#TBRChallenge 2025: The Bikini Car Wash

 The Book: The Bikini Car Wash by Pamela Morsi

The Particulars: Contemporary romance, 2010, Mira, Out of print, self-published reprint 2020, very loosely connected series, The Business Between Us.

Why Was It In Wendy's TBR?: I discovered Morsi through her Americana historical romances and like a lot of historical romance authors, she eventually moved over into contemporary settings. This was one I didn't have in my print TBR, but several years ago I think the digital edition was discounted, which is how it ended up on my Kindle. 

The Review: Pamela Morsi passed away in December 2024 and y'all we lost a frickin' queen. She had a way of writing "cozy" without ignoring harsh realities in her romances, and this book illustrates that perfectly. It's a small town romance that feels cozy and connected, but the author acknowledges the elephant in the room, which is small town living is not all idealized roses and bonbons. 

Andrea "Andi" Wolkowicz had a well-paying corporate job she loved in Chicago but she quits and promptly moves back to her small hometown of Plainview after her mother unexpectedly passes away. Her parents were a great love match, her father is now retired living on a small pile of savings, and is the sole caregiver to her developmentally disabled twin sister, Angela AKA "Jelly." Unfortunately the economy has taken a downturn, and jobs are hard to come by in the area - a lot of folks are out of work, including Andi. After losing out on a part-time job that she was grossly over-qualified for at the local grocery store, Andi is at a low ebb - until she learns that the her father still owns the building where he ran his car wash business for many years.  After her original idea for a drive-thru coffee shop runs afoul of local zoning ordinances, and a villain on the town council, she decides to reopen it as a car wash. The problem is she doesn't have the money to modernize, so she needs a gimmick. Something to get people to show up and pay a little more. That's when she hits upon the idea to hire women and The Bikini Car Wash is born.

Needless to say, women wearing bikinis and washing cars is not met with enthusiasm by all the good townsfolk, but Andi does have one ally on her side - Pete Guthrie. Pete runs the town grocery store, a family business he took over from his father, who he has a strained relationship with. His father never thought anything Pete did was good enough, and that has carried over now that Pete is running a business he's trying to save. The economy being the way it is, his prices being undercut by corporate competitors, anything that will get more traffic into downtown Plainview is a good thing in his opinion. Also, Andi's ability to fill out a tiny red bikini has not gone unnoticed by him.

The dance around Andi and Pete gets off to a rocky start because they went to high school together. Pete was Mr. Popular and kind of a jerk. Andi being a nerd and her sister's disability led to few friends and a fair amount of teasing (bullying feels like too strong a word here - but teenage boys have a gift for being jerks, and that's what Pete was back in the day). Adding to the complication is that Andi had a crush on Pete, and time has only made him more attractive. Also, he's grown-up. Seriously y'all, Pete is a genuinely nice guy but escapes Gary Stu territory because he has some edges to him.

Oh, and did I mention it's Pete's father who does everything in his power to thwart Andi's plans and leads the charge to shut down the Bikini Car Wash? This guy is a very realistic villain, one who suffers from Big Fish, Little Pond Syndrome, who thinks he's Big Man on Campus, and rules over the town with a manipulative iron fist. And just to make him more odious? He's a notorious womanizer who hasn't been faithful to his wife a day of their marriage - an open secret everyone in the town is aware of, which probably explains why Pete's mom has spent retirement avoiding her husband by traveling the globe.

Original cover

This is a curious mix of women's fiction and contemporary romance. The Andi/Pete romance is a main plot thread, but there's a lot of "small town shenanigans" bookending it with a wealth of secondary characters who get page time. I wasn't entirely enamored with the storyline involving Andi's widower father's romance but the two women who work with Andi at the car wash are great, as is the "executive secretary" that Pete's Dad has been using and stringing along since their college days. And Jelly? I'm happy to report that her disability is treated respectfully and she's not shoved into a "mystical oracle" box to serve the story, teaching the non-disabled characters "life lessons" along the way. Jelly has a way of cutting to the heart of a matter when her sister or another character overly complicates the issue, but she's mainly there to round out the story. Also, I'll admit, I loved her obsession with Law & Order. The original, none of that SVU crap. She religiously watches the show and speaks in L&O lingo at times, which this fan found humorous. Also, she's not wrong. Mike Logan is a hothead and I didn't like ADA Serena Southerlyn as much either.

Honestly, it's one of the better small town romances I've read in a while. It doesn't ignore the realities of small town life (struggling economies, less opportunity, busybodies all up in your damn business...) but still retains that cozy charm that Morsi was so well known for. Also, and this cannot be overstated, I inhaled this single title in two greedy gulps. Never, ever discount good world-building. 

