They Sure Do Grow Up Fast

Today marks the 4th anniversary of The Misadventures Of Super Librarian. Time sure does fly when you won't keep your mouth shut for 5 minutes.

When I started this blog I had no clear idea of what I would talk about. Basically I saw it as a way to babble, and it was so much easier to update and archive than a traditional web site (I'm HTML stupid). It's quick, it's easy, and hey with Blogger it's free! And outside of this template I purchased last year, I've been running this bad boy for free for the last 4 years. OK, so my time is money, but that probably isn't worth a whole lot.

The Boyfriend stumbled across my blog the other day. He was bored and Googled me - which means I guess I better not start having any torrid online affairs. Anyway his exact words were, "I had no idea you were so into this stuff, how come you never showed me?" I suspect he was offended. I told him I figured it wouldn't interest him, given that 1) he hears all my library stories first hand 2) he's not a reader and 3) if he was a reader the last thing he would read are romance novels. We have very divergent personalities, which makes us a good couple (we even each other out), but it also means that my babbling about work or books can cause his eyes to glaze over. The trick is to babble about these subjects in small doses.

Of course this means I need to babble at length somewhere else, hence this blog. Four years and going strong. Today one small corner of cyberspace, tomorrow Queen Librarian Of The Universe. I'm still waiting for my tiara people.

Sex Fiend

My latest column is up over at Romancing The Blog. I wrote this column in a total panic Sunday afternoon. I usually have my columns for RtB written weeks beforehand, but I've been in a bit of a creative slump of late. I just couldn't think of anything remotely interesting to say. Of course, you might read my column and think, "Keep trying Wendy."

In a nutshell, I'm wondering where all the "nice stories about nice people" have gone in the romance genre. I'm missing those "sweet" stories, but I want "sweet" without the diabetic coma. No idiot heroines. No clueless virgins. And for the love of all that is holy, don't throw in an out of place sex scene if it doesn't "fit." I can tell. Actually, I think most readers can.

I love erotica, and I love sex scenes - but they don't belong in every story. Sometimes the tension in the relationship between the characters is way sexier than any acrobatic, handle-bar sex the author can throw in. Pamela Morsi is a good example of how "hot" tension and PG-sex can be, when it's done right of course.

So I'm not saying "Down With Sex!" or "Sex Is Evil!" I'm just suggesting there is a time and place for it - and it doesn't belong in every single book. So go forth, read the column and comment away.

Big Meanie

If I'm to believe the press release I have on Stacey Kayne, she's going to have four books, all westerns!, released in 2007 from Harlequin Historical. I just wrapped up Mustang Wild, her debut due out in March, and I wish I could say it was remarkable, stupendous and fantastic. Unfortunately, while I think Kayne can write, and there's enough promise here to make me try her next novel, Mustang Wild was pretty much a dud for me.

The first stumbling block is the first chapter. If you're able to swallow it, then this book is likely going to work for you. Since I found it highly improbable, it didn't bode well. Skylar Daine is a first class mustanger anxious to get her herd back. The villain back-shot her Daddy and stole their horses. Sky and her younger brother, Garret, manage to escape and their first order of business is to find Chance Morgan. Daddy Daines was in partnership with Morgan, and Sky needs to find him so they can thwart the villain.

Sky walks into a New Mexico saloon only to meet up with Tucker Morgan (Chance's twin brother). Before she knows it, she finds herself married to the drunken cowboy. How does this happen? Well Tuck wins the license in a poker game and drunkenly convinces the "angel" to sign the paper. Sky, having the sense God gave a bag of rocks, signs the paper without reading it, so anxious is she to get out of the saloon and on the trail. So they're legally wed, and have to wait until Wyoming to get it annulled.

Further complicating the issue is that Sky is holding the deed to the Morgan's Wyoming ranch. Daddy Daines wanted collateral on their partnership and in another moment of stupidity, Chance Morgan hands over the deed. Sky thinks the deed is really hers. Her father knew of her desire to have a "real home," and threatened with the prospect that his best worker might leave him high and dry, he lies to his daughter to get her to do this one last job. The Morgans are incensed. They worked hard for that ranch and no woman is going to jump in and steal it (well then don't give away the deed numb-nuts). But Sky is the best damn mustanger around, and they need her help to get Tuck's horses to Wyoming. Chance has proof back at the ranch that Daddy Daines lied to his baby girl, so they'll just have to put up with each other until they get there.

Assuming the reader can get past the improbable set-up, the romance doesn't do much to endear itself. Adversarial relationships are extremely hard to write, and I suspect authors keep trying because they like the challenge (Only Laura Lee Guhrke has made this plot work for me with her excellent pre-Avon romance Breathless). Sky and Tucker spend the whole blessed novel bickering. She's used to working as a trail boss, he despises the idea of marriage thanks to an evil stepmother (which begs the question - I don't care how drunk he was, why did he ask a strange woman to sign a marriage license if he hates the institution so bloody much?). They kiss, they fight, they kiss, they fight, they have sex, they fight, Wendy thinks about ramming a fork up her nose, they have sex, they fight, they defeat the villain, they live happily ever after.

