Librarian Dress Code

I mentioned in a post about RWA Dallas that I saw Ruth Ryan Langan at the big ole' Literary Signing and had her sign a copy of the first historical romance she ever published - Nevada Nights. This little gem was published back in 1985 under Pocket's long defunct Tapestry line (of which this was #55) and retailed for the staggering sum of $2.95 (those were the days).

This book is notable for a couple a few reasons:

• It was the first romance I ever read
• A "cool" older friend of mine loaned it to me
• It has s-e-x in it! *gasp*
• It was the first "grown-up" book I read in one day

I wanted to scan my copy for you all to bask in the 1980s, clinch cover art glory, but it just didn't turn out well. Luckily I found an image of the cover art online -

I'm a little worried about the hero of this story. Looking at the cover, it appears he has no neck. Maybe instead of pulling him towards her for a scorching kiss the heroine is saying, "Wait a minute darling while I screw your head back onto your shoulders."

But I love the depiction of the heroine here. My life long ambition is to own a dress like that, and if I did, I'd wear the darn thing to work. Heck, I might even wear it grocery shopping. And how come my hair never looks that good? Oh yeah, you can't afford a personal stylist on a librarian's salary.

But by far the best thing about these older titles are the overwrought plot descriptions. It's like the editorial department pulled out their copy of Purple Prose In Ten Easy Steps when writing the following:

In Virginia City, in a cheap saloon, Cameron found the one man whose memory lived in her heart.

The gentle beauty had left the convent where she had been raised to meet, at last, the father she had never known. But his sudden death thrust her into the frontier town run by gamblers, drifters, and outlaws. Frightened but proud, she bought a gun and learned how to use it.

Then she came face to face with the man who had awakened her from shy girlhood to sudden passion. Now, he was a gunslinger who called himself Colt. Now, he seemed hungry to use her - in a deadly game of greed and revenge!

How 1980s can you get? Seriously. And bless her heart, Langan really pulls out all the stops for this one. Convent raised heroine? Check. Mysterious gunslinger hero? Check. Soap opera plot involving the heroine's long lost family - most of whom are not very happy to see her? Check and check.

I was either 14 or 15 when I first read this and have to say that as a dewy-eyed teenager that I thought this was just about the most exciting book I'd ever read. Naturally I ordered a copy online some years later and reread it. Needless to say, it didn't stand the test of time - but what a great blast from the past! I easily understood and recalled how and why I found this book so riveting as a teen. It was a nice trip down Nostalgia Lane, but not a book I recommend that people run out and order. Besides, having read some of Langan's more recent work, I'm here to testify that she's gotten better with practice.

Still, I love to talk about it - if only because it's a bit of an oddity. I mean, when most people talk about the first romance novel they ever read it's usually written by Barbara Cartland or Kathleen Woodiwiss. Me? It was this little western from an author who has gone on to publish more than 80 novels. Really, it's kinda cool. It might also explain my current western romance addiction. Maybe Langan planted some sort of subliminal message in the text that short-circuited my hormonal, impressionable teenage brain. "You will love westerns. You will read westerns. You will buy westerns."

Now it's your turn. I encourage everyone to post in the comments, or post on your own blog, about the first romance novel you ever read. I'll even make it very low pressure - I won't tag anyone to start with.

Showing My Ignorant Underpanties - Again

Before we go any further, please feel free to bet amongst yourselves how much longer Kristie will be on speaking terms with me. For those of you who don't know (there might be one or two of you in Siberia), Dreaming Of You by Lisa Kleypas is probably Kristie's all time favorite romance novel. Here, at long last, is my take on it.

Description:

In the shelter of her country cottage, Sara Fielding puts pen to paper to create dreams. But curiosity has enticed the prim, well-bred gentlewoman out of her safe haven -- and into Derek Craven's dangerous world.

A handsome, tough and tenacious Cockney, he rose from poverty to become lord of London's most exclusive gambling house -- a struggle that has left Derek Craven fabulously wealthy, but hardened and suspicious. And now duty demands he allow Sara Fielding into his world -- with her impeccable manners and her infuriating innocence. But here, in a perilous shadow-realm of ever-shifting fortunes, even a proper "mouse" can be transformed into a breathtaking enchantress -- and a world-weary gambler can be shaken to his cynical core by the power of passion...and the promise of love.

What I Liked: The hero, Derek Craven, carries this entire book. There is no doubt in my mind that the reason this was voted #6 on AAR's 100 Top Romances Poll is because of him. Literally born in a gutter, raised on the streets, with no family of his own, this is a self-made man thumbing his nose at "polite" (and I use that term loosely) English society. In a sub genre populated by Dukes and Earls - it's downright refreshing to read about a "common man" and it was damn near revolutionary back in 1994 - which is when this book was first published.

Also, I like Kleypas' writing. There's a nice flow to it, it's easy to read, and the pages whiz by. I'm glad I have several (several) more of her books in my TBR.

What I Didn't Like: Well, take away Derek Craven and there just ain't a whole lot to hang my hat on. Our heroine, Sara, runs hot and cold for me. One minute she does something stupid (save me from heroines who attend debauched costume balls while in disguise), the next she's downright kick-ass (shooting a ruffian harming Derek, breaking things off with her mama's boy fiance). In the end, I tend to fall on the side of "liking her" but she straddles the line for the majority of the book.

I also felt that Derek and Sara didn't spend nearly enough quality time together before deciding they were in love. In fact, Derek comes off as obsessed more often than not. There is a separation during the middle chapters, but that didn't bother me. It was the early scenes where Sara is spending all her time at Derek's club not being with Derek, but rather the multitude of servants.

Last but not least, Lord deliver me from the Evil, Psychotic Other Woman Villainess. Now, this isn't entirely Kleypas' fault. I probably would have tolerated this conflict well enough if I had read this book back in 1994, but now it just tends to get my feminist panties in a bunch. That and it's a plot device that's been trotted out ad nauseam in historical romances since then. Also, the actions of this villainess that cause Derek and Sara to finally hook up? Well, I found it forced. Really forced. But I'm a big enough person to admit that this falls under Personal Preference, so while it annoys the stuffing out of me, it will work for a lot of other readers.

So final verdict? As much as I loved Derek Craven, there just wasn't much else about this story that worked all that well for me. Final Grade = C+. Right about now someone might want to break the smelling salts out for Kristie. Me? I'm off to flog myself in the corner. I met Kleypas at RWA and a nicer woman you will never meet. Painfully nice. So nice that God will probably smite me for posting this review. Of course if He does show up to finish me off maybe I'll get time off for good behavior if I mention I liked Suddenly You better?

