined but vanquished. Vanquished, St. Claire, I'll settle for nothing less."

Known as The Maid of Mayfair for her unassailable virtue, unwavering resolve, and quiet dignity, suffragette leader, Caledonia — Callie — Rivers is the perfect counter for detractors' portrayal of the women a rabble rousers, lunatics, even whores. But a high-ranking enemy within the government will stop at nothing to ensure that the Parliamentary bill to grant the vote to females dies in the Commons — including ruining the reputation of the Movement's chief spokeswoman.

After a streak of disastrous luck at the gaming tables threatens to land him at the bottom of the Thames, photographer Hadrian St. Claire reluctantly agrees to seduce the beautiful suffragist leader and then use his camera to capture her fall from grace. Posing as the photographer commissioned to make her portrait for the upcoming march on Parliament, Hadrian infiltrates Callie's inner circle. But lovely, soft-spoken Callie hardly fits his mental image of a dowdy, man-hating spinster. And as the passion between them flares from spark to full-on flame, Hadrian is the one in danger of being vanquished.

Damn, this sounds good - and damn that cover is hot!

Wahhhhh, Ricky!

Danger, Will Robinson - serious whining ahead:

• I am still working two jobs and..am..not..happy..about..it..at..all.

• We replaced our crappy TiVo in the living room only for it to die - again - after a whopping 3 hours. What's next? Probably wiring since the DirecTV receiver in the bedroom is working just fine.

• I am still working two jobs and..am..not..happy..about..it..at..all.

• I just got done looking at two review journals that are geared towards academia and now my head hurts.

• I am still working two jobs and..am..not..happy..about..it..at..all.

• I need to go to the grocery store after work - along with everyone else in Southern California.

• I am still working two jobs and..am..not..happy..about..it..at..all.

On the bright side, the radio station I'm listening to the Internet just played the theme song from the A-Team and segued into Van Halen - ahem with David Lee Roth. The only VH worth listening to frankly.

Lovely Rita

RITA nominations are out, and since everyone else is doing it, I thought I'd give a run down on what I've read and ones that are currently languishing in the TBR mountain range that is my second bedroom/computer room.

In the TBR:

Heartbreak Hotel by Jill Marie Landis (autographed to me no less)

Blackberry Winter by Cheryl Reavis (she can write circles around most)

One Night In Texas by Jane Sullivan (I think I got this at the RWA conference?)

Abbie's Outlaw by Victoria Bylin

The Me I Used To Be by Jennifer Archer

What I've actually read, with comments:

In Deep Voodoo by Stephanie Bond - liked the suspense but felt the romance was lacking. Felt it would have been better served if it had been marketted as a cozy mystery.

Nothing To Fear by Karen Rose - great suspense, and a good example of how the Big Secret plot device can work.

The Texan's Reward by Jodi Thomas - a nice, sweet story, but the romance gets lost between all the secondary characters and the fact that the hero is separated from the heroine quite a bit due to plot developments.

His Secondhand Wife by Cheryl St. John - this was a strong "B" rated read for me. And yes, I'm saying it again, I really feel this author's best book this year was Prairie Wife even though the online buzz was all about HSW. Still, HSW was very good.

Ex And The Single Girl by Lani Diane Rich - OMG, loved this one! Loved it, loved it, loved it. Damn, but she's up against La Nora. Better luck next time Lani.

The One Where Wendy Loses Her Mind

Most days I like reviewing. I'll tell you that "I like reading books I normally wouldn't pick up on my own" or "I like discovering new authors." Blah, blah, blah. Right now I just want to ram my head through a wall.

If I were to assign grades for my last three review books they'd be D-, C-, D. If I don't read something good soon The Boyfriend might find me sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth, drooling.

The latest offender was In The Groove by Pamela Britton. I've liked some of her work in the past. I've also been indifferent about her work in the past. This is the first book that damn near killed me. Now, you're probably thinking it was the NASCAR stuff that sent me over the edge. No, in fact that was one of the few bright spots. No, it was heroine, whose name should have been Mary Sue.

One thing that's great about romances is that the women are allowed to be real people. They have foibles. They have dreams, hopes, and sometimes they have bad days. They can be nice, understanding or a bitch, depending on what mood you find them in. I tend to gravitate towards heroines who don't need a romance. They don't need the white knight. They'd continute to live life, dream dreams, and take care of themselves even if the hero didn't show up. The hero, the romance, the s-e-x, that's just all gravy to them.

Not Mary Sue. No, she's the kind who when bad things happen runs away or rolls over and dies. She doesn't swear. She bakes animal shaped sugar cookies when the hero has a bad day at the race track (God, I wish I were kidding about this one). She does nothing about the sleazy ex boyfriend who is 1) stalking her 2) obsessed with her and 3) damages her career by selling doctored nude photographs of her. She never talks back to people who treat her like shit (people who say she's "not much to look at" and even her own mother). She's always sweet and kind and just all-around sickening.