Sky should have been my type of heroine, independent, tough, not afraid of hard work, but between her prickly nature, constant bickering, and her sexual naivete, I just couldn't muster up much "like" for her. What I really couldn't wrap my mind around was how a woman who has spent her whole life living on the trail surrounded by men could be so sexually clueless. Daddy Daines is hardly Father Of The Year material, so it's amazing Sky comes off as so incredibly sheltered. I didn't buy it.

I think Kayne can write a pleasing story, and I rather enjoyed Garret - but given this is a romance, I'm thinking it's a not good thing that I'm more intrigued by the heroine's relationship with her brother than the one brewing between her and the hero. That's just me though.

So Final Verdict = D+. I really, really wanted to like this one, but between the improbable set-up and the constant bickering I just couldn't make myself.

Naughty Bits

By now most everyone with any interest in librarianship or children's literature has heard about Scrotum Gate. A couple of thoughts:

• Are we really upset over a word? And scrotum of all things? Yet the people pissed off about this probably have no problems with their child playing Grand Theft Auto or watching horror movies. I love Americans. We're fine with violence and death, but mention a body part or sex and suddenly we're all Puritans. Times like this I wish the Mayflower would have sunk somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic.

• Yet another black-eye for librarians everywhere. We're misguided. We're clueless. We're raked over the coals no matter what we do. We don't censor and it pisses people off. We do censor and it pisses people off. We filter computers, it pisses people off. We don't filter and all of the sudden we're a bunch of sick perverts who want to expose children to porn.
  

This job ain't for sissies.

So it was rather timely when I read this quote this morning:

Tennessee Williams saved my life. As a 12-year-old boy in suburban Baltimore, I would look up his name in the card catalog at the library and it would read “see Librarian.” I wanted these “see Librarian” books — and I wanted them now — but in the late 1950s (and sadly even today), there was no way a warped adolescent like myself could get his hands on one. But I soon figured out that the “see Librarian” books were on a special shelf behind the counter. So when the kindly librarian was helping the “normal” kids with their book reports, I sneaked behind the checkout desk and stole the first book I ever wanted to possess on my own.

-John Waters from revised edition of Memoirs by Tennessee Williams. Full article here.

The great (and sometimes frustrating) thing about libraries is they belong to the People. And that means, all of the people - even the assholes we don't like. It's the only place on Earth where you can check your e-mail, get the latest Nora Roberts, find an auto repair manual for your 1988 Honda Civic, study for the GED/SAT/ACT, pick up tax forms, find out how to do your own divorce, learn how to cook like Martha Stewart, and maybe learn a little something about yourself.

Name me a young adult who didn't feel like an outsider at least once in their lives and I'll eat my shoe. Public libraries can be (and should be) a refuge. I'm sure growing up as John Waters wasn't easy, but finding Tennessee Williams had to be a revelation. Suddenly, there was someone out there who "understood." And even in the myopic 1950s, and even factoring in the restricted shelving, Waters found him at the public library. I'm sure this horrifies some parents out there, but think about it - Waters found comfort when he found Williams. Did Tennessee Williams really save his life? Hard to say. But one thing for certain, Waters as a young boy found out he wasn't alone - and who are we to take that away from him? If anything we should be rejoicing in it.

I'm not saying children shouldn't be sheltered to a certain extent. However, completely shutting out the world only hurts them in the long run. We seem content to want to raise a generation unable to think for themselves. Will reading a book that has the word "scrotum" in it teach them critical thinking? Probably not. But at the very least, they'll learn how to use a dictionary.

We Know They're Serious Now

In case you needed further proof that there is an erotica boom going on, what we have here is what Wendy likes to call "literary erotica."

Lying in my latest stack of review books was House Of Dark Delights by Louisa Burton, which Bantam is touting as an "extraordinary debut." Ah, OK. Sure, it's the first book for "Louisa Burton" but the author's alter egos of Patricia Ryan and P.B. Ryan have published a few books. Anyway, having worked in contemporary and historical romance, and historical mystery, Burton is now looking to explore the world of what I call, "literary erotica." It's not the best term, but it's all I got. Basically what we have here is erotica written in a literary style. Unfortunately it doesn't prove to be terribly successful for me, but you be the judge.

House Of Dark Delights is the first book in the projected "Hidden Grotto" series. Burton takes classical mythology and melds it with history and Victorian erotica. It's an interesting concept actually. Shake a tree in Romance Novel Land and about 300 vampires and werewolves fall out, but there aren't a lot of elves, satyrs and sexual demons in the mix. So kudos to Burton for being creative.