The End Of An Era

OK, that's probably overstating since the era began in 1999. I have handed in my official resignation over at The Romance Reader and The Mystery Reader. And I can assure you I didn't come to this decision without feelings of guilt and much dithering on my part.

I started reviewing shortly after I rediscovered romance (although my flirtation with the genre when I was a teen was very brief). Because of this, and the snail's pace I tend to read at, readers are always shocked by how many Big, Huge, Colossal Authors I have never, ever read. Hey, I'm sure Julie Garwood is great and all, but I have this pile of midlist and debut writers I need to read and write reviews for thankyouverymuch. But it was fun. I discovered great authors (Susan Wiggs, Maggie Osborne, Emma Holly, Maureen McKade, Megan Hart, and many others). I also read very good books that I probably wouldn't have discovered on my own (mostly romantic comedy or books with cartoon covers). The flipside is that I slogged through books that made me want to stab my eyes out with a spoon.

But for a while the good did outweigh the bad, and frankly it looked great on my resume. Plus when I was losing my mind working as a library branch manager, one who had no time for collection development because I was too darn busy unclogging toilets and having people scream at me about their overdue fines, reviewing "kept my hand in" so to speak.

But now? Now I'm just tired. After almost ten years it's become too much like a job. I love my kick-ass library job (buying fiction for 33 libraries is no hardship), but I'm currently suffering from Death By Committee (the un-fun part of this job). Seriously, my brain is draining out through my ears. I also have succumbed to a serious case of TBR anxiety. I think the time has come to read through some of the books I've collected over the years - and to, oh I don't know - read what I bloody well want to.

The Boyfriend thinks I should keep on chugging along with the reviewing gig - mostly because of the whole "looks good on your librarian resume" thing. And he has an extremely valid point - but it doesn't make me any less tired. I used to look forward to getting review books in the mail - now I have this overwhelming sense of dread and exhaustion when I see a package sitting up against my front door.

And how wrong is that? Getting books in the mail is supposed to be fun!

I'm not saying I'll never go back to reviewing in some sort of official capacity. It's just for now I'm taking a very long, possibly permanent, break from it.

But you're probably wondering - what does this mean for the blog? Well I'm still going to be reading, so I'll still be posting reviews here. It's just for a while you might not see a whole lot of "new" books featured. I really, desperately, need to get my colossal stack of books under control, which means reading through some of the backlog I've accumulated. Hey, which could be just as fun because not all the books I have at home are out-of-print and who doesn't love adding to the used bookstore shopping list?

Will I be taking review requests for the blog? Maybe - but I don't suspect I'll accept very many, and it's something I don't suspect I'll instate anytime soon. While I admire what Jane and Sybil are able to feature on their blogs, I'm one lowly little librarian (cue the violin) - one who is freakin' exhausted. So if you're an author, feel free to e-mail me (see sidebar), but I might turn you down. It's nothing personal. Either way, I really should post some sort of "review guidelines." For the time being, the grading scale on the sidebar is just going to have to do.

Old Lady

Something happened to me last night that made me realize how old I am. I got home from work, hit the couch, turned on the ball game and realized how excruciatingly tired I was. I was wasted. I feel asleep during the 9th inning, that's how bad it was. I woke up long enough for The Boyfriend to say to me, "The Tigers won, now go to bed." Which I did. Before 9PM.

Not sure what my issue was, but The Boyfriend thinks I'm still recovering from RWA Dallas. I flew back on a Sunday, ran around like a crazy woman (in between a 4 hour nap), then was back at work for a full week on Monday. We won't mention last weekend - it's a blur.

I work on a flex schedule (thank you baby Jesus), so have tomorrow off. Better still? The Boyfriend's car will be in the shop, so he'll have to take my car to work - which means I will be stuck at home, car-less, all day. No errand-running. Certainly, I'll have household drudgery to perform, but after that I plan on playing with my TBR mountain range, soaking up Law & Order reruns and getting some reading done out in the sunshine.

First order of business is definitely my TBR. Even though it caused The Boyfriend to suffer a minor stroke, I went out and bought a new, larger Rubbermaid tote. The plan is to take the two smaller totes I currently have devoted to historical romance, and combine as much as possible into the one larger one. Then I hope I can get all of the books I currently have lying about in boxes packed away in the empty tote(s). I also need to do a little reorganizing - pulling out books I'd like to read sooner rather than later. Oh, and I also have some newer books to add to my LibraryThing account.

It's exhausting being a book junkie.

This weekend also marks a return visit of my Detroit Tigers to the area - so I'll be at the Saturday day game, likely sweating to death and getting a sunburn (SPF 45 here I come!). Once again we'll be sitting along the third base line, and once again I'll be throwing my panties at Pudge Rodriguez. Yippee!

Rambling On About England

So I haven't been reading much. This will likely make Kristie frothing mad since I'm currently neglecting Dreaming Of You by Lisa Kleypas - for which I can only say, it's not the book, it's me. I just can't seem to get into a groove. That said, I'm half in love with a secondary character, Lily, who is the heroine from the companion book, Then Came You. Anyone, anyone? The only thing I've heard about it from a couple of sources is "I liked it, but not as much as DOY." So is this bad boy worth tracking down? Opinions welcome, cause seriously I have a major girl-crush on Lily.

(There I go again, gushing about the heroine and ignoring the hunky hero beefcake. Typical)

I just need to sit my butt down and read. It's that simple, but my mind seems to be distracted by things like work, household drudgery and baseball. I need to find my inner-Jedi and clear my mind of all distractions.

I think I might have mentioned on the blog a time or two (or three) that I'm a little (OK, a lot) burnt out on English historicals. For a while I suspected it was overkill left over from my college days (where I earned a dusty degree in British history) - but now I think it's more likely that I'm sick of rich white people. I just have a hard time believing that only Dukes and Earls were capable of falling in love. That, and when it comes to Upstairs, Downstairs, I've always been more of a downstairs sort of girl. Even when I was "wasting my time" on that liberal arts degree that got me into library school. I was much more interested in learning about the working class than, say, the movers and shakers among the titled and politicos.

It's probably the ugly American in me. It probably also explains why I like westerns so darn much.

So needless to say I'm always on the lookout for English historicals that feature "the little people." Which means I've collected a ton of Lisa Kleypas books over the years. Frankly, she's the only one who consistently seems to explore the "lower" classes, which means the reader gets to see a bit of the English societal underbelly. And so far it's one of the main things I'm really enjoying about Dreaming Of You.

Yes Kristie, I'll keep reading.

Springtime For Hitler

I happened across this cover flat while I was at RWA. What does this cover art say to you? Erotic? Contemporary? Or as The Boyfriend mused, "Transvestite dominatrix?" Yeah, it really is a laugh a minute living with him.