Who the heck wants to voluntarily read about this woman? Seriously. I mean, I know I'm a raving bitch - but I kept having fantasies that the hero would run over her with his race car. I'm convinced this makes me a bad person - but hell it makes me human!

Next up is The Burning by Susan Squires. Is it just me or is that one unfortunate title? "Darling we can't have sex tonight, I have The Burning." Ah well, the cover is pretty, and I am looking forward to this one. I rather enjoyed Squires' first vampire novel, The Companion.

The One Where Wendy Deludes Herself

Spring training is here, and Opening Day is around the corner. Yes, it's that time of year when Wendy's sense of delusionment reaches new heights - baseball season.

Every year my misguided hopes once again pin themselves on to the Detroit Tigers. Hope springs eternal, and I think that this will be the year. Yes, this will be the year that the Tigers make it to .500!

Hey, some of us like to aim small.

The Boyfriend and I were discussing baseball last night, and we did a little daydreaming:

TB: So if you could have your dream season, what would it be?

Me: I don't have to be realistic do I?

TB: No, go crazy.

Me: Tigers win the division, make the playoffs. Oh, and Johnny Damon breaks his leg, Randy Johnson's arm explodes, Jeter's leg falls off, A-Rod blows out his ankle and Mariano's head explodes.

TB: So basically you want all the Yankees to die. That's nice. Why not just have them all on board an ill-fated flight?

Me: Noooooo! Then they'll be martyrs like Roberto Clemente. Yankee fans and sports writers will wax poetic, shrines will be built - noooooo! I don't want them dead - just merely humiliated so the fans will get rabid.

TB: OK, who is the one Yankee you want to get knocked out?

Me: Johnny Damon. And it needs to be bad too. Those NY fans will be so pissed because they're paying him more money than God.

TB: That's good, but they could patch that hole. No, they need to lose Mariano. If he goes down it would ripple right through their bull pen. Farnsworth will crack under media scrutiny, and he'll be riding a bench. Then their starting pitching will be expected to carry more innings....

Me: Oh that's devious. Yeah, definitely Mariano. Where's a voodoo doll when you need one?

TB: *sigh* but the Yankees are going to be good.

Me: Crap, yeah they will. Bastards.

All-Consuming Passion

File this away under Stupid Crap Romance Heroines Do That No Sane Woman With Two Brain Cells To Rub Together Would Even Contemplate:

My reading has taken a nose-dive this month - what with working two jobs and The Boyfriend being unemployed (a situation that will be rectified on Monday!). In fact, Crescent Moon by Lori Handeland is only the third book I've managed to finish this month.

I've only read one previous book in Handeland's Nightcreature series, and I enjoyed it. In fact, I started out enjoying this one. The first person narration is engaging, the author's werewolf mythology is interesting - but (you knew there was a but coming didn't you?) the whole thing sinks under the weight of the romance - and I use that term rather loosely.

What is it with paranormal romance heroines who suspect that the hunky hero is a werewolf, vampire, wood sprite, tooth fairy, whatever yet they boink their brains out anyway? Who does this? Honestly. I mean, I know sex is a powerful thing, and it feels good and stuff - but the last thing I would do if I thought a guy was going to go all furry on me would be to ride him like a stallion.

Frankly, I'd grab the nearest and largest firearm I could get my hands on and blow his head off. Um, both of them depending on how scared I was. And something tells me I'd be plenty scared.

Am I the only one who finds this sort of thing insulting? Frankly it smacks of too-stupid-to-live behavior. Does the heroine have no self-preservation? Heck, who is that sex starved that they won't take the time to find another man they don't suspect of being a werewolf? Just wander into the nearest fraternity house for cripes sake.

Or maybe I just need to lighten up - which is entirely likely.

Seriously, I Need Help

Today's trippin' through the publisher catalog universe nets:

The Tuesday Erotica Club by Lisa Beth Kovetz, April 2006
(Hardcover $19.95 ISBN 1-40220-664-X)
Wickedly funny, deliciously sexy and poignant, this stunning novel depicts four women who turn a book club into a secret lunchtime gathering where they read their own erotic stories aloud. The women, aged 20 to 50, work at a law firm and reflect different worlds. Lux is a young, trashy secretary who, in the end, teaches them all what life is about. Brooke, a rich, debutante artist, is embedded in one of those relationships that would give most women nightmares. Aimee is pregnant and married to a man who is never there for her. And Margot, a brilliant 50-year-old lawyer, thinks she has it all but hasn’t had a female friend since she was seven. This novel is about their divergent lives and needs, and how they find themselves deeply bonding in their own very special community. Compulsively readable, The Tuesday Erotica Club will touch you in ways you cannot and would not expect.