There are four main characters: Elic is an elf who can transform from male to female. His purpose in life is to sleep with men as "Elle", harvest their love juice, shift back to being the male Elic, then implant that love juice into the most worthy female. Naturally, she gets knocked up and the baby is "gifted." OK, I love to have little remembrances of my vacations but a baby? How about a magnet or snow globe from the tacky tourist shop instead?

Lili is a succubus and Elic's soul mate. Basically she has a lot of sex with a lot of men. Inigo is the satyr and his job is to be lecherous and have a lot of sex (seeing a pattern yet?). That leaves Darius, the most interesting of the bunch. He's a dijinni, a shape shifter who can "read" human desires. This isn't terribly desirable for him, because once he knows a human's secret desires he's obligated to fulfill it.

The story takes place in the French countryside at a secluded Chateau where they have all lived for centuries. Written as an anthology, there are four stories detailing their antics throughout history. The opening story takes place in present day where Elic/Elle is boinking a tennis star and impregnating his fiancee. Next we're in the 18th century with the Hellfire Club where Lili runs afoul of a vampire and Darius is doing the BDSM-thing with a cool Countess. Next we hit late Victorian with a prudish bluestocking who has a sexual awakening thanks to Darius and begins seeing her father's scholarly assistant with new eyes. And last, we have a time Before Christ where a druid must thwart his mother's mechanizations in order to be with his true love.

Frankly what's missing here is that something that makes me care. Oh, like character development. Burton spends a lot of time talking mythology and setting ground work. Hey, this is nice, but I want to be inside the characters. What makes them tick? It isn't until we're almost through the second story that any sort of plot begins to surface, which means for about the first 70 pages I was bored. If I hadn't been reading this for review, it would have failed my "hook me by page 50 or you're gone" requirement. A shame, since once the author drops her world-building and concentrates on telling me the story it begins to work a bit better.

That said, with this being a projected series, there isn't a lot here to "make" me want to read the next book. It's nice enough, but it lacks something. That "something" that gets me invested. The paranormal aspects are intriguing, since they are based on mythology, pagan religion(s), and classical history - but all of these characters seem more like "types" as opposed to "real people."

So it's a mixed bag. I didn't hate it. I didn't love it. Which means it's average so Final Grade = C. I vaguely recall that I enjoyed Patricia Ryan's story in the Burning Up anthology from a couple years ago, and I still have a couple of her historical romances buried in the TBR. Which I've heard are quite good but again - buried in the TBR.

Final Note: I'm curious to read more feedback on this book since I think it might get "lost." While they end "happily," the stories don't fit into a conventional romance mold. And while the writing style is a bit more literary, will the appearance of paranormal creatures and erotic sex turn off (Tee Hee) literary fiction readers? It will remain to be seen.

Mystery Kick

I like romance as much as the next gal, but every once in a while I get a serious mystery jones. Probably my dormant blood-thirsty nature, but sometimes I just need to read about a dead body. So I took the weekend off review books to zip through Curiosity Killed The Cat Sitter by Blaize Clement. One of my e-mail loops will be discussing it next week, and I thought I would have no problem getting through it over the holiday weekend. I was right, I didn't

The Plot: Dixie Hemingway (no relation), is a 32-year-old widow still grieving over the death of her husband and young daughter. She had a bit of a meltdown, which led to her taking an indefinite leave of absence from the Sheriff's Department. Slowly working her way back into the land of the living, Dixie decides to become a professional pet sitter. Yeah, it's a real job - she's licensed, bonded, the whole shebang. She lives on Siesta Key a ritzy-snitzy (according to my sister who lives in Florida) island off the coast of Sarasota. People go on vacation, are out of town, or just want someone to groom their pets - so they hire Dixie. It's a job she likes, she doesn't have to deal with people, and she loves animals. Sounds perfect right? Well it is until she walks into a client's house one morning to find a man face down, dead, in the cat's water dish.

The Good: I love cozy mysteries, but even I have to take them in small doses. Sometimes you read a cozy and you think, "I'm trapped in Stepford!" I like my characters to behave believably, and sometimes that tends to get lost in cozies. "Well fiddly-dee there's another dead body! So much for going to the Cherry Blossom Festival!"

Clement doesn't fall into this trap. For a cozy, this book has dark moments. Dixie is still surrounded by her grief, and the way she lost her husband and child is really heartbreaking. Also, the crime sounds "cutesy" (drowning in a cat's water dish?), but trust me, it has the necessary edge that a dead body would entail. I wouldn't go so far as to call this book dark - but it is darker than your average cozy.