Well whatever it says to you, I'd hazard a guess that it didn't scream Nazi Germany. Don't believe me? Here's the back cover blurb:

Sophie de Havilland fled London and her past, vowing never to return. In Germany she sought solace, with her aunt, and couldn’t help but admire how the Third Reich had reclaimed a country so near ruin. But soon the veneer crumbled. Beneath the frenetic nightlife of 1939 Berlin, the swirling parties with the dashing SS in their night-black uniforms and their beautiful dames, she saw cancer growing. Stories of an impossible nature—terrible stories, terrible crimes—she began to believe.

These Nazis were Germany’s demon lover: handsome, fearsome, faithless, murderous. Her aunt had been right to seek escape. But, was it possible? One man offered hope: a handsome half-American. But while his spicy scent and strong arms seduced her with safety, the lightning on his collar and his searing blue eyes reminded her that sometimes the handsomest faces hid perfidious intent.

Elspeth McKendrick is another name for Morag McKendrick Pippin, who has written a couple of other historical romances in "unique" time periods. One wonders on the name change. This too is an unusual setting and doesn't sound that different from her previous releases (it's not like she's switching from writing sweet historicals to erotic paranormal here). One hopes the name change isn't because of previously sluggish sales (and I know nothing about her sales - I'm just wondering out loud here).

As for this book, I'll probably try it - although I wonder how well it will do in the market place with an odd title and weird cover. I suspect Dorchester was shooting for a Cabaret look, but honestly it falls a wee bit short.

Time will tell, but gotta say that it's nice to see someone taking a chance on historical romances set in the 20th century. Laydown date is August 28.

Better Late Than Never

Longtime readers of this blog will recall that I've mentioned once or twice what an excellent gift-giver The Boyfriend is. Now, my birthday was a couple of weeks ago - but the poor guy was struck down by the Back Order Brigade. So that means my presents just got here this weekend.

First, another Detroit Tigers jersey for my collection. Because frankly, a girl can't have too many shirts declaring her love for her team.

Second, this is what greeted me after my afternoon out with Rosie and Nikki:

My very own lounge chair! He did give me clues: 1) It will help with your reading 2) It couldn't fit in his car so had to be delivered. I also am the resident Bill Payer around here, so I knew he bought it at Home Depot and it cost a decent amount of money (we're not talking $20 here).

I had no idea. None. My first thought was a book case/shelf to which Mr. Smarty Pants replied, "That wouldn't help you read Wendy, it would just help you horde more books." Ouch, the truth hurts.

Now all I need is a cabana boy to massage my feet while I'm reading and to fetch me mint juleps upon request.

But back to yesterday - yes, I met Rosie and Nikki! Well, I'd already met Rosie - semantics. We gorged ourselves on yummy cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory, then I let them paw through the books I culled from my massive, out of control TBR mountain range. They weren't nearly as greedy as I'd hoped they'd be, despite my insistence to "Take whatever you want! Anything at all! Help yourself!"

In other news, I scored the audio version of Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows at Costco yesterday. I'm currently ignoring all blog posts on the subject and have threatened to throw large, heavy objects at family, friends and/or coworkers who breathe a word about the book to me. This is one instance where I don't want any spoilers.

Mission From God

Reading is, like, totally cool Auntie Wendy!
Their mother calls this their Jake and Elwood period.

This weekend, the sheer joy of reading will enjoy an all-to-brief moment back in the spotlight. You might have heard by now - a little book is set to take it's bow tomorrow (and I say that jokingly since I peaked at a work copy and it's 759 pages long). And while snobby literary critics are bemoaning the fact that "infantile" adults are reading children's books (pooh on them!) and others are bemoaning how the series is really poorly written and nobody should waste their time on it - all I can do is sing the praises to the saints above that people are losing their damn minds over a book.

That bears repeating - a book. They're going gah-gah nutso over a book. A book not written by O.J. Simpson. Seriously people, this is all it takes to make my little librarian heart go pitter-patter.

As for me, I am still undecided on what I'm going to do. I was going to buy the book on Saturday, but now I'm thinking I'll spend the extra bucks and get it on audio. See, I've listened to the previous six books on audio. Haven't "read" a single one, and I'm afraid if I try to read #7 I'll start missing Jim Dale too much and get distracted.

Oh well, I still have a few hours to hem and haw about it...

Quite Contrary

I've actually seen/heard some comments about Elizabeth Lane's lastest Harlequin Historical, The Stranger, most of them ranging from very mixed to less than positive. I picked this one up at the RWA Literacy Signing and looking for a shorter, fast read, started it right away. Have to say, I liked this one quite a bit.

Laura Shafton is a young bride when her life is shattered. Riding up to her New Mexico ranch are three disreputable looking men. She wants them gone, but her husband is more trusting (read: stupid) and invites them to stay for a meal. As one can imagine, it goes downhill quickly with Laura begging for the life of her unborn child, almost being raped and her husband dying from a gunshot wound.

Fast forward five years and Caleb McCurdy is riding up to Laura's ranch once again. He managed to save her when his half-brother tried to rape her, but he could do nothing for her husband. He convinced his older half-brother to let her live, and having spent the last five years rotting in prison after his brothers hung him out to dry, he's making his way back to her ranch to find out whatever happened to her. Caleb was young and foolish, failing to see the kind of men his brothers were until it was too late. He's older and wiser now, and has a debt to pay.

He's greeted at the door by Laura holding a loaded shotgun. The altercation with his brothers has left her physically scarred and an emotional mess. She also fails to recognize Caleb, who has grown from scrawny teen to rugged, world-weary man. He convinces her to let him do some repairs around her ranch in exchange for food and a place to sleep. She reluctantly agrees, thanks in part to some trouble her young son, Robbie, lands himself in.

This story is my kind of western - gritty, dark and not always easy to read. Lane pulls no punches, and what Laura survives is beyond traumatic. The fact that she does survive it makes the reader admire her beyond measure. I also enjoyed how Caleb's teenage puppy love grows into respect for a woman who has fought to hang on to the ranch so her son will have an inheritance.

Most of the negative comments I have heard about The Stranger center around the convenience in which one of the plot points gets wrapped up - a neighboring widower who wants to marry Laura. Since Laura has no desire to marry him, and never encourages him, the convenience in which Lane ends this aspect of the story didn't bother me. It's either going to work for readers, or not - and it worked well enough for me.

