Retro Review: The Sheriff

This review of The Sheriff by Nan Ryan was originally published at The Romance Reader in 2006. Back then I rated it 1-Heart (F Grade) with an R-rated sensuality rating.

+++++

Nan Ryan’s latest book reminds me a lot of the western romances I read and enjoyed as a teenage girl. However, I have since grown up, and simply telling me a story doesn’t cut it anymore. 

Kate VanNam (not Kate Quinn as the back cover copy suggests), has just gotten word that a great-aunt she didn’t know has died and named her as sole beneficiary in her will. When the elderly uncle who raised her dies, Kate takes what meager savings he had left and boards a ship for Fortune, California. Her auntie not only left her a gold mine, but also a majestic Victorian mansion. 

However when she arrives, Kate discovers that her gold mine is reportedly worthless and the Victorian is uninhabitable. No matter, she is sure with a little hard work that she’ll find gold and make her fortune! Too bad the insufferable town sheriff keeps getting in her way. 

Travis McCloud (not Travis McLoud as the back cover copy suggests), sees trouble the minute he sees Kate. The men outnumber the women in Fortune 50 to 1. Worse still, Kate is a lady. The kind of lady that the rough-hewn miners will kill each other over just for a wink and a smile. No doubt about it, he’s going to have to protect her for her own good. 

Readers looking for a romance are going to find something on par to the novels published back in 1985. Kate and Travis do not spend any time together, and when they do, they bicker. Their “courtship” consists of arguing, her seeing him with no shirt on, arguing, him spying her skinny-dipping in a mountain lake and more arguing. Then they end up in bed together and all of the sudden it’s true love. They can’t live without each other! 

This lack of courtship and romance might be able to be overlooked if there were actual character development to distract the reader. Travis remains an enigma, spending the bulk of the story either bedding his mistress or being annoyed that he’s attracted to Kate. When the author does decide to reveal a nugget from his past, she dashes it off in a paragraph. Not a paragraph where Travis is talking to Kate, a mere descriptive paragraph where the author is telling instead of showing. In fact, the entire book is riddled with this sort of lazy writing. Instead of unfolding the romance and story before the reader’s eyes, the author just tells it. 

Kate has one nice moment in the story where she saves a Chinese man from being beaten by ruffians, but other than that, this girl was obviously dropped on her head a few times as an infant. When she discovers the Victorian has no windows or doors, she decides to make the front parlor her living space. She tidies up that room and lives in it. It never occurs to her that she might want to replace the doors or windows. It never occurs to her that she might want to be able to lock up now that she’s living in a male-dominated town full of desperate, uncouth, and horny miners. No, it’s up to Travis to board up her windows, and replace her doors (coincidentally this is when she sees him with no shirt on). He even has to order her to keep the doors locked at all times. Frankly, people this stupid deserve whatever happens to them – but Travis has some perverse desire to protect Kate and the reader is forced to suffer along. 

There is nothing to motivate the reader to care. Kate is a dingbat with a blind optimism that smacks of stupidity. Travis wouldn’t be bad if the author spent time actually exploring his previous life in Virginia instead of relaying it. Even the villains are bland, and naturally, Kate doesn’t realize she’s in danger because the villain is so darn charming and nice. Even the climactic finish lacks an actual climax, and the whole thing is over in four sentences. There are several spicy love scenes, but given that the reader doesn’t know, care much, and isn't privy to any sort of courtship, it’s hard to care about them, let alone read them without skimming. Lazy characterization with an equally lazy “telling” writing style make The Sheriff a tedious read. Pass it on by.

+++++

Wendy Looks Back: Books like this are the reason that I have a running theory about long lost and/or inherited mines in historical western romances.  My theory?  If the plot involves one the book is likely to be terrible.  Seriously. I've read a disproportionate number of bad westerns featuring defunct mines.

Also, I used to write pretty good reviews.  I think if I slogged through this book today and then tried to write a review it would be a lot of incoherent, unintelligible muttering.

Retro Review: Hot Pink

This review of Hot Pink by Susan Johnson was originally posted at The Romance Reader in 2003. Back then I rated this 1-Heart (F Grade) with an MPAA sensuality rating of NC-17.

+++++

I started Hot Pink on a Sunday afternoon and read about 50 pages. For the next 4 days I picked it up long enough to stuff it in my purse. I couldn’t read anymore. I thought that maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. Or as my boyfriend so eloquently put it, “cease to exist.” But damn if I wasn’t assigned to review it – which meant my scruples made me finish it.