I also liked the first person narration, Dixie, and the fact that this book has the least stereotypical gay couple I have ever read in any sort of book. What a nice, breath of fresh air they were.

The Bad: A few minor quibbles here. First, this one falls under my own person taste - Clement likes descriptive paragraphs. These are short (no 25-pages describing trees for instance), and while it serves to give the reader a nice since of place, I felt it slowed down the momentum of the story. This is my own personal "thing," so take that with a grain of salt.

I wanted more interaction between Dixie and the major players/suspects in the crime. There's some, but I think there could have been more.

Final Verdict: I read this book in less than 24 hours, so that's usually an indication that I liked it quite a bit. I've already requested the second book in the series, Duplicity Dogged The Dachshund from work. I know we got an ARC in, but it looks like someone stole it before I could. Damn them. Oh well, I'll just have to wait for a "real" copy. Final Grade = B.

One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

We need to talk about Karen Rose. Like, how is this woman not getting published in hard cover yet? Mark my words, it hasn't happened yet but it's only a matter of time. And if it isn't a matter of time, she needs to fire her agent.

Anyway, I wrapped up Count To Ten yesterday and once I sat my butt down and started reading I could not stop. Seriously.

I like my romantic suspense novels to be suspenseful first, romances second. This is naturally a holdover from the fact that I started life out as a mystery junkie. Sure the lovey-dovey stuff is nice, but if I don't find the suspense credible the book as a whole tends to fail for me. This is not Rose's problem, since she obviously believes in high body counts. In the two books I've read by her so far (Nothing To Fear and Count To Ten), she's killed off nearly a dozen characters in both. No joke. I've pretty much learned that outside of the hero and heroine, anyone is fair game in her novels. Don't get too attached to the grocery store owner, babysitter or fireman because they all could end up dead. Anyway, on with the plot.

Detective Mia Mitchell has appeared in other books, but what I love here is that Rose keeps her series very loose. I'm not hammered over the head with series-itis. We get returning characters but they don't stand around doing nothing. Anyway, Mia has just come back from disability. Her and her partner were shot, and she feels responsible. So responsible that she's been wallowing in guilt and sulking about. This didn't bode well for me, but luckily Mia snaps out of it once she has a job to do.

That job involves her new partner, fire marshal Reed Solliday. Reed has a homicide on his hands, which means kicking the case to the cops. He gets called to the scene when a house literally explodes, only to find out that the owners were on vacation. Good for them, bad for their pretty college girl cat-sitter who was there studying for her statistics exam. Not a way I would want to go - studying statistics. Anyway, she didn't die from the fire. She died from the gunshot wound in her head. But his arsonist isn't done yet. He has more houses to burn. More people to kill. And more women to rape. Busy boy our villain.

While a lot of the violence takes place off stage - there are enough details to make is suitably creepy. Frankly if you don't like violence, you shouldn't even be looking at romantic-suspense, but who am I to judge? Just consider that your warning. We have a lot of dead bodies and a really bad, bad guy. It's great, great stuff and the mystery reader in me was practically drooling.

The romance is also very well done. Reed is a single father to an increasingly difficult 14-year-old daughter. He lost his wife several years ago in a car accident, and has relied on "no strings attached" affairs since. Of course our boy is a bit of an idiot. He wants the relationship, he just doesn't want any messy emotional entanglements. So love is out, one night stands are out - so that leaves a very long dry spell.

Mia is married to her job. Engaged once, it didn't work out because 1) she didn't love him and 2) he wanted her to change. She's attracted to Reed, but is wary of getting involved because she knows how hard being a cop is on marriages and relationships. She's also got a lot of baggage involving her dead, asshole father, a sister who is in prison and a mother who has all the emotional warmth of Joan Crawford.

What I love about this romance is that neither one of them wants it, but it happens. They fight the attraction long enough, the tension builds, and when they finally get naked - whoa doggie! It's enough to peel wallpaper.

So we have a creepy villain, lots of dead bodies, and a good romance. I also love Rose's writing style which is very reminiscent of Mary Higgins Clark. Chapter breaks, alternating points of view, and plenty of opportunity to get inside the mind of a killer. A great suspenseful read. I need to go on a Karen Rose reading bender very soon. Final Grade = B+

This Is So Me?

The Lil' Sis sent me this YouTube video this morning with the subject heading "This Is So You." Yeah, the secret is out. It's not just casual Fridays here in the library world, it's also Synchronized Wreck The Card Catalog Day. Further commentary from Lil' Sis includes "Oh, and can you BELIEVE what she did to the card catalog!!!! That is just EVIL!!!" Yeah, but really what's the girl supposed to do? She's got to get that sexy geek's attention somehow.

And neither here nor there - I love the fact that card catalogs are still synonymous with libraries even though I haven't seen a working/updated one in years. The irony is that most of the kids watching this video or dancing to the song in the clubs have no clue what a card catalog is.