At a recent used bookstore going-out-of-business sale, I picked up several of Lane's older and out of print HH titles. Now I'm glad I did. I'll definitely be reading more. Final Grade = B

What I Love About You

As much as I love erotica, the recent erotic-romance boom has left me largely unmoved. The books/authors that have worked for me are the ones I would classify as "erotica with romantic elements." I truly love romance, but for erotica I'm not necessarily looking for a love story. I'm also not necessarily looking for titillation. What I am looking for is character depth and a story that challenges preconceived notions of female sexuality. This has apparently been a tall order to fill, and for a while only Emma Holly was consistently delivering. Well, looks like I can now add Megan Hart to the list. Kudos to Harlequin Spice for snatching her up, because she's easily running away with my Biggest Discovery of 2007 award.

Broken tells the story Sadie, a psychologist living vicariously through the erotic stories that Joe tells her on the first Friday of every month when they meet for lunch. Joe might just hold the record for Most One Night Stands, and as he tells his stories (some sad, some funny, some very sexy), Sadie places herself in the starring female role. In reality, Sadie goes to work, then comes home to her husband - a brilliant, creative, maddening man she fell in love with in college. Adam is a writer, a poet, an exquisite lover, until a skiing accident turns him into a quadriplegic. They change, their marriage changes, and Sadie walks in a fog - lost until she finds Joe's stories that leave her feeling part guilty and part desperate.

What I loved about this book is that Hart makes you feel desperate right along with Sadie. This is a broken woman, with broken relationships, a woman who has lost herself and resigned herself to playing a role. She is who people expect her to be. She loves her husband, but the stress of his condition has taken a toll on their marriage. She's emotionally cheating, but she's so desperately hungry for anything remotely emotional the reader can't help but bleed for her. This is a woman who breaks down and sobs after a massage when she realizes nobody has physically touched her in a very long time.

I love how Hart never makes things easy for her characters. There are ugly realities in this story - everything from Adam's paralysis and his moods to Joe's inability to commit. I don't always like these characters, and I suspect Hart doesn't want me to. To unconditionally like them is to welcome complacency. You want to understand them, flaws and all, and it makes this story that much more gut-wrenching.

I love how Hart can give the reader hope, rip their heart out, and give them hope again. This story is sad. Very sad. It ends on a hopeful note, but there is a price to be paid - as in real life. Actions, consequences, bad things happening to good people. Sunshine Happy Rainbows this isn't - but riveting it is.

What I also found really fantastic was how Hart connects Broken to her earlier release Dirty. Elle (the heroine from Dirty), shows up in this story but the author weaves it so seamlessly that readers of the first book will love the return appearance and new readers won't realize that they're supposed to already know this character.

I loved Dirty, and I equally loved Broken. And much like Dirty, I have no idea who to recommend this novel to. It certainly is erotic, but Hart's brand of eroticism isn't meant to titillate. It's meant to get you thinking. It's meant to make you understand the characters. Ultimately it's meant to get you emotionally invested in their fictional lives to the point where reality begins to blur. This is one talented author. I hope, pray she is finding a wide readership and Harlequin has the brains to sign her to a huge, fat contract. Simply wonderful.

Final Grade = A

Why I Go

Well that didn't take long. According to Kate Rothwell's blog some authors were upset by the presence of reviewers and bloggers at this year's RWA conference in Dallas. Instead of doing what I want to do (which is swear a lot), I'd like to explain why I like to go to RWA.

I like going to RWA because they traditionally host a nice event specifically for librarians, and it is professional. As much as I'd love to attend RT to mock the heck out of it - if I wanted to see greased up half-naked men I'd hit Venice Beach. Also, the whole idea of costume balls is so not my thing. So, so, so, not my thing. (Somewhere my sisters have dissolved into a puddle overcome by hysterical giggling)

I tend to fly under the radar at RWA because it's been my experience that some authors (not all of them) get a little uncomfortable around reviewers. So I firmly attend wearing my librarian hat - which is a bit selfish on my part since I get more love that way. I didn't pimp my blog or my reviewing at all - but some authors did recognize me and ask if I was the "Super Librarian." Some I knew because they comment semi-regularly, some I didn't because they lurk. Hey, lurk away! And "hi" to all of you out there. I even had one newbie author (her book is out next year) comment, "You sure like baseball a lot." So it was fun for me to discover that people actual stop by here.

I understand that writer's attend RWA to network and connect with other writers, see their agents/editors. It's business, and I get that. But I don't think the inclusion of a few fans/bloggers/reviewers is going to ruin that atmosphere. Unless RWA decides to host a costume ball or cover model contest - which isn't likely to happen even if Hell freezes over.

I love connecting with readers. Sybil made a comment that I "talk a lot" and I think it was just the sheer pleasure of being around so many women who are just as passionate about romance novels as I am (although they're a heck of a lot more articulate than I am!). Regardless of what some authors think of bloggers/reviewers, we really do love the genre. We're passionate about what we love, and vocal about what we don't. What tends to get lost in all of this is that we do love a lot of books. Kristie spent all week nagging me to death over the great books in my TBR I haven't read yet (too many to name, it's damn embarrassing) and Jane gushed effusively about a historical romance out next year (sorry y'all, you'll just have to wait).

Yes there is fan-oriented stuff out there for romance readers (RT being the largest), but the simple fact is that what RT offers isn't going to appeal to some readers. And that's where RWA can come in. Just because a few reviewers/bloggers are there doesn't mean we're all "frustrated writers who can't hack it." Some of us have no desire to write a romance, but we love reading them, and that's why we go. We want to meet authors. We want to meet editors. We want to talk about romance with the people who love it as much as we do. And we don't want to have to dodge cover model contestants in order to do it.

(And for the record, I had nothing but a wonderful, fabulous time at RWA and met nothing but lovely, adorable people. Write on sisters, write on. In the meantime, I'll keep reading)

Who Is That Masked Woman?

There's a reason I never post pictures of myself on the blog - but here I am with Nora. I mean, how can I not post a picture of me and Nora! Oh, and in case you're wondering - I'm younger, thinner and prettier in real life. Jane's camera must be broken.

Outlook Not So Good

If I got 4 hours of sleep last night it's a miracle. Stayed up too late attending the reception after the RITA awards, then blogged, then showered, then had a spirited debate with Jane and Kristie about the "soul mates" theme.

In a nutshell they like "soul mates" and I hate every darn thing about the idea. We agreed to disagree.

Was at the airport by 6AM and was so tired I slept most of the flight home. The Boyfriend arrived right on time to pick me up, then we hit the grocery store. I've unpacked and am now trying to stay awake while I do up all the laundry. It doesn't look good. But a girl needs clean underwear, especially when she has to go back to work tomorrow.

I shipped most of the books I got home, and spent tonight sorting through various promotional goodies I picked up. Lots of great book marks, cover flats, and my favorite - magnets. I also have to blog about reading! Expect future blog posts about Broken by Megan Hart and The Stranger by Elizabeth Lane.