Chloe Chisolm has met her dream man in an elevator. He’s tall, dark, handsome and great in bed. In fact it’s the best sex Chloe has ever had, and if we’re to believe the narrative, Chloe has had more sexual partners than a horny seaman on leave. There’s just one little catch – he’s engaged to a beautiful, psycho ice princess.

Rocco Vinelli (no I didn’t make that up) isn’t really engaged to psycho Amy. He’s starting a business with his siblings, and Amy’s Daddy is an investor. Not wanting to ruin the deal and piss off Daddy – Rocco has been humoring the girl. However, now he’s met Chloe and he’s over the moon! What to do?

The biggest stumbling block with Hot Pink is the completely unlikable characters. I’ve never bought into the theory that the reader must “relate” to the characters to enjoy a story – but liking them, or finding them marginally interesting doesn’t hurt. Every character in this book is shallow and vacuous. If they aren’t having sex or thinking about it – they’re acting trendy and hip.

In a 295-page book, Chloe and Rocco somehow manage to not have one meaningful conversation. They are either boinking or doing the “he said, she said” routine. Amy says she and Rocco are engaged; Chloe doesn’t know what to believe, but she keeps sleeping with Rocco anyway. Ah yes, it must be true love! So when Rocco and Chloe both internally muse that what they feel for each other is “different” you can imagine my surprise.

The writing here, while decent, is lazy. In fact, I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that the author known for her historicals laden with footnotes wrote Hot Pink. Characters aren’t created – they are compared. For instance, the only things we are told about Rocco are that he’s hot, incredible in bed and looks like Goran Visnjic. Another hottie that Chloe bangs is a young bartender who looks like Colin Farrell. Chloe gets a little more attention, but she’s given the “hip” short shift as well. She has pink hair, wears Jimmy Choos, and is a web designer. My benchmark for a good book is when I begin to believe the characters are real. These characters could never exist out of a CGI program or the Hollywood spin factory.

The whole thing is just tedious, right down to the conflict – which is solely Amy. This is a woman who is so one-dimensional that I half expected her to start cackling like a Disney villain. She’s a stalker, plain and simple. The fact that Rocco won’t tell her to take a long walk off a short pier only illustrates how unhero-like he is. I like Alphas and I like Betas, but a man who won’t stand up for himself is no hero.

The whole thing just makes my head hurt. So much so that I had to take a break from reading to vacuum my spare bedroom – yes you read that right, I resorted to housework! If you go for shallow characters and a story laden with “hip” name dropping, go right ahead. Feel free. Run, run, run to the nearest bookstore. I couldn’t take it. Unlikable, uncaring, unfeeling, and totally lacking in substance I couldn’t wait to be done with it. Or in less eloquent terms, I guess you could say Hot Pink left me cold.

+++++

Wendy Looks Back: I had to look up Goran Visnjic - that's apparently how memorable I found that guy.

#TBRChallenge 2019: Wendy Goes On A Spice Briefs Bender

Work has been busy to start the new year which has resulted in lagging reading mojo.  How lagging?  Let's just say that sustaining my attention span for a category length romance for this month's challenge was too much for me.  No, I needed to go really short - and thanks to Harlequin for mucking up their ebook delivery system, I discovered a small pile of Spice Briefs languishing in my TBR.  This line no longer exists, in part because Harlequin's pricing on the shorts was terrible at the time (over $2 for stories that clocked in on the high end of 50 pages) and also because the line never was clearly defined.  In other words: sometimes you got erotica and sometimes you got erotic romance.  That's fine by me since I read both, but Harlequin largely caters to romance readers so...yeah.  No surprise Spice Briefs folded even though I did my best to single-handedly keep it going.  So it was on a lazy Saturday afternoon that I found myself inhaling four of them back-to-back-to-back-to-back and feeling more than slightly drunk from the fallout.

The Revolutionary Mistress by Leia Rice is all sorts of problematic, is definitely erotica, and I enjoyed every minute of it (don't judge).  With the French Revolution bubbling to full boil, Mariette is a tavern barmaid who has had to resort to prostituting herself to earn any sort of living. Then she meets Rene, and our girl falls hard and fast.  But danger lurks in the form a Sebastian, a regular customer who has her ensnared in his revolutionary activities.