Well I'm Excited

First things first - Blogger made me switch to Beta Blogger. So now I wonder - to use labels or not to use labels? I like labels, but frankly this blog is almost 4 years old and over 600 posts long. Sure, I don't have a life - but to go back and add labels to over 600 posts?! Crap. Maybe I should take it a month at a time. I could have it done by 2009 at least. What do you all think? Opinions welcomed.

Back in January I read, reviewed and liked Lisa Lawrence's debut (at least I'm pretty sure it's her debut) erotic thriller Strip Poker. Incidentally, another book that I'm having a hard time recommending to people even though I really liked it. I did mail my copy to my sister though. Maybe I can convince her to do a drive-by review for the blog. Anyway, after finishing that book I was struck by how wonderful it would work as a series - and either Lawrence, her publisher or both must have had the same thought. Book 2 is coming (tee hee) soon.

Beg Me by Lisa Lawrence
Bantam Dell, $13.00, ISBN 978-0-385-34104-2
Publication Date: May 29, 2007

Description:

From Bangkok to London to New York to Nigeria, Teresa Knight travels the globe investigating an alarming murder mystery that leads her right into the heart of New York City's BDSM (bondage, sadomasochism) cult. In order to infiltrate this mysterious culture and its posh enclaves, Teresa is forced to partake in new sexual practices...and have some fun of her own along the way. But as she starts to unravel how two murders - separated by almost forty years and several thousand miles - can be linked to a larger, more terrifying scheme, she finds herself in very dangerous territory.

Observations On My Part:
I totally dig this cover, but dang that girl has like no hips! And yeah, the BDSM thing has been beat to death (tee hee), but I'm willing to overlook this since I really enjoyed the first book and the memorable heroine. And seriously, how can you not love the idea of an erotic thriller series? The mystery lover in me is giddy.

Isn't It Romantic?

I had a nice long weekend off from work, which I spent baking cookies, drooling on myself, and slipping into the occasional self-induced coma. I also haven't been reading, so I'm only about 30 pages into Count To Ten by Karen Rose. It's a long-ass book too, so I need to get cracking (550 pages! I suffer from an irregular heartbeat starting at 400) .

Dear Author has a similar post going today, and since I'm still suffering from Long Weekend Brain, I'm going to piggy-back on it.

I've never been a big Valentine's Day girl. Regardless of whether or not I'm in a relationship, I find the "holiday" much ado about nothing. Frankly, The Boyfriend will buy me chocolate on any given day - I don't "need" a "holiday" to condone my addiction. OK, it does help.

I'm so low maintenance I suspect I'm dead. I'm missing the Girl Shopping Gene, I have never expected gifts from any of my beaus, and while I adore good surprises - they aren't required. Frankly, all I'm looking for in a guy is someone who can hold an intelligent conversation, bathes regularly, and likes me. Of course to sustain any sort of relationship, respect and a sense of humor help tremendously - and I adore men who don't take themselves to seriously. Honey, your shit stinks like everyone else's so don't try to convince me you're better because you're 1) Hot 2) Book smart or 3) Think you're God. It doesn't work that way in my universe.

I've always been a bit disgusted with High Maintenance Girls. You know the type. It's our 2.5 week anniversary and you didn't bring me flowers?! I wanted to marry you until I saw the ring was less than a carat! And inevitably they have a closet full of clothes/purses that cost more than my college education.

I don't know. Maybe it's a Midwestern thing. The Boyfriend gets my rocks off when he does something sweet and unexpected - and typically it involves cleaning. I expect to come home after a trip away to find the apartment in chaos and dishes piled up in the sink. Instead, he loaded the dishwasher, ran the vacuum and cleaned the bathroom.

But none of this really translates into what is traditionally thought of as romantic. Guys like to gripe about Valentine's Day, but really it's very simple. So simple, that I'm going to spell it out for any men who unwittingly hit on this blog post. Here it is guys, the secret to great sex and a happy woman. Ready?

Just take out the garbage without being asked 20 times.

Don't surprise her with breakfast in bed, surprise her by doing the laundry. And while you're at it, mop the floor, dust the furniture, take her car in for an oil change, leave her at home (alone!) while you take the kids out to see a movie, or better yet - send her to the spa for the day while you stay with the kids at home. All day. Oh, and while you're at it, have dinner ready when she gets back.

This is all stuff women do every day, every single moment of our miserable overworked lives (am I laying it on a little thick?). So guys, unless your woman is a whiney, high maintenance shopaholic - skip the roses (but go ahead and buy the chocolate) and do any of the above. Seriously, she'll fall in love with you all over again and I guarantee she'll be more than appreciative when bed time rolls around. Of course, by then you might be too tired to do much of anything, but she'll think it's the best Valentine's Day ever.