Final Grade = B

#TBRChallenge 2024: Runabout

The Book: Runabout by Pamela Morsi

The Particulars: Early 20th Century Historical Romance, 1994, Berkley Jove, Book 2 in series, Self-published reprint 2019

Why Was It In Wendy's TBR?: I've got 3 books by Morsi in my keeper stash (Simple Jess, Courting Miss Hattie and Wild Oats) so needless to say I have others by her peppered throughout my TBR.

Spoilers Ahoy!

The Review:  This book was originally published in 1994 and I started to consistently read romance in 1999.  This is another fine example of a book I would have LOVED (all the heart-eye emojis) had I read it as a Baby Neophyte Romance Reader.  The problem is that I'm now in my Jaded Sea Hag Romance Reader era and folks, there's just too much problematic 1990s BS in this story that I could not overlook, even with Morsi slathering on her consistently charming world-building.

This is a sequel to an earlier book, Wild Oats (which I loved!) and takes place a decade later. Our hero, Luther Briggs, is the son of Cora Briggs' (the heroine of Wild Oats) ex-husband and some of the characters in the earlier book put in an appearance here.  I do think this story stands alone fairly well, but I also think I got a bit more out of it being familiar with the first book.

Dead Dog, Oklahoma is now Prattville and the latest hot topic of gossip is the preacher's daughter, Tulsa May Bruder who has been jilted by Dr. Odie Foote. An old maid of 24, this was seen as Tulsy's last hope for her dream of marriage and children given her carrot-colored hair and slight gap in her front teeth. She's not hideous or anything, but pretty? No. Tulsy's pride is hurt and being the subject of gossip breaks her heart, much like her currently broken Buick Model G Runabout that she got from her BFF, Luther Briggs.  In fact she's on her way to church, her first Sunday service since "the jilting" when she babies the Runabout into Luther's bicycle and automotive repair shop. Childhood friends since his odious grandmother turned him and his brother away after their parents' deaths, Luther wants to help Tulsy and hits upon an idea. What if they pretend to be courting? That will direct talk away from her being jilted by Moldy Odie and once the town gossips find something else to talk about, they can quietly "break up" with Tulsa May doing the "breaking."

This is a pretty straight forward friends-to-lovers set-up and follows the well-worn path that romance readers have come to know and love about this trope.  Two friends who have already "caught feelings" beyond friendship but just don't know it yet.  Add in Morsi's homespun charm, the dynamite country small town world building, and this should have been a surefire success for me.  So what went wrong?

The problem is this book features three romances, Luther and Tulsa May, Doc Odie and Emma Dix (local fallen woman), Arthel (Luther's brother) and Maybelle Penny (the prettiest girl in town and daughter of the town's head gossip), and each romance features a trash human being.

When the book opens Luther is in bed with Emma, who he has been "seeing" for a while. But then his BFF Tulsy shows up, he proposes his plan (while Emma is WAITING IN HIS BED mind you), we're off to the races and....he never sees or says another word to Emma ever again. He just ghosts her. Emma got into a spot of trouble when she was younger, running off with a married man (who she didn't know was married). She only came back to Prattville to care for her sickly father, whom adores her (and she him). Luther is the handsomest man in town, owns his own business, and she had hopes that their "good times" would lead to more.  Much hay is made that Luther never made her any promises, that he told her he wasn't ready to marry yada yada yada.  But you know what?

I DON'T CARE!  I know it takes two to tango but I still think Luther is trash in this scenario.

Eventually Emma enters into Doc Odie's orbit, since he's the town doctor and her father is sick.  Odie takes a shine to Emma (because she's so good to her father, I guess?), confronts Luther about his shabby treatment of her, and gets his shabby treatment of Tulsy thrown back in his face. I mean, Luther has a point. Two trash men, two romances, same book.

Finally, there's Maybelle who used to have a powerful crush on Arthel. He crushed her feelings for him when they were younger, and now both at 18, they have a very adversarial relationship.  Part of the back-story in this duology, and the reason that Luther and Arthel were never received by their grandmother after their parents' death is because they are part-Cherokee. Their father (the ex-husband from Wild Oats) fell in love with their Cherokee mother, creating quite the scandal. Luther strongly resembles his father but Arthel has prominent Cherokee features.  Since their falling out years before, pretty spoiled Maybelle now calls Arthel names like "Geronimo" and "Chochise."  Instead of finding this problematic or, I don't know, racist as hell, Arthel isn't bothered by it and instead seeks out ways to ruffle Maybelle's feathers as a schoolboy would with his first crush. 