For such a short story (around 50 pages), the author does an excellent job with developing her setting with all the tension you would expect for a story set during the French Revolution.  It ends happily in the respect that the heroine is safe and she's going to be on the receiving end of what will surely be months, if not years, of incredible sex - so while a stretch to consider this a romance, it's definitely what I would consider female-centered erotica.  My only real quibble is that Mariette is what I call a reactionary heroine.  Stuff happens, she reacts.  She never really takes matters into her own hands and for most of this story she's at the whims of men.  Could I understand that given the world she was living in?  Yes. But I can't help thinking what this story could have been had Mariette been a more wily sort of character.

Final Grade = B-

The Lady's Bargain by Leslie Dicken was less successful for me, largely because the heroine does something unbelievably stupid and because the hero is a cad.  Lady Christine Claybourne needs to stay unmarried until her next birthday, only one month away, in order to inherit the only home she's ever known. So when her uncle arranges her betrothal, she runs away and poses as a shy governess.  She's discovered by William Preston, Lord Kingston, her betrothed's younger brother.  Turns out she inadvertently accepted a governess post in her future father-in-law's home. She ran away from a guy she doesn't want to marry only to end up at his parents' house. Seriously.

Here's the thing, I get the girl doesn't want to marry - but she basically prostitutes herself to the "hero" to keep her secret and the brother she is engaged to?  Yes, he wants her dowry (because of course he does), but it's not like the guy is a horrible monster.  So you've got William cuckolding his brother, the heroine determined to go through with the marriage after one night of passion with William because she's in lurve and realizes either way she's destined to be alone forever so what does it all matter anyway, and the author tries to spin it all out as a great love match romance.  Nah, not buying.  On the bright side? The sex scenes are very well written.

Final Grade = D+

Tuscan Seduction by Amber Carlsbad was very well written but ultimately not very satisfying because of it's brevity.  Gina has come to the realization that she is wasting her youth, so she breaks up with her steady, older (read: boring) beau, quits her job that she won't miss, and takes off to Italy.  She meets Carlo on the train, sparks fly, and we get a hot sex with a hot stranger story.

This is very, very brief.  It's basically an interlude between two characters that morphs into them deciding to spend more time together once the train ride concludes.  It works as erotica, but not really as a separate stand-alone story.  Honestly?  This would have been right at home in a Cleis Press anthology, and was even written like it.  Not bad, not great, just sort of there.

Final Grade = C

I had originally planned to just read three shorts for this month's Challenge, but I was well and truly drunk at this point and just didn't know when to quit.  So that's how I came to read The Devilish Duke by Alice Gaines, which led me to sobering up quickly.

Miss Rosalind Weaver's father is a degenerate gambler who wants to sell his daughter into marriage to a man she cannot abide. So her answer is to arrive on the Duke of Fallon's doorstep (he had also asked for her hand, but was outbid by the odious guy) and propose they marry. She'll give him the heir he desperately wants (Fallon's got two dead wives under his belt...) and she doesn't have to marry the odious lecher.  He agrees, but wants to sample the goods first.

The author is shooting for romance here, but instead readers are regaled with Sex and Crazy.  The "Crazy" comes in the form Dead Wife #2's Evil Sister who the hero had a menage a trois with - and yes, of course the sisters were incestuous.  There's also the backhanded comment the hero makes about Dead Wife #1 being frigid, dying in childbirth, and the baby (a girl) dying a few days later.  He makes a snide comment about being happy "at the time" that the baby died so he could start over.  What. A. Prince.

Not.

And after that I'm supposed to believe he's a great guy and he's got this great love match, finally, with Rosalind and OF COURSE we get a childbirth epilogue where OF COURSE Rosalind squirts out a baby boy and WENDY MAD! WENDY SMASH!

Look, were girls devalued during historical times?  Heck, we're devalued now!  Doesn't mean I want to read about it and it doesn't mean I want the author to give the hero a free pass over it.

Final Grade = F

Not a good way to end my gorging at the Spice Briefs trough, but it did succeed in getting me to sober up.  Plus reading so many shorts in a row helped kick start the mojo.  Not a rousing success, but I'll take it.

Review: Transcendence

Folks, this is going to be one of my more challenging reviews to date.  Why?  Because Transcendence by Shay Savage took parts of Romancelandia by storm a few years ago, including captivating my good buddy, and RWA roomie, KristieJ.  Kristie told me I had to read it.  So I bought this when it was 99 cents and it sat on my Kindle until finally Kristie said I had to promise to read it before RWA in July.  So, I did.  My experience with this book can be wrapped up in one simple, inelegant, response:

WT-Actual-F did I just read?!?!