Until then, I'm off to veg out and lay-about like a slug.

Houston, We Have Jackassery!

I know this will likely shock the heck out you regular blog readers, but I'm not the world's most assertive person. I'm the quintessential wallflower. Please, leave me alone and let me blend into the woodwork. It's just better that way.

Tonight I was scolded by none other than Nora Roberts' publicist. See, I saw Nora at the Librarian Event and she signed a copy of High Noon for me. So there I am with my little name tag stating Wendy Last Name from the Blah Blah Library. I just have a hard time coming out and saying, "I'm also the Super Librarian!" because frankly my blog doesn't have huge traffic and hello, I mean how important do I think I am? The answer? Not very.

Well Nora "suspected" I was "super librarian" but didn't know for sure. So here she is wondering if I'm that person or just some other random Wendy who happens to be a librarian. So when her publicist found out that I was the person behind the blog she scolded me for not saying anything.

I told her I couldn't help it. I'm a middle child and have a massive inferiority complex. Besides, Nora has more important things to do than to keep track of reader bloggers. Books to write, ways to make Roarke even sexier, and her plans for world domination. Me? I'm way, way, way low on the priority scale.

So there I am blushing and stumbling all over myself while I properly introduce myself to Nora. Bah. One of these days I'll grow a spine.

So what was tonight? Well Nora had a cocktail party before the big RITA bash and dear, lovely, sweet Jane got me invited. I was the envy of many of my coworkers. I mean it's Nora! And champagne! And shrimp cocktail! I met the darling Anne Marie Winston and gushed all over Cindy Hwang from Berkley (most of which involved me blubbering on about how much I loved A Reason To Live by Maureen McKade). I even broke out a dress for the occasion. Heck, I even put on make-up. (That large thud you hear might be both of my sister's passing out from the shock)

I skipped the RITA ceremony (I'm dog tired, plus no invite), but Kristie went and text messaged all the award winners to us from Jane's iPhone. For a complete list of winners, you can find them at Dear Author.

My flight leaves very early, it's after midnight, and I'm still awake. What awaits me upon my return home is a boyfriend who claims to be missing me (I suspect it's lies; all lies), a mountain of laundry and some grocery shopping. Oh yeah, and maybe the Tigers game. I'm seriously going through baseball withdrawal. See y'all be in California!

Ain't No Party Like A Harlequin Party

I am dead woman walking this morning. Lord help me, I'm having fun - but it will be good to be home tomorrow!

Yesterday was filled with several publisher signings. This is where publishers supply the books, authors are on hand to sign them, and the best part? They're free! The frugal little Midwesterner in me does a happy dance just thinking about it. So far I have been the most impressed with Harlequin. They had several very new books on hand to give away - Brenda Novak, Stephanie Bond, Gayle Wilson etc. They also had these great posters hanging up behind each author displaying the cover of the book they were signing. It was so easy to see. No cutting around lines to figure out exactly what line you were standing in.

Least impressed? Avon. I think they decided to clean out their warehouse. Mostly old books - stuff from a couple of years ago. A lot of the books being signed were books I saw at RWA in Reno, which was 2 years ago. For example, Kathryn Smith was signing In The Night, which was four books ago. There was an Avon highlight though - I got to meet Beverly Jenkins, who is just the most lovely woman. But I expected nothing less from a fellow Michigan gal.

In the evening we hit the party circuit. The highlight of the night had to be the Harlequin party - which was incredible. Free food, free booze (woohoo!), a dessert table I wanted to lay on while cabana boys fed me delicacies, and a DJ pumping out the tunes. I'm telling you, you haven't lived until you've seen Nora Roberts busting a move. It was a great, great party and I met many lovely people.

Tonight is another party (more on this later) and the RITA ceremony, which I will likely not be attending. Besides the fact that I'm no longer on speaking terms with my feet, I don't have an invite. Probably for the best since I have to be at the airport obnoxiously early tomorrow.

Book Orgy

So I left off with last night's massive Literacy signing. Kristie and I started standing in line an hour before the grand opening, and used that time to talk up Romantic Advances to several readers. These cute sisters from the Dallas area were particularly excited about it - "You mean I don't have to go to several web sites anymore? Just this one?" Uh, yep! That's the goal!

When they finally open the doors the first person I ran to see was Emma Holly. I was hoping she'd have some of her recently reprinted Black Lace books to sign, but alas - no. I picked up a mass market copy of All U Can Eat (I gave my trade copy to my sister) and Prince Of Ice (which I didn't have yet). I probably made a complete ass of myself, but I kept my gushing, "OMG I lurve your books!!!!" down to a minimum.

Next I met Ruth Ryan Langan, who is just about the sweetest thing ever. Ruth wrote the first romance novel I ever read - a very 1980s western called Nevada Nights. I'm going to scan the cover when I get home, because it is a trip! Copyright 1986. Well Ruth was tickled to see that book again, as the company who published it went belly-up. She hadn't seen a copy in years. I think I might have made her night. Sitting next to her were Elizabeth Lane and Jill Marie Landis who also got a kick out of seeing that old book. I also picked up Ruth's latest novel and Elizabeth's latest HH western.

There were lots of authors I talked to, and probably will forget them all - but I want to be sure to drop these names. I made a point of introducing myself to Alison Kent, because she designed my blog template and I write for Romancing The Blog. I also met Sylvia Day and Mary Castillo, who will both be doing a library program for my library this spring (bless their hearts!). I always stop by to see Kathryn Smith when I attend RWA, since I reviewed her debut novel many moons ago. I also met the very lovely Kayla Perrin, who recently published We'll Never Tell, set at my college alma mater. And a big shout out to Kate Douglas and Karen White-Owens who stopped me because they wanted to read my T-shirt. My younger sister got me this great T-shirt for my birthday, and while it's hardly professional attire, I thought it was too funny to not wear it.

I thought considering the number of people there that the volunteers running the show did an amazing job. My only complaint is the same one I have every darn year - please for the love of God give Suzanne Brockmann and Sherrilyn Kenyon there own tables in the corner somewhere. They always generate huge lines of fans and they end up clogging the main aisles. I spent most of the evening cutting through those lines saying "Excuse me, pardon me, I'm very sorry" a lot. You think after a couple of years of this someone would get a clue.

Today has been very relaxed so far with only the Samhain breakfast and a trip to the Goodie Room. Tomorrow is when the real fun begins with the Publisher Signings and Publisher Showcases. Until later....

Young Pup

Hello kiddies from the RWA conference in Big D! I'm typing this from the lovely Jane's laptop, bless her heart. She's been so great about sharing.