My print copy clocks in at 295 pages, which means none of these romances gets a ton of room to breath and grow, but the Emma/Odie and Maybelle/Arthel romances are very lightly sketched. I can't see either marriage working because all I know about Emma and Odie is that he admires her for taking care of her sick father and that Maybelle's idea of an endearment is racism.  Then there's Luther, who I'm supposed to think is some great guy and he'll do right by Tulsy, but we never see him owning up to his past mistakes and behavior with Emma, nor do he and Tulsy have any kind of conversation about his past dalliances. (There's a scene later in the book where Tulsy hears innuendos about Luther and Emma but she's so sunny and naïve that it's not entirely clear if she puts two and two together, which means no confrontation scene other than Emma getting a "suitor" who nearly rapes her afterward to beat the tar out of Luther. Sorry not sorry, I couldn't help thinking he deserved the beating). 

When I picked this book for the With a Little Help from My Friends TBR prompt I had high hopes.  I tend to love Morsi's brand of homespun Americana, but the fact that Arthel nearly gets lynched towards the end (the only thing that saves the menfolk from tracking him down is Tulsy deflecting the drama away from Arthel to her and Luther) kills a lot of the charm. Historically accurate? Absolutely. What I want to necessarily read in a book where the tone is shooting for charming homespun Americana? Yeah, no. 

I'm torn on the final grade. The mob mentality that uncomfortably felt like a brewing lynching at the end meant I could no longer justify a B- grade even if I softened my opinion on the three trash characters. However, this also wasn't as bad as a D grade for me. There's still some Morsi charm here but I'm sorry, fair or not, I just expect more. For all those reasons...

Final Grade = C-

Comforting Vs. Tired

I tend to file away all genre fiction in the same file cabinet I keep in my brain.  Which is to say, I don't think they're all that different from each other.  It's "genre" for a reason.  There are conventions, there are expectations - it just varies depending on the genre you're talking about.  For example, hero(ine) quests are pretty darn popular in fantasy, in romances you get the "happy ending," and in mystery/suspense I expect there to be some crime-solving involved.

One thing though that I think does make the romance genre unique is this concept that many readers have of a Comfort Author.  Those authors we turn to when we want and/or need "comforting."  It's the genre reading equivalent of drinking hot chocolate by the fire place on a cold winter's day; Or having a crappy day at work, and coming home to have macaroni and cheese for dinner.

What makes an author a Comfort Author for me is that I know exactly what I'm going to get even before I read the first sentence.  I know this concept is enough to turn up the noses of every stuffed literary shirt on the planet, with English professors falling into a swoon and tutting, tutting an awful lot.  I know, it sounds absurd.

Which begs the question - what is exactly the deciding factor on what makes a Comfort Author....well....comforting?

Ask any reader on the planet if they stopped reading an author because "all their books were the exact same thing over and over again," and every single one of us has at least one.  Besides the sloppiness of the final product - it's why I ultimately quit Patricia Cornwell.  I've heard other readers say it's why they've quit Janet Evanovich, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Lora Leigh and Danielle Steel (just to name a few).

But then there are other authors who employ similar themes and tropes consistently throughout their body of work, and we continue to lap it up - begging for more.  Or in my case with Maggie Osborne, bemoan the fact that they retired.  Because as much as I love Maggie?  Yeah, she had a tendency to beat the ol' "rough around the edges, tomboy heroine" drum pretty dang hard.  Then there's Pamela Morsi - whose historicals tended to all be set in a similar backwoods settings, all with "salt of the Earth" style characters.

My latest Comfort Author?  Just might be Jessica Hart, who has such a major category romance backlist that I'll probably get through it all by the time I'm 85.  I'm currently reading her latest release, We'll Always Have Paris (review eventually will land over at TGTBTU), and I was struck by the fact that she definitely has her favorite pet themes.  This story features a stuffed-shirt hero and a bubbly, extroverted heroine who will undoubtedly breathe some life into his gray, drab world.

It's a familiar trope for me, and for Hart.  She's used it before in Oh-So-Sensible Secretary (stuffed shirt heroine, free-spirit hero) and Juggling Briefcase and Baby (stuffed shirt hero, free-spirit heroine).  She's also fond of the heroine who is the polar opposite of the rest of her family members (see We'll Always Have Paris and Under the Boss's Mistletoe).  And yet?  I'm sucked in.  To the point where I'm kicking myself from here to eternity for starting the book when I darn well knew I was going to have to put it down and go to my job.

Stupid job.  Stupid boss for expecting me to do stupid work while I'm at my stupid job.  I knew I should have called in dead when I had the chance.