Seriously.  I want to drown myself in a vat of brain bleach.

The story opens with some half-baked science-y explanation on why our hero can't talk or understand language. Blah, blah, blah SCIENCE!  Once past the prologue we meet our caveman (seriously) hero, Ehd, trying to stay alive after the death of his tribe (wiped out by a fire).  He digs a pit, manages to catch an antelope (or whatever) and in his state of hunger accidentally leaves his spear behind.  When he goes back he notices his pit has captured something else.  A young woman wearing strange clothing and making a lot of weird mouth noises.

The young women, Beh, is from "the future."  But Ehd doesn't know that because he can't communicate or understand what she's saying and damn she makes all these weird mouth noises that hurt his head.  She basically cries a lot and is generally the most annoying thing on the planet Earth, which takes some doing since the reader isn't given her point of view.  That's right kids!  This story is told in first person, present tense, from the hero's point of view.  Yes, the hero who can't talk or understand language.  How he can tell a story to the reader then defies logic - but whatever.  Ours is not to reason why.  Ehd takes one look at our idiot heroine, immediately starts thinking of her as his "mate" and spends the rest of the novel desperately wanting to get her pregnant.

Yes, it's all just as insulting as I'm making it sound.  Don't believe me?  Let's look at the notes I highlighted while reading last night:

At 9%:

However, she seems so frightened of me now, I don’t think she would readily position herself on her hands and knees so I can fill her.  Still, I am much stronger, and if I want inside of her, I can just hold her while I enter her body.  Joining with her in such a way would still feel very good, I imagine, but I don’t like it when she yells and cries, and I think she would probably do that if I have to hold her down to mate with her. These thoughts are making my penis lengthen and become stiff.  I consider stroking myself, but I am afraid it will wake her.  I sigh as I look down on her sleeping face and wonder how long it will be before I can properly mate with her.  I touch her cheek softly again, and I know when I decide to lie with her, I want her to enjoy it.  So how do I get that to happen? Finally, after thinking about it a long time, I decide I need to make her like me.

Wendy's Notes: WT-Actual-F am I reading?!  And wait, how does a caveman hero who cannot understand language know the word "penis?"

At 16%:

As much as I need water and food and shelter, I need to be inside of her—I need to give her a baby.

Wendy's Notes: Sure, why not? Let's roll feminism back 100 years.

At 22%:

I hope if I am patient, she will let me put a baby inside of her soon.

Wendy's Notes: Kill. Me. Now.

At 36%:

We have to mate now before it’s too late. I have to put a baby in her.

Wendy's Notes: Seriously dude. WE GET IT ALREADY!

At 41%:

I can feel the heat in my groin and the hardness of my flesh under my furs, and I know my body is straining to put a baby inside of her as soon as possible.  Before long, the weather will be cold, and Beh will have to have a baby in her soon so it will be big enough to survive the next winter.

Wendy's Notes: Barf and kill me.

At 43%:

I mean—if she touched me there, then surely she’ll let me put a baby in her now, right?

Wendy's Notes: You know, sometimes I'm a little slow but I think I'm beginning to notice a pattern here.../end sarcasm.

At 69%:

My mate likes everything to be clean and dry, and putting my penis in her while she is bleeding is clearly not an option.

Wendy's Notes: What sweet hell is this?! 

At 71%:

We eat; I put my penis inside of her for a while, and then I fall back to sleep.

Wendy's Notes: Proof that some 21st century men haven't evolved all that much from their cavemen ancestors.  Booya!  

And really, that's just the tip of the iceberg.  You've got a time traveling heroine whose point of view you don't get, who cries All. The. Time and doesn't do a damn thing THE ENTIRE STORY to figure out how she got there, how to get back to her own time etc.  Color me wacky, but I think I'd make that my priority over giving it up to a caveman who can't talk.  But the piece de resistance?  When the heroine gets her period the caveman hero fashions up some maxi-pads for her using antelope hide and dried grass.  

People, I can't even. 

Harlequin kills SuperRomance for, presumably, low sales  and THIS!  This is the sort of story that earns glowing 5-star reviews out the ying-yang.  A heroine (yes, she's an idiot - but still...) reduced to broodmare, a story concept that defies logic (How does he know the word penis? How can this story be told from his point of view when HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND LANGUAGE?!), and a time travel element/explanation that makes even less sense than your typical time travel romance - which, long time romance readers will attest to, takes some serious doing.