Lone Cry In The Wilderness

Once again I read a fabulous book and I have no eff-ing clue who I would recommend it to. I hate when this happens. My knee jerk reaction after reading a fabulous book is to tell everyone and their dead grandmother about it. But this book? Well it's pervasive in it's sense of desperation and depression. Frankly, I can't see a single romance reader I know going for it. It's too raw. It's too dark. You can't put it in a safe little box. And did I mention the desperation and depression?

I loved Dirty by Megan Hart. Adored it to bits. All is forgiven Harlequin Spice. Maybe you guys do know what the hell you're doing over there (and trust me when I say that after I slogged through this I seriously doubted your sanity).

The closest book I can think of to compare it to is The Roofer by Erica Orloff. Different books, different authors, but the tone is very, very similar. Personally I think readers are going to either love or hate Dirty. There won't be a lot of room for middle ground. The Roofer is the same way. So if you read that, and loved it - read Dirty. If you read it, and hated it - don't even look at Dirty. Don't allow your eyes to rest on it when you see it at the bookstore. Trust me, it's not for you.

Elle Kavanagh is emotionally dead. An accountant by day, she spends her nights alone. She has a shrew mother, a distant drunk for a father, and a younger brother who ran off to California so he could be gay in peace. At one time Elle had a lot of meaningless sex. Sex and orgasms were a way for her to hide. To shut off the numbers in her head. None of this sex was very good, but it was a way for her to feel needed, wanted, and desired for a few furtive minutes. She gets close to no one. Has no friends, hasn't had a boyfriend since college, and the last thing she wants is attachments. Basically she's a man. She wants her sex with no strings attached. That said, she's been celibate for three years when the story opens.

She meets Dan Stewart in a candy store, and steamy encounters follow. The sex is great, but Elle is damaged beyond repair. Dan seems content to f*ck her brains out, mainly because he wants to see more of her. Dan likes her. The problem of course being that Elle has closed herself off from feeling any emotion.

This story is written in first person, so the reader has to "like" Elle. Her likeability factor is pretty much nil - but either the reader is going to "get" her or they won't. I got her. I knew this character. Hell, I knew her as a woman. I went to college with women like her. A sad commentary on life, but there you have it. Not every young woman out there believes in love and there are several women out there walking around in real life who wield sex like a weapon. It's a self-destructive pattern that is learned. No one springs out of the womb like that.

Dan isn't as well drawn as Elle. There are times where one wonders what he sees in her. Besides the fact that she's a challenge, I think he sees her as a puzzle. My experience with most men is that they want what they want until they actually get it. Elle f*cks like a demon but is emotionally distant. She lets no one in. Now a lot of men find the idea of hot sex and nothing more very appealing. And so does Dan. Until of course he begins to care about Elle. Until he stops thinking of her as a puzzle and more like a woman he's falling in love with. After a while, I fell in love with him.

This is not an easy book to read. Elle's life is not for sissies. While she has martyr tendencies, she doesn't become who she is with no cause or reason. The best way I can describe this story is that it's emotionally draining. It ripped my heart out and if I was the sort to cry over books (I'm not by the way), I would have cried over this one. It made the happy ending that much more poignant for me. While it wasn't happy, happy, sunshine, rainbows - I knew Elle was getting better. I knew she would be OK. And I knew Dan would be OK with her.

As for the erotic elements. This is one instance where the sex is plentiful, but it's not titillating. It serves the purpose of allowing the reader to see Elle in all her self-destructive, aloof, distant glory. It also allows the reader to see her open up. To be receptive to Dan's advances and the fact that he truly does care about her. Honestly, I would classify this book as general fiction with naughty bits. But again, the sex works within the context of the story. It's there to provide a window into their pysches. It's not there just for the sake of reading about a threesome or sex in a public restroom.

I loved this book. I found it emotionally challenging, dark and heart breaking. Now if I could just figure out who to recommend it to. Final Grade = A.

So I'm A Stalker

I know many readers of this blog don't dip into the mystery genre, but damn, this makes me happy.

Coming May 29, 2007:

Death By Pantyhose by Laura Levine
ISBN 0-7582-0785-9, Hard Cover, $22.00

Description:

Jaine Austen has never been able to resist the siren call of an Eskimo Pie, just like she can’t resist renewing her romance with Andrew, an old crush. With her bank account hitting new lows, she’s also just agreed to write jokes for Dorcas, a stand-up comic who throws her pantyhose into the audience as a punch line.

Not only is Dorcas’s act a bomb, she is heckled by Vic, a gorgeous fellow comic who is equally good on stage and in the sack. Unfortunately Vic loves performing in both venues. He gets in bed with a sexy waitress, a pretty new lover, and a sweet girlfriend while professing his undying love for each. Worse, he is two-timing his aging agent. Pretty soon Vic has an enemy’s list a mile long, and when he needles Dorcas one time too many, she assaults him at a club’s open-mike night.