Wednesday at RWA is always a full rich day for me, as it kicks off with the Librarian Day event. This year marks the final year of Cathie Linz's official tenure as RWA's library liaison. She really spearheads this event, and it's always a wonderful day full of interesting speakers and choice freebies. RWA staff members will be taking over this role that Cathie has graciously served for the last several (several) years. Some quick highlights:

• Once again I'm the youngest one in the room (or maybe it just feels like it). I'm 32-frickin' years old now. You think by now I'd start seeing librarians "younger" than me at these types of functions. I guess I shouldn't complain really. Pretty soon I'll be complaining about hot flashes, my bad knees, and "those damn whipper-snappers."
  

• Susan Elizabeth Philips and Jayne Ann Krentz gave a very informative talk on how libraries can get a better response from authors/publishers/PR departments when they want an author for a library program. Some really good ideas, most of which came from The Author Event Primer: how to Plan, Execute and Enjoy Author Events by Chapple Langemack. I'll be ordering this title for my library(s) when I get back to work.

• When I grow up I want to marry Jane Porter. She gave a wonderful speech "justifying" women's fiction, chick lit and romance - a really heartfelt impassioned plea. They recorded these sessions for the first time ever, with the hopes of making them available for free "at a later date" on the RWA web site. I'll keep an eye out for them and post a link to Jane's talk when it appears. Well worth a listen. I have such a major girl crush now!

• Nora Roberts was the lunch time speaker, and she (as always) gave a lovely talk. She talked about how critics dismiss the genre as formulaic because of the "happy ending" but that it's the journey readers enjoy. Yeah, we like happy endings - but try reading a Barbara Samuel novel and a Nalini Singh novel and call them "the same." They aren't. Also the entire troupe of librarians were given a free copy of High Noon, and Nora hung around to sign our copies after lunch. I can't wait to read it!

• Sherrilyn Kenyon and Sandra Hill both talked about paranormal romances. I've never tried Hill because her books set off my "wacky and zany" radar and Kenyon? Well Kenyon's rabid fangirls scare the crap out of me. That's besides the point really - both of these ladies were funny and warm. A lovely panel.

• Malle Vallik from Harlequin talked about their digital programs -eBooks, audio books, cellular digital content, blogs, social networks etc. I pretty much knew this stuff already, but Malle was a good speaker, answered all of our questions, and seems to have a lot of good ideas. Oh, and by September all of Harlequins "front list" (current releases) will be available as eBooks.
  

I'll confess, after this I skipped out and missed the last presentation on revamping your library's romance collection. Besides, I wanted to drop off all the freebies I got (several, but sorry I'm not listing them all because I'm lazy) and get ready for the big Literacy Signing. More on that in a future blog post.

Until later.

Major Chance For Jackassery

I woke up this morning another year older. Yes, 32 years ago today my mother gave birth to me and was likely vowing that my father would never touch her again (I was two weeks late, in July, in Michigan - the humidity alone would have killed a lesser woman). Who knew that this mild-mannered nurse and her equally mild-mannered husband would become the parents of the Queen Librarian Of The Universe? To this day I still don't think they appreciate the significance, and both of my sisters still fail to bow and gape in awe at my presence. Seriously, I am so unappreciated. I'd whip my tiara out more often, but I'm just too humble and modest for such behavior.

In more important news (definitely more important than me getting old!) is that I leave for RWA in Dallas tomorrow. Kristie and I will be the first to hook up, with Jane and Sybil arriving later. My grand plan for RWA is to take Kristie everywhere with me (because everybody loves Kristie) and to not make a complete ass-hat out of my myself. I know it might seem shocking to you all, me being so incredibly suave and all, but even I am not immune to rabid fan-girl behavior. I know, I know. Here I sit in my Ivory Queen Librarian Of The Universe Tower shaking my head at J.R. Ward fangirls, Suzanne Brockmann fangirls, Jennifer Crusie fangirls, Laura Kinsale fangirls (you get the idea) and there is a very good chance I will descend into a whimpering puddle of fangirl-ish squealing at the Literacy Signing on Wednesday night.

Emma Holly will be there. Yes, the Emma Holly. I'll be lucky if I can manage any words over two syllables. Those two college degrees I have will immediately go flying right out of my head and I'll start talking like some slack-jawed yokel whose family has been swimming in the same shallow gene pool for six generations. Actually what's more likely to happen is I'll stand there looking like a dumb-ass and will probably say two words to the poor woman.

As far as blogging goes, I'm making no promises. I hope to post, but with a full schedule, and me likely to be Dead Woman Walking by Wednesday evening - well chances aren't so good. But for you all, I'll try. Hey, one way or another a full report will be forthcoming upon my return home.

Until next week...



Oh please, you so knew I was going there.

A Little Latin Love

An early birthday present arrived today from my older sister. My very own Ivan "Pudge" Rodriguez! Look how cute he is! The perfect size for me to put on my desk at work and stare longingly at. And only a few inches shorter than the real deal. Tee Hee

I shouldn't pick on Pudge. He's like 5'9". Short men need love too. Especially short men with really cute butts.

She also got me a birthday card that plays Lady Marmalade by LaBelle when you open it. A song about a hooker. I also got a magnet that reads "Alcohol doesn't cause hangovers, waking up does." Should I be worried about our relationship?

Naaah.

I Tried

I know some of you have been waiting for me to get to the Harlequin Historicals during my current Harlequin binge. Unfortunately the book I pulled out of the TBR didn't work for me and I'm calling it quits after page 138. I rarely have DNFs (Do Not Finish), but I never force myself to finish a book unless I promised a review. No promise, so no finish.

McKinnon's Bride by Sharon Harlow opens with Jessie Monroe traveling across Texas with her two small children in a ramshackle wagon and a horse close to death. Her worthless, abusive husband finally had the decency to get himself shot and killed (the mayor didn't take kindly to finding him in bed with his wife) so Jessie's traveling to the McKinnon Ranch, where her brother works, hoping for a fresh start. She arrives to discover her normally dependable brother got himself fired. But Cade McKinnon takes one look at Jessie and falls hopelessly in love. He hires her on as his housekeeper and cook.

Jessie's brother didn't really get fired. Quint and Cade staged the whole thing, with help from the local sheriff, so Quint could go undercover with a band of rustlers who nearly killed a friend. Since this is "undercover" work, Cade naturally has to keep it secret - which means he doesn't tell Jessie - which means she throws a damn hissy fit when she finds out he "lied to her."