I'm done.  I'm out.  I want wine.  Send wine.  Lots and lots of wine.

Final Grade = F 

Retro Review: Million Dollar Stud (Yes, Really.)

This review of Million Dollar Stud by Meg Lacey was first posted at The Romance Reader in 2002.  Back then I rated it 1-Heart (F Grade) with an MPAA sensuality content rating of PG-13.

+++++

As a reader nothing bothers me more than when my intelligence is being insulted. Honestly Harlequin, Million Dollar Stud?! The only logical explanation I have for this moronic title is that it was conceived during the office happy hour. However, Harlequin does have this knack for putting dopey titles on good books, so despite cringing every time I had to haul this book out in public, I kept an open mind when reading the story. Unfortunately, it’s equally as insulting.

Richard Darcy Kristof is a bored gazillionaire. Desperate for an adventure, he makes a wager with his lawyer cousin - Darcy is going to live one month, in the middle of nowhere, without any of his gazillionaire resources. Going under the assumed name of Rick Darcy, he is soon working as temporary manager of Braybourne Farms in tiny Cecil, Kentucky.

Sylvia “Silver” Braybourne is a daddy’s little girl who wants to turn the family farm around. All she’s ever wanted to do is run the farm, but Daddy just can’t get past the fact that she’s a girl. Not only does he keep trying to marry her off, but he also doesn’t take her seriously when she tries to show him that the troubled horse he won in a poker game is a sure winner. Adding insult to injury he hires Rick Darcy for the job she should rightfully have.

Where does one begin? Darcy is conceited, spoiled and an egomaniac. Women are mere playthings, and he freely admits within the first chapter that they tend to bore him to tears. Well, that is, they don’t bore him enough to make him stop wanting to seduce them - and the minute he meets Silver he’s working overtime to get into her pants.

Silver falls into the feisty heroine category. The only thing that was missing to complete the picture was her whining “But Daddy…” and stamping her feet. Not only does the reader have the read the same old “I can run the family business better than any man” claptrap, but Silver is completely spineless. So Daddy won’t let her run the farm - why doesn’t she pack her bags, and go to work for someone who does take her seriously? Instead she continues to train the troubled horse, succumb to Darcy’s busy hands, and allow Daddy to treat her like a brainless twit.

The secondary characters are all out central casting. There’s the clueless yet doting father, the steel magnolia mother, the brash local woman who runs a burger joint, and the wise, old farm hand (nicknamed Tater of all things). Add to this the I-hate-you-I-want-you relationship between Darcy and Silver and I think I actually felt my brain begin to melt.

There is a very minor bright spot towards the end of the story, which features Silver telling Darcy off big time. Unfortunately this is a romance, and there has to be a happily-ever-after. Silly me, I held out hope that she would keep on walking - I know nothing would have made me happier.

Stories with titles like Million Dollar Stud do little to improve the image of category romance. My advice is to check out some of the more favorable category reviews featured at TRR. Anything has to be better than this.

Retro Review: Windwalker

This review for Windwalker by Natasha Mostert was first posted at The Romance Reader in 2005.  I gave it 1-Heart (F grade) and a MPAA G-rating for sensuality content.

+++++

No reviewer associated with TRR ever gives a one-heart review lightly. We agonize over them. Is the book really that bad that it deserves such a harsh review? Is there nothing redeemable? In the case of Windwalker there is something redeemable – this author can write. Mostert also has a real sense of place, and a portion of the story takes place in Africa - an unusual setting by romance standards. Unfortunately Windwalker is also boring, almost completely lacking in dialogue, cluttered with Gothic elements that lack suspense, and worst of all – it breaks the cardinal rule of romance novels. Since this book is published by Tor’s paranormal romance line, it’s a rude little surprise indeed.

Justine Callaway is a photojournalist running from her past. She feels guilty over her role in her beloved brother’s death, has a horrible relationship with her mother, and has even tried to commit suicide. Her solution to her problems is to run away to a mansion in the English countryside, where she takes on the job of caretaker. However once she arrives spooky things begin to happen.

A ghostly wolf-like image begins appearing in her photographs of the house. She ticks off one of the local teenage punks. She garners the attention of the town’s creepy stalker who calls himself The Watcher. Plus, she begins to obsess over the family who previously owned the house – the Buchanans.