Oh, and like Happy St. Patrick's Day and stuff.

Oh No, It's Happening Again!

When I was living the good life in Michigan some two years past, I had this great job where I bought adult fiction for seven libraries. I loved this job. It was good.

I've since spent the last two years managing a library in Southern California, and not buying books. I know this sounds weird to some, but I work for a very large library system so most of the ordering is done at our centrally located, administrative headquarters. Which is where I am stationed now - working in collection development buying adult fiction for all of our libraries. Trust me, it's a lot more than seven.

So I've literally been out of the loop for two years. I'd forgotten little details - like how publisher's catalogs and review journals are really darn tempting. Books that normally fall under my radar are shoved in my face and I find my shopping list growing and growing and growing....

Case in point, these two gems due out this summer. Take a gander:

Fiction
The Pale Blue Eye by Louis Bayard, June 2006.
When a grisly murder takes place on the grounds of West Point, a retired New York City detective, Gus Landor, who's moved to the Hudson Valley for his health, is recruited to solve the case. He's reluctant to get involved and does so only on the condition that he can enlist the aid of a cadet to be his spy among the others. He chooses an unlikely candidate, a young, somewhat eccentric, cadet named Edgar Allan Poe. Working together, Landor and Poe narrow down the suspects, all the while dealing with their own personal demons.

Non-Fiction
A Pickpocket's Tale: The Underworld of Nineteenth-Century New York by Timothy J. Gilfoyle, August 2006.
In George Appo's world, child pickpockets swarmed the crowded streets, addicts drifted in furtive opium dens, and expert swindlers worked the lucrative green-goods game. On a good night Appo made as much as a skilled laborer made in a year. Bad nights left him with more than a dozen scars and over a decade in prisons from the Tombs and Sing Sing to the Matteawan State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, where he reunited with another inmate, his father. The child of Irish and Chinese immigrants, Appo grew up in the notorious Five Points and Chinatown neighborhoods. He rose as an exemplar of the "good fellow," a criminal who relied on wile, who followed a code of loyalty even in his world of deception. Here is the underworld of the New York that gave us Edith Wharton, Boss Tweed, Central Park, and the Brooklyn Bridge.

I think my library card is about to get a workout.

Upcoming Books

Good news for Deborah Smith fans - she has a new book coming out from her small press, Belle Books, later this summer. The fact that Smith (as far as I know) is still without a major publishing contract is a travesty too horrifying to contemplate. But that's business I suppose.

In the They'll Publish Anything, So Don't Give Up Department - check out the Russian Criminal Tattoo Encyclopedia. Obviously it was successful enough, since Volume 2 is on the way.

The Mass Exodus

My children's librarian just got a new job. And here I am with one foot out the door. She's transferring to a different library - and I basically told her new boss and my boss - you can have her after you hire my replacement. Then whomever takes over the helm will have to go through the motions of hiring a new children's librarian.

In reading news, I'm not doing any. It took me the better part of a week to slog through Luck Of The Draw by Gail Link. A sub par review at TRR is forthcoming. My main issues concerned the conflict. There wasn't any. Also, the story takes place in post Civil War Montana and the heroine is a widow who is tutoring prostitutes and spending time alone with a Southern gentleman. A Southern gentleman who is also new to town himself. And none of the other characters see anything wrong with this except for one of the villains. Um, what is wrong with this picture? I mean, I know the west was different - but that different? And the heroine is passing herself off as a widow, but given that the townspeople hired her to teach their children, you think they'd be concerned with her extracurricular activities.

Sybil - I'm basically telling you not to bother. The AAR review pretty much says it all.

Next up is Crescent Moon by Lori Handeland. This is the second paranormal I'll have read by Handeland, and I'm finding I really enjoy her first person narrative style.

Yes, I'm Going There

I tend to stay out of review discussions, mainly because at this stage in the game they bore me silly. Writers will always dislike negative reviews. It's in their blood people. Reviewers will always get their back up when attacked because, "Dammit, I was just being honest! It's only my opinion! Ligthen up already - geez!"

And readers tend to be stuck somewhere in the middle.

It's worse if you review for an online publication. Because then not only do authors hate you, but print reviewers think you're some kind of hack with no qualifications. Actually authors think that too - but nevermind.

So let's talk "mean" reviews. The kind of reviews that authors like to claim abound online. The "This author is a moron, her baby is ugly, and she smells bad too" type of reviews.

Um, am I the only one who rarely sees these online? In fact, the only kind of nonsensical "This author sucks big-time!!!!" reviews I ever see online belong over at Amazon. And frankly, who the hell reads those?

I think authors are attacking the wrong fortress myself. By far, the granddaddy of all snide review publications is Kirkus Reviews. That's right - a print publication.

Now your average joe-schmo reader doesn't know Kirkus exists. They're high-falutin' and they cost big bucks. But librarians read Kirkus. More for the entertainment value than anything else.