I understand that Jessie has trust issues, and normally I sympathize with any heroine whose jackass husband beat the tar out of them, but Jessie just comes off as shrill. This "lie" isn't without probable cause. Cade has a valid point - what if the children had overheard them talking about their uncle's secret mission? Jessie's daughter would have told the whole town, plus some of the neighboring counties about it within the span of an hour. Hello, dead uncle. No, that doesn't matter - Jessie's worried about security - but dang, Cade has already given her a job, room & board, and a very healthy salary. Plus, oh yeah, the guy wants to marry her! The whole thing feels like a weak attempt to drum up conflict to me. And don't you know (OK, I skimmed ahead a bit) that Jessie then moves into town and almost gets accosted by the bad guy when she goes to him looking for another housekeeping job.

It also doesn't help that I'm not a fan of love at first sight stories. I know women were scarce out in the Old West, but Cade's thinking love and marriage before page 30. Sorry, not buying. Final Grade = DNF

Honestly, I didn't plan it this way, but this is the third book I've read this week featuring a heroine abused by her asshole husband. I mean, what are the odds that I pulled all three out of the TBR during the same week?

Anyway, A Ready-Made Family by Carrie Alexander is the fourth book in her North Country Stories series, all of which take place in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Lia Howard has packed up her three kids with little money and a car near death to get away from an emotionally abusive ex-husband. She got a restraining order against him, but he has visitation rights with the kids and is using them to get to her. Which basically means our girl has a really crappy lawyer, but what do I know? Lia is friends with Rose Robbin (see previous book in series, A Family Christmas) which is why she's traveling north. When they get there they find Rose is on her honeymoon and her surly, former Army Ranger brother, Jake Robbin, is the only one in residence at the family homestead.

Jake sees trouble. Lia's car is barely running, she has no money and her body language screams desperation. So Jake takes her in. She is a friend of Rose's, and he figures he owes his little sister.

This is a nice story, although I felt more attention could have been paid to developing the romance. Lia has a lot of problems - most of which stem from her surly 14-year-old daughter, Sam. Seriously, this kid is like the best birth control ever - which I guess is a compliment to the author. I could hear this girl's whining in my head as I was reading the book. Accurate, certainly - but it didn't make me want to strangle her any less.

Jake soon gets it into his head that marriage would solve all of their problems. He wants to settle down, preferably with a ready made family, and Lia certainly needs the help. It's not terribly romantic, and I never really felt like Jake gets past this "marriage of convenience" idea. We get declarations of love at the end, but a lot of stuff happens in that last chapter and it seems a little abrupt. However, it's well-written, fits the series well, and I zipped through it in a day. If anything, most of my quibbles would have been resolved by either 1) Lia having fewer kids or 2) a little bit of a higher word count.

I hope Alexander keeps writing this series, as I've enjoyed all the books. The Robbins clan in particular is fascinating, with oodles of emotional baggage, and one wonders if the jail-bird brother, Gary, is going to get paroled for the next book. And neither here nor there, but Jake is a former Army Ranger with muscles and several tattoos. The guy Harlequin threw on the cover looks like a CPA. Final Grade = B-

Still With The Harlequins

I'm a total sucker for first person narration, which is why I had Meeting At Midnight by Eileen Wilks gathering dust in the TBR. It's part of Silhouette Desire's "Man Talk" series - books told entirely in the hero's point of view. Unfortunately this one didn't work for me as well as it should have.

Ben McClain is in a serious auto accident that leaves him near death. Crawling through the snow he sees an angel, then the next thing he knows he's lying in the hospital ER. The angel in question turns out to be Seely Jones, an out of work waitress, hippie child and free spirit. She also used to be a paramedic, and Ben hires her as his personal nurse while he's recuperating at home.

So what doesn't work here? Well, Meeting At Midnight is part of a series featuring the McClain family, and while Wilks does a wonderful job keeping readers up to speed I found the inclusion of these secondary characters intrusive. Hey, this is only a 180 page book - I want the hero and heroine. I don't really care about the hero's brother, Duncan, his wife, Gwen, or his pregnant little sister, Annie. Also, there's back story that involves Gwen. Ben knocked her up, she married his brother - which frankly skeeves me out. So Ben has naturally been pining for Gwen and is a little resentful of Duncan's relationship with little Zach. Also, there's some woo-woo in this story - which really annoyed me since I was reading an SD novel. Hello?! Category is the last bastion of contemporary romance. It's the one place where I should be able to find a nice, contemporary story without getting blind-sided by paranormal crap or serial killers. Too be fair, this was published in 2004 (well before my burn out of all things paranormal) - but the back cover copy from Harlequin doesn't exactly scream "woo-woo."

This makes it sound like I didn't enjoy the story. I did - but only when the author dumped the other stuff and concentrated on why I picked this book up in the first place - the hero and heroine. I also liked the first person narrative quite a bit, although during a love scene the hero tells the heroine that she "feels like rose petals." I'm sorry, no guy (not even a gay one) on the planet would ever say that. Final Grade = C

Now this is more like it. The Wrong Man For Her by Kathryn Shay is a sequel to an earlier Harlequin SuperRomance, Tell Me No Lies, but this one stands alone very well. This one follows my Shay pattern - I really love her heroines. But because of this, when her heroes do something stupid (and they usually do) that hurts the heroine that I like so much - well I spend the whole novel wanting to kick him in an uncomfortable area.

Nick Logan has been lugging around some serious baggage. His father was sent to prison for embezzling from his bank job, then his mother literally kicked him out of the house at 16 because she couldn't handle him. Bad stuff happened to Nick on the streets, but he eventually turned himself around and is now a teen counselor. He moves back to Rockford, New York to take a job at the Rockford Crime Victims' Center under his old mentor - only to discover his mentor isn't the boss anymore. Dr. Madelyn Walsh is.

Maddie and Nick used to work together and had a relationship. She has baggage too (she was raped), but it's Nick who broke it off when things got too "heavy" between them. The fact that he dumped her after a pregnancy scare doesn't exactly endear him to me. Maddie's a smart girl though and knows that while she loved (OK, loves) Nick, trying to have a healthy relationship with him is a train to Nowhere-ville. He is unwilling to deal with his past. Maddie (rightly so) knows that until Nick deals with that past he'll be incapable of having any sort of normal, healthy, romantic relationship. So they spend a lot of time trying to keep it professional and naturally fail miserably.

Weaved into the story is Nick and Maddie's work with a group of troubled teens, all of whom have been victimized in one form or another. There were some moments that felt a little preachy to me, but generally speaking it's easy to see that Shay is quite passionate about Victim's Rights. I also really liked the fact that Maddie called Nick on most of his BS. Nick hurt her, a lot, and she's not about to let him steamroll her. This is no shrinking violet that runs to the bathroom to "cry" when her ex says something hurtful to her. She dishes it right back at him.