Adam Buchanan is living a life of exile in Africa. Nine years earlier he killed his spoiled brother in an altercation. So he runs away from home. While he’s cut himself off from the outside world, Adam does believe in the concept of soul mates, and has been writing letters to a mysterious woman for years. Turns out that mysterious woman is Justine and she’s now living in his abandoned family home.

Now this all sounds interesting right? There’s a great Gothic tone, and Mostert really has a way of painting a setting with words. Unfortunately the whole thing is really bloody boring! There is barely any dialogue to speak of. Chapters go by without any of the characters speaking to anyone. I kept waiting for something to happen, and when it finally does it is extremely anti-climatic.

Several instances that could have been quite suspenseful come off as tedious. The idea of Justine having a stalker could have been exciting – but instead the reader knows immediately the identity of the man. There’s absolutely no mystery to it. There’s also the presence of a villain in Africa, but given that he’s motivated by greed and underworld ties, it’s not a big leap to know exactly where his story arc will go.

The romance here is non-existent. Adam and Justine don’t even meet until the last 100 pages of the book, and when they do they simply declare that they’re “soul mates” and are so in love. Color me skeptical. Given Justine’s questionable mental condition (the girl needs a therapist not a romance) and Adam’s homicidal tendencies, it’s a bit of a leap to buy into a grand cosmic love affair.

However it’s the ending that really sinks the book. Readers tend to clamor for different ideas in their romantic fiction, but something tells me they won’t be prepared for an ending like this one. Mostert breaks the cardinal rule of romance. It's the stuff of women’s fiction, fantasy, and literary circles – not romance.

Ultimately that is what sinks Windwalker into one heart territory. Sure the writing is crisp and I loved Mostert’s descriptive settings. But with virtually no dialogue, a plot that packs no suspenseful punch, a completely unsatisfactory romance, and an ending that has no business being in a novel marketed as romance – Windwalker more than earned this one-heart review.

+++++

Original Cover

A Rather Lengthy Note: Given the recent brouhahas about books marketed as romances that feature not-happy endings, I thought it would be fun to revisit this review.  2005 was the height of the paranormal boom and Tor launched a "paranormal romance" line - which is the imprint this book was released under.  It was a disservice to both the author and the reader because when you pick up something published under a "paranormal romance" imprint you kinda, sorta expect to get a romance novel.

Obviously from my review, I had numerous issues with the book - but the final nail in the coffin was that ending.  If you're curious - Spoiler = The details are fuzzy now but I'm positive the hero dies in the end.  I *think* the heroine lives - but damn if I can remember now.  The brain bleach I drank did a halfway decent job of scrubbing my memory. /end Spoiler.

It was also a book in a long parade of paranormal romances I read during those years that made me loathe the "soul mate" theme.  I'm sorry folks, it has and always will smack of a storytelling shortcut to me.

So this is just to say that yep - this kind of nonsense happened 10+ years ago too.  Although I think more so today since we have so many self-published authors clamoring for name recognition and publishers spit-balling outrageous ideas to hit upon The Next Big Thing.  And, you know, generally chasing after the fact that romance readers drop a serious amount of money on our book budgets.

Stay strong Romancelandia.  Stay strong.

Flashes Of Me

I first heard of Cynthia Sax last year when I got some promo material for her Seen trilogy.  I was intrigued by the voyeurism premise, but at the time I must have had too many review books on my plate (or something) and I never tried them.  So when I had the opportunity to get an ARC of Flashes Of Me, I decided to give it a whirl.  What with BDSM currently running amok in erotic romance, I'm always happy to try something "different" - and right now?  An exhibitionist heroine and a hero with voyeuristic tendencies sounded rather refreshing.  Unfortunately none of it worked for me.  I did read it in one sitting, but that's honestly the nicest thing I can say about my reading experience.

Katalina is at loose ends, so decides to leave New York for Los Angeles and takes an internship at Blaine Technologies.  What she's not telling anybody is that she's the daughter of Blaine's biggest rival - a rival that Blaine is in the process of buying out.  Just wanting to keep her head down and start over, she uses her mother's maiden name to land the job.  But before she even sets foot in the office building she has a sexy encounter with Blaine's head of cyber-security, Henley.  One thing leads to another, and shenanigans are afoot.