Naturally when Vic is murdered with Dorcas’s pantyhose and that same Dorcas is standing over his dead body, the police arrest...Dorcas. They figure it’s an open-and-shut case although Jaine figures no killer can be that dumb—even Dorcas. But when Jaine sets out to find the real culprit, she is distracted by one dating disaster after another with Andrew—and she may not see the dark side of comedy until she faces the business end of a gun and a cold, deadly grin...

I think I've mentioned before how much I enjoy Levine's mysteries. And since I tend to read her books in one sitting, I'm left wringing my hands for a year until Kensington releases the next installment. She either needs to write faster or clone herself, because I sure as hell can't read her books any slower.

Funny Hooks

I know enough about the world of publishing to know that editors are looking for "hooks." That indefinable something that lures the reader into 1) buying the book and 2) reading the book. Back cover copy should be laden with hooks. You need to entice the reader. Ultimately, even with reviews and word of mouth, I believe it's these hooks that sell a story to a reader.

But it's funny sometimes what ultimately jumps out at us isn't it?

Case in point - yesterday I was browsing through publisher/distributor catalogs when I came across We'll Never Tell by Kayla Perrin, which is due out in March.

Description:
Essence bestselling author Kayla Perrin delivers a novel of suspense where a night of revenge turns deadly... Shandra James is a man stealer. As a pledge of the exclusive Alpha Sigma Pi sorority, she should know her place, and know not to throw herself at one of her sister's boyfriends. Phoebe, Miranda, and Camille decide to teach her a lesson one night. A lesson that involves humiliation but nothing more. Soon, the lesson turns deadly and the three women find themselves facing three new rules: never mention what happened that night, protect each other, and tell no one. Yet when a murderer comes calling, they each discover that rules are meant to be broken. We'll Never Tell is Kayla Perrin's most provocative, suspenseful novel yet.

Now this sounds OK. I'm not much for sorority girls (personally, I liked hanging out with the fraternity guys more - but I'm a ho like that), but the suspense sounds promising. So what's selling me on this story? Doesn't say it in the description, but the story takes place on a college campus that just happens to be my alma mater. Then of course I had to find out how Perrin came to set her story on this particular campus. I mean, we're not talking Notre Dame or UCLA here. Turns out she lives in Canada. Ahh, it all makes sense now. But thanks to my curiosity, my need for nostalgia, and the suspense thread that sounds like it might be fun - well I'll be reading it.

Sometimes it's just that simple - where the story is set. I plan on reading The Collector by Cameron Cruise as soon as a library copy rolls my way. Why? Remember all those wacky library stories I used to regale blog readers with? Let's just say I'm familiar with the story's setting OK?

Description:
She lies in a pool of her own blood. More blood decorates one wall in macabre finger paintings. The victim is a fortune teller from the Little Saigon community of Westminster, California--a seemingly random murder. Detective Seven Bushard wonders cynically if she saw it coming.

When local artist Gia Moon shows up at the precinct claiming to have had visions of another murder yet to happen, Seven doesn't buy it. Some say Gia's paintings give a glimpse into the next world, but all Seven knows is cold, hard evidence. But when her prediction comes true, his investigation becomes a hunt for a serial killer.

But Gia is not all that she seems. A link to her past points to a lunatic whose desire to complete a bizarre collection has become an obsession. Now, Seven is locked in a game of greed and murder with a woman he can't entirely trust, and a killer who will silence anyone who gets in the way.

And I think we all know by now that I'll read/buy just about anything if it's a western. I'm so predictable.

So thinking on "hooks" - what hooks you as a reader? If publishers wanted a guarantee that you were going to buy the book, what key words would they have to put on the back cover?

Gwen's Gonna Kill Me

I adore Gwen. Gwen is all-around kick ass. She's like "the" expert on African American romances, and she's from the Midwest. When I discovered Chassie West's mysteries, she loaned me the earlier books (which have since been reprinted) so I could "catch up." She also graciously loaned me two historicals last year that I'm just now getting to. See, Gwen is a huge Beverly Jenkins fan. Just adores her books to pieces, and when she read my blog post on reading a Jenkins historical last year she volunteered to send me Topaz. Well Gwen, better late than never - I finally got around to reading it.

I'm not sure how to give a plot summary without making the heroine sound like a moron. Believe me, she is not too-stupid-to-live despite the following:

Katherine Love is a newspaperwoman on the hunt. Rupert Samuels may look like a respectable businessman, but the bastard is actually bilking blacks out of their savings. It's a really an ingenious scheme. It's 1884 and the U.S. isn't letting the Emancipation Proclamation stand in their way. Hello Jim Crow. Well Samuels is convincing blacks to invest in a "blacks only" railroad - which you have to admit would solve that pesky Jim Crow issue as far as traveling goes. Of course, there is no railroad in the works and Samuels is taking their money and giving them phony stock certificates in exchange.