I ran across a review for Once Upon Stilettos by Shanna Swendson (Yes, it's a sequel to Enchanted, Inc. for those of you interested). The final parting shot?

"If J.K. Rowling had gotten to about page five of her first book and then started reading bad, watered-down romance novels, the result might have looked like this."

Oh ouch! Only Kirkus could get away with that. If I put something like that in an online review I'd likely be spammed within an inch of my life. But I'm not bitter.

Adventures In Library Land

It's Day 3 of The New Job, and I'm just now getting around to a blog post. Here are some quick highlights:

Day 1 - I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.

Next work day - Back to my library where I'm running the show until they hire my replacement. The highlight? While throwing books into the dumpster (yes, I throw books away), I noticed a city employee walking through my patch of ivy behind said dumpsters. Then he bends down and biggest up this huge-ass iguana-type lizard. I'm talking huge! Head to tail, this baby had to be at least 2 feet long (Hey, I'm from the Midwest. We don't do lizards). Don't ask me what kind of lizard it was - but it has those wing-like ear flaps. City employee asks if he can steal the box I was throwing books out in. I said, "yes" but refrained from saying "just get that thing out of here." Actually, I probably should have insisted he continue to live in the ivy. He was probably eating the rats.

Day 2 - Back to new job, and a little less clueless.

Day 3 - Gawd, I'm glad I subscribe to RT. The library system hadn't ordered Micah by Laurell K. Hamilton, Bump In The Night, an anthology featuring J.D. Robb, or Full Scoop by Janet Evanovich yet.

And proof that you can't believe everything you read - Booklist gave a starred review to Jude's Law by Lori Foster (2/15/06 issue). Were they high? Seriously. I mean, I'm always right - so they must have been high. {Note to Foster fangirls - this is merely tongue in cheek. If you spam my comments I will break out my voodoo doll collection and pray that karma comes back to bite you in the butt}.

Day 4 - yet to come. Every day is a new experience in brain melting.

Drive By Post

I'm officially working two jobs, and since this is the only day I'll be at the library this week I'm currently buried. So a quick drive by post to let you know that my latest column is up over at Romancing The Blog.

The story behind this column is that I churned it out late Saturday night. I had no flippin' clue what the heck I was going to write about, but since I had a column due on Monday I knew I had to think of something and quick. Hey folks, it was the best I could do given that my brain melted sometime two weeks ago.

The History Of Violence

After a week of stress and not reading, I managed to finally finish The Roofer by Erica Orloff last night. I originally gravitated towards this book because of a review over at TRR. As a rule, I like darker fiction and have a special spot in my heart for crime noir settings. Think Gotham City on acid.

It's also interesting to note that AAR really hated this book. So we have one glowing review and one "hated it with a seething passion" review. I like that. I figure any book that can make a reader exhibit strong emotions (whether positive or negative) is a success. Let's face it - you always remember the books you hated or loved. The "OK" ones sort of melt into the background. At least for me anyway.

The Roofer tells the story of Ava O'Neil and her life growing up in Hell's Kitchen with her Irish mafia father. The story opens on Day One of Frank O'Neil's wake and the story unfolds in a series of flashbacks with Ava narrating along the way.

Ava is a young woman who drinks too much and has spent her entire adult life caring for her severely addicted (alcohol and drugs) brother. Tom is a cop who has lived on the edge for so long it's amazing he hasn't completely fallen off the cliff. Ava's life is defined by the suicide of her mentally ill mother, her father's abusive tendencies and love, and the men her father work with - guys with colorful nicknames like Uncle Two-Time.

Over the course of the story a reporter comes into their lives looking to de-glamorize these wiseguys and instead makes them household names. Hollywood comes calling and soon Frank O'Neil is rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. Even Ava falls in, by having an affair with Vince Quinn, the hunk who is playing her father in the film.

The violence in this story is pervasive. Ava's life isn't for wimps, and while some might see her as a victim, I never did. Life has made her hard, but she never wallows. She does what she feels she has too. And if that means picking up her brother off a bar room floor, pouring him into bed, and putting a bag of frozen peas on his head, then so be it. However Vince's arrival on the scene, along with her father's death, makes her yearn for a life away from Hell's Kitchen. A normal life. But she is bound to her brother by a terrible secret, which when revealed to the reader packs one hell of a wallop.

I can see why the AAR reviewer didn't like this book. I think she's wrong - but I still can understand her point of view. This is not an easy book to read, and I suspect Orloff didn't want it to be. Even with a happy ending (sort of), it's so bittersweet that the reader is left wondering, "Will Ava be OK?" Maybe yes, maybe no. But that's life isn't it?

Question For The Day

Am I the only one who could care less that The Devil In Winter by Lisa Kleypas is out?