The author is shooting for a Beauty and the Beast vibe with this story, which is normally a theme I cannot get enough of.  Unfortunately this is an instance where I found the whole premise a hot mess.  At first I had high hopes for Kat.  She's beautiful, blond and has big boobs - so naturally everyone assumes she's a brain-dead ninny.  For her part Kat plays that role beautifully, 1) because it's what people expect and 2) sometimes it's better to have people underestimate you.  In her words:

"Some people think big men are dumb.  Some people also think blond women are stupid and no one should wear pink to a funeral.  I learned long ago to ignore some people."

Here's the problem, I don't think Kat is playing.  I really do think she's a brain-dead ninny.  She stumbles around the office like a moron, says inane clap-trap like "My father always says....." and never rises to any occasion where you think she just might possibly have two brain cells to rub together.  In other words, the author wants me to think the "dumb blond" thing is an act and.....

I don't.  She really is a dumb blond.

The story isn't helped at all by the writing, which was straight out of bad late-night cable TV soft core porn.  After a bumpy beginning that showed some promise, the whole affair spirals down the rabbit hole to just plain terrible.  I get it, Henley is a big dude.  As in, football linebacker big.  The kind of guy who probably has to have his clothes custom made he's so big.  But if I read the word "behemoth" once I think I read it a dozen times.  Then there was the dialogue, which was just god-awful.  Henley keeps calling Kat "kitten" for cripes sake.  But the final straw?  What really pushed me over the edge?  The Rescue Fantasy.

Rescue Fantasy tropes have existed in the romance genre since the dawn of time.  There's absolutely nothing wrong with them, when they're done right.  What woman alive hasn't had a day where she just wants someone to swoop in and take care of....everything?  Including her!  We've all been there.  The problem here is that Kat is such an idiot she needs the rescue fantasy.  Otherwise she'd curl up into a little ball and die.  Look cupcake, I get it.  You want the big strong man to protect you.  Hell, I want that too.  But this is the sort of story where that's all Kat has.  Let's say Henley wakes up one morning, finds Kat's blond hair turning ash and her big boobs starting to sag and decides to bang the next pretty intern that walks through the doors at Blaine Technologies?  Kat isn't the kind of woman to stand on her own.  She's not the kind of woman to tell him to take a hike and don't let the door smack you in the ass on the way out.  She would be the kind to ugly cry, have a load of plastic surgery and allow him mistresses on the side just so long as he doesn't leave her.  The author can try to tell me Kat is "smart" all she wants, but that doesn't make it true, especially when she thinks shit like:

"He's a man seeking to plant his seed inside his woman, his urgency palpable, his need gratifying.  I'm a woman submitting, welcoming my man's sexual supremacy, knowing he'll always protect me, cherish me."

I may never stop puking.

I don't slap F grades on books lightly.  There's typically at least something, that one small glimmer of hope.  But looking at this story, thinking about how I felt while reading it, there was just nothing here that I liked.  It did start out OK, but quickly descended into brain-bleed inducing territory.  I'm done.  I'm out.

Final Grade = F

Digital Review: The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecelia Stanton

Warning: Frothing at the mouth, naughty language (I swear - a lot) and spoilers abound.

It was while I was working on my monthly shopping list post of "unusual historicals" for Heroes & Heartbreakers that I ran across The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecelia Stanton by Viveka Portman.  A novella from Harlequin Australia's Escape line, I was immediately intrigued by the description that promised me an erotic romance with a strong girl-on-girl angle.  By my count, I'm one of three erotic romance readers who thinks there isn't nearly enough f/f pairings, so whenever I see a whiff of it, especially from a "mainstream" publisher?  I'm all over that like white on rice.  So yes, I was more than eager to love this novella.  Instead it left me angry.

Very, very angry.

And in typical fashion?  Yeah, it's all ruined by the penis.  OK, maybe not the penis.  Just the asshat the penis is attached too.  Oh and the insipid brain-dead heroine who is married to the asshat attached to the penis.

A sweet young virginal Miss Thang, Lady Cecelia hasn't even had a full first Season before her Daddy pairs her up with Lord William Stanton.  The same Lord Stanton who is a notorious rake.  Seriously, no orifice is safe when Stanton's penis walks into a room - the fish even stop swimming.  So needless to say, the wedding night is a disaster since her husband is intoxicated and has all the finesse of a 16-year-old boy who gets his date in the back seat of his father's Buick.  Comforting Cecelia in her hour of need is her maid, Bess - whom she has known since childhood.  Bess assures her that sex ain't all bad and volunteers to show Cecelia the ropes.  An "education" if you will.  The idea being that once Cecelia learns how awesome-sauce sex can be, she'll welcome her randy husband's attentions.  Seriously sweetheart?  Caligula would be easier to keep up with.