Not my favorite Shay, but a good, strong emotional read. Final Grade = B

Viva La Bodice Ripper!

Happy July 4th to all of you reading this from the United States. For those of you living elsewhere in the world, most Americans celebrate July 4th in honor of our country's independence from England. Me? I think of it as the day a bunch of old white guys decided to not pay their taxes anymore. Being addicted to tea though (most Americans are slaves to coffee), I can understand the colonists being a wee bit upset over a tea tax. Except I wouldn't have dumped it in Boston Harbor, more likely carting it away for myself.

In honor of this day, I thought it might be fun for the romance readers to celebrate our bodice ripping past. A coworker of mine was recently cleaning out "her Nana's old bookmarks" and came across this gem! Click images to make larger



A couple of things of note:

• OMG - an Avon paperback for $2.95! Those were the days!

• "Through the fiery tumult of the Cuban Revolution to the lush prison of a sultan's harem, across burning desert sands and Europe's most provocative boudoirs..." Geesh, how purple can you get?

• "Until, in a mounting tide of restless longing, the sweet fires of their exalted love draw them closer, burning brighter, across time, across worlds...." I take it back. Now this is purple.

I just thought it was a total trip, and worthy of some giggles. I know most romance readers (and writers) hate the term "bodice ripper," and with good reason. Most people apply it to the wrong sort of books. Me? I'll use the dreaded "BR" word because frankly it applies to books like this one. Nothing wrong with that. It's part of the evolution of romance novels and should be embraced. But feel free to throw something at an idiot who applies it to anything being published today. Frankly nobody ripped the bodices like Rosemary Rogers and hopefully nobody will ever try. Enjoy the blast from the past!

They Need To Lock Me Up And Throw Away The Key

I just found out that a huge (I'm talking huge) used bookstore near me is closing. Naturally I'm in mourning, but it's even more depressing as this is the used bookstore where I used to kill a lot of lunch breaks. It's just down the road from The Old Job, and when I was having a rough day (which was admittedly quite often), I'd go to the store, and just browse. Look at the rows upon rows of historical romance (completely disorganized I might add) and try to forget about the crazy person (people) who would argue with me over the library's "irrational" policies. You know, our restriction on Internet time and paying your overdue fines. We're evil that way. Even better, there's a Taco Bell near by - so I'd get my junk-food raccoon meat craving satisfied, then spend time at the bookstore. The only thing that would have been more perfect is if there was a place for me to get a decent piece of cheesecake next door.

It's also the bookstore where I went on my last serious Harlequin buying bender.

And they're closing. The culprit? Rising rent. They apparently make a killing with their Internet sales, and they would carry amazing collectibles there (signed John Steinbecks people). Fun to drool over, but out of my price range. Still, rising rent is rising rent - and it's really ridiculous here in Southern California.

The irony here is that I find out they're closing the morning after I tell The Boyfriend, "I really need to lay off the book buying for a long while." I find out they're going out of business right before I hit RWA in Dallas, where I'm sure to walk away with more than just a few books. Damn. I just can't do it.

But maybe I can go and "look." Just see what's left. And really put myself on a strict budget. Crap, the older I get the more like Daffy Duck I become. Just substitute "gold" or "rich" for "books" and that's pretty much me.

The Binge Begins

I've been seriously hankering for a Harlequin reading binge, and now that I'm free from the oppressive yoke of review books I can indulge my every whim.

A Year And A Day by Inglath Cooper is an emotional Harlequin SuperRomance about a woman desperate to escape an abusive marriage. Audrey Colby's husband is a Grade A asshole - not only does he beat the crap out of her, he's also cheating on her. To make matters worse, some of their high society friends know exactly what Audrey is enduring and have done nothing to intervene. After years of planning, and scrapping together money, she finally has a plan. She's going to leave the country with her young son, Sammy, and start a new life. Then Nicholas Wakefield shows up and almost ruins everything.

Nicholas is a former prosecutor turned corporate lawyer. He works for the firm that represents Audrey's asshole husband. When he first meets Audrey it's like a ton of bricks falling on him. He's drawn to this woman, but something doesn't quite add up. She's hiding something, and with his superhero complex he's determined to help her whether she wants it or not.

This story isn't much of a romance, but it's still a very good emotional read. Audrey's abusive marriage rings true (depressingly so), and I was immediately swept up in her plans to escape. Audrey has bigger problems than falling in love, and given what she's dealing with, there isn't a lot of time for romance. Also, Nicholas' feelings for her feel very "love at first sight" with some "rescue fantasies" tossed into the mix. That said, it works because Cooper draws her characters as individuals so well. I also loved, loved, loved the way she handled the ending. I would have been extremely cheesed off if Audrey had left her husband and jumped right into another marriage (blessedly she doesn't). It's a hopeful ending. Audrey and Nicholas both have baggage, and it's not until they sort that out on their own that they decide - what the heck? Let's try this. So no wedding, no heroine squirting out babies. YeeHaw! The only quibble - the asshole husband isn't castrated in the end. There's a bit of justice (again, depressingly real-to-life) but readers looking for his guts to be ripped out will be disappointed. Final Grade = B

Sigh, I have no idea why I had this Silhouette Romance in my TBR since it features a plot device that rarely works for me (heroine wants to run the family business, but Daddy hires hero instead). I probably got suckered in by the single dad story line. One Man And A Baby by Susan Meier is part of a series, and tells the story of reformed bad boy, Rick Capriotti. An on-again-off-again relationship with a senator's daughter results in her getting pregnant and abandoning the baby on his doorstep. What is it with romance heroes and their inability to figure out condoms? Anyway, he needs to keep the baby a secret until after the local election, as his father is running for sheriff and sonny boy knocking up a senator's daughter would be some huge scandal (this whole thing didn't really work for me, although Meier pulls out all the stops trying to sell it). He's also afraid when the senator finds out he has a grandchild that he'll fight for custody. So Rick decides to get a respectable job overseeing a horse ranch. Minor problem though. The rancher's daughter, Ashley Meljac, is hell-bent on running the show herself and Rick ends up getting stuck showing her the ropes.

The problem with this book is that the characters make bad first impressions. Rick and Ashley have a history. He was the town bad boy, she was the uptight trust fund baby who refused to help him cheat in his high school English class. I know, what an unreasonable bitch! They squabble. They bicker. My eyes bleed. Then there's a miraculous turn around, they both start behaving a bit more like adults, but the romance sort of "happens" without much explanation. Also I'll never understand romance heroes and heroines hell-bent on returning to their small hometowns when everyone in that town is a petty gossip who makes their lives miserable. It's readable, but it wasn't enough to get me curious about the other books in "The Cupid Campaign" series so Final Grade = C.