Katherine gets close to Samuels. A bit too close because he actually proposes marriage! She reluctantly accepts, because by this time she has seen the printing plates for those phony stocks in his safe. All she needs is a safe cracker, then she'll disappear in the wind well before the planned wedding.

Except of course the plan backfires. Samuels catches her with her hand in the cookie jar and she's seriously screwed now. Enter our hero, Dixon Wildhorse, a Black Seminole Marshal out of Indian Territory. He's in Chicago to track down Bart Love, Katherine's worthless father. Seems the old guy decided to steal Dix's cattle and sell them to the U.S. government. This is a hanging offense, and desperate to not end up swinging from a tree - Bart says, "Hey! Marry my daughter! She'll settle my debt." Looking to settle down and have kids - Dixon agrees. But he has to rescue his bride first.

What I enjoyed most about this story were the characters. I really think this is the main area where Jenkins excels. Katherine is forthcoming, bright, stubborn, beautiful, with a touch of sass. Dix is bone-meltingly handsome and charming. He's the kind of guy who enters this marriage of convenience, sets about wooing his wife, and takes his time when it comes to s-e-x. Seriously, I'm not sure how Katherine held out so long. I would have been jumping his bones within 2 hours of meeting him. And that would be showing some restraint on my part.

What doesn't work so well is the plotting, which lacks urgency. I know that makes no sense but I'm not sure how to explain it. The plot description would make one think that Samuels provides the conflict, but he's only a minor cog here. There's a lot going on - including a wagon train traveling west, a Lysistrata-inspired storyline for the final one hundred pages, jealous women, and Bart Love's continued antics.

The writing itself is quite good. Jenkins does have a tendency to "info-dump" on the history stuff, but given the proliferation of wallpaper historicals these days it was almost a welcome breath of fresh air. I also enjoyed the very light touches of humor in the writing style. Naturally humor is subjective, but Jenkins makes it work because she doesn't beat the reader of the head with it. The love scenes are plentiful, but a touch on the purple side. Certainly not the worst I've read (not by a long shot!), but "manhood" rears it's ugly head (Tee Hee). Nothing out of the ordinary though for the historical genre as a whole.

Ultimately though, it's the characters I stuck around for - and moments like this one:

Then he asked, "Are you scared of marriage?"

Katherine was so glad for the change in subject that she replied truthfully. "I am afraid of turning my life over to a man, yes."

"Why?"

"Have you ever had your every move and breath controlled by someone else, Mr. Wildhorse?"

Dix though back on the bittersweet history of his people. "Yes, I have."

"Is it a situation you'd wish to relive?"

"No."

"My point is made."

Final Grade = B-. Jenkins packs this story with interesting secondary characters, and she's written books about many of them. While I often times felt the plot drifted, the characters really sell the show here.

Dance, Dance, Dance

It's a Friday. I'm at work. So in honor of all people working on Friday, I say Rise Up In Your Cubicles And Dance! Dance Monkeys, Dance! This is actually the kind of stuff that librarians do after hours. Honestly. We pump up the Jackson 5 and break out into synchronized dancing.

Public service announcement - Jay says some naughty words and I'm totally gay for Rosario Dawson now. I think The Boyfriend is fine with this, just as long as I share her. This is probably a generational kind of movie, but I say rent Clerks II. I actually liked it better than the first movie.

Oh Look, He Brought Me Flowers

Nobody ever seems to pimp series romance. But we're talking Cheryl Reavis here people! Cheryl Reavis! The only author who has both a historical and a contemporary in my beloved stash of "keeper" books. You know how it is with most authors - you love them in one genre and when they switch - well you just can't make the switch with them. Reavis happens to be one of my favorite authors, but one of my more problematic ones. Why? She must have a life, because she doesn't churn out that many books. Oh well, I'll take quality over quantity any day. I'm selfish though. Can't help it.

She has a new contemporary coming out from Silhouette Special Edition in March, and it sounds really good! Can't wait! Take a gander:

Medicine Man by Cheryl Reavis - Silhouette Special Edition #1815, March 2007, ISBN 9-780373-24815-5

Description:

He was about to go to a war zone. He couldn't get involved with a woman now.

She was in a battle for custody of her son. She couldn't risk a new romance.

He was half Navajo; he embraced the spiritual wisdom of his ancestors.

She knew nothing about his traditions.

And both Will Baron's and Arley Meehan's big, protective, opinionated families opposed the two of them being together.

If they were smart, they'd walk away from each other fast. If they followed their hearts, who knew what might happen…