Anyhoodle, things go along quite swimmingly until Cecelia gets pregnant and Stanton is told he needs to keep Little Mr. Venereal Disease Petri Dish away from his wife.  Oh, and gentle readers?  Cecelia ends up having five (count 'em five!) children over the course of this story.  And every time she gets knocked up?  Stanton wanders off to London to debauch every whore in a 50 mile radius, with rumors of his infidelity getting back to his wife in record time.

Now this is an erotic story, and the presence of multiple partners isn't exactly unheard of, let alone shocking.  The problem is that Stanton's infidelities hurt Cecelia terribly.  The emotional component of her being "hurt" makes a colossally huge difference here.  It's one thing if she knows about and "condones" his philandering.  It's something else entirely when the learned knowledge of his screwing everything that stands still for three seconds emotionally wounds her - which it does.  Stanton is crude, uncouth, and has all the polish of a cheap carnival ring that turns your finger green.  He's like the little boy who gets caught with his hand in the cookie jar, says he's sorry, but really isn't.  And why should he be truly sorry?  Why should he be remorseful?  Because during her first pregnancy he stays well and truly gone until the damn baby is three months old!  Gambling away their resources!  Screwing everything in sight!  Cecelia is lonely.  She's hurt by her husband's massive jackassery.  And then he comes waltzing back home, falls to his knees, apologizes like the little boy that he is and.....

SHE FORGIVES HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And then she gets pregnant four more times, the pattern repeats itself four more times and she keeps forgiving him.  Until finally, while pregnant with Baby #5, he doesn't go to London, he stays home and she gets aroused when she spies on him debauching the damn wet nurse.

I just can't even.

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So what about the reason why I read this novella in the first place.  You know, the girl-on-girl action?  Well, first off - it's not exactly painted with a descriptive brush.  Honestly, it's pretty PG.  Bess and Cecelia also aren't exclusive to each other.  I mean, obviously.  Bess is a comely young lass who enjoys male attention and Cecelia is busy forgiving her jackass husband all the time.  This part of the story is almost like an after thought.  Very little time is spent here.  Instead our time is spent reading about Asshole and Doormat Girl - which....

I just can't even.

The worst though?  Yes, it gets worse - rumors start circulating that Cecelia isn't faithful and Asshole actually gets ANGRY with HER?!?!?!  She tells him off, but then STAYS!!!!!  She doesn't pack up the fifteen million babies he's gotten her pregnant with and head to London.  She doesn't kick him out of the house.  She lets him STAY?!?!?!?!?  Then when she finds out about the wet nurse he's banging under the same roof where they RAISE THEIR CHILDREN, she confesses her relationship with Bess to him.  Douchebag is, shockingly /end sarcasm, pretty OK with this confession (duh) and then Cecelia agrees that maybe it would be OK for Bess to join the husband/wife unit during Play Time.

So Douchebag Asshole Walking Venereal Disease(s) not only can whore around and have his doormat wife keep taking him back - but now he's rewarded by also getting to enjoy watching his wife with her female lover.

I just can't even.

The lesson of this story is apparently forgive your husband everything under the sun ladies, and it's OK to have your little lesbian tail on the side - just so long as in the end you let your husband know about it and let him sit in on your dalliances.

I just can't even.

You know why I'm drawn to erotic romance?  When it's done right, it has a strong feminist core.  It's about the heroine's journey.  It's about the heroine "winning."  It's about the heroine being OK with her sexuality and not being punished for it.  In a word, it's subversive.  It celebrates female sexuality in a world that often belittles, stifles and punishes woman for having even the most simple of desires.  This story?  This story is none of that.  This story rewards a "hero" who is the worst sort of asshole and the heroine loses.  Oh sure, she'll get her sexual kicks, but at what cost?  Because at the end of the day?  This guy doesn't love her, despite what he may say.  He's amoral and narcissistic.  And how exactly is a woman who puts up with this sort of nonsense a romance heroine?  I'll tell you - she's not.  She's weak.  She's losing.  And the worst part is she's perfectly content to keep on losing just so long as she can have her Bess-on-the-side and partake in a little voyeurism while her husband screws the household staff.

I just can't even.

Now I'm off to find the nearest bottle of vodka.  If you'll excuse me.

Final Grade = F