So what is it about Maggie Osborne, Pamela Morsi and Jessica Hart that keeps me reading, even when the book has striking similarities to other books written by those very same authors?  What has turned them into Comfort Authors as opposed to Old Tired Authors I've Broken Up With?

Honestly?  I'm not entirely sure.  It might be that they're working with tropes and themes that I've grown so particularly fond of over the years that they don't feel "tired" to me (yet, at any rate).  It could also come down to the elusive magical element we call Voice.  Some authors just have that little bit of magic, that element to their writing that sucks you in to the point where you'd read their grocery list.  I'm not sure how to define it, and I'm not even sure what those elements are in an author's "voice" that end up striking a chord with me.

Whatever it is, I probably shouldn't try to over-analyze it or question it too much.  I should just be happy that I have such a relationship with more than one writer.  Enjoy the ride Wendy, enjoy the ride.

What is it for you that makes an author a Comfort Author?  Are there striking similarities shared between their books that you've overlooked for one reason or another?  What makes you quit one author because all their books "sound the same," yet continue on with others and deem them "comforting?"

TBR Challenge 2010: Try A Little Tenderness

The Book: Wild Oats by Pamela Morsi

The Particulars: Berkley Jove, Historical Americana Romance (early 20th century), 1993, Book One In Series (pretty sure), Out Of Print, Easy To Find Used (lots o' cheap copies for sale on Amazon, and looks like PBS has copies).

Why Was It In The Bat Cave TBR?: I have two other books (Simple Jess and Courting Miss Hattie) by Ms. Morsi in the Bat Cave Keeper Stash. Needless to say, I seriously glommed her backlist. Also, this one has a virgin hero - and I'm a total sucker for a virgin hero. Deviant woman that I am.

The Review: I totally "get" and understand the fantasy appeal in romance. Who doesn't want a dashing Duke or Greek tycoon to show up at their front door and "take them away from it all?" But for my money, nothing flips my switch more than romance novels that feature "normal" people. Some may say that's boring, and some may say they need the "escapist" factor, but for me there is nothing more romantic than the idea that anybody, anywhere, is capable of falling in love and finding their happily ever after. Sentimental old goat that I am. Nobody, and I mean nobody, does this better than Pamela Morsi and it's why so many of us adore her historical romances.

Jedwin Sparrow is the mortician of Dead Dog, Oklahoma and a grown man of 24. It is only through his strong character that he hasn't turned into a hopeless mama's boy thanks to his controlling, sour mother, Amelia. Like most young men of 24, he's getting an itch he desperately wants to scratch, but he doesn't want to get married....yet. So he gets the idea to make an indecent proposal to Mrs. Cora Briggs, the most scandalous woman in town.

Cora is ::gasp:: divorced, which means in the minds of the townspeople she's a whore. When young Jedwin shows up on her doorstep and clumsily makes his proposition, she's appalled. The town may think she's a trollop, but she's nothing of the sort! However, she doesn't turn Jedwin out. Frankly, it was his mother Amelia that led the campaign to smear her reputation and wouldn't it take the woman down several notches if her precious baby boy was having an affair with that no-account, trashy, slutty Cora Briggs? So she tells Jedwin she'll consider his proposition, but as a lady she wants to be romanced. Imagine her surprise when he takes to the idea and a full-fledged courtship begins.

Morsi's historical romances were about salt-of-the-Earth people. Unless your blood runs purely blue, shake your family tree and ancestors that could populate a Morsi historical romance could come tumbling out. Jedwin is so blessedly clumsy and clueless that you would actually feel sorry for the guy if his proposition to Cora wasn't so insulting. But bless his heart, he quickly catches on - and his romancing of her is sweet, tender, and easily brought a smile to my lips. He's not fancy, he's not debonair, he's not a macho Alpha dog marking his territory. Jedwin Sparrow is a nice guy who wants his own life. Not the life his mother wants him to have, but the one he wants. And when he realizes he wants Cora Briggs for more than a clandestine affair, he puts on the full court press of convincing her that he really loves her. Not just the sex (hey, which is nice) but her.

Leaving Dead Dog after her divorce wasn't much of an option for Cora, who has no family whatsoever to rely on. She's a good, hardworking woman, who understands how society works and her place in it. She initially humors Jedwin to tweak his mother's nose, but as she develops feelings for the sweet, hardworking man, she knows she must send him away. He just doesn't understand the "rules." Rules that state that nice guys like Jedwin Sparrow cannot be with women like Mrs. Cora Briggs without there being damaging consequences.

What I really liked about this story is that the author gives all her characters a nice dimension. Even her villains have some depth. It would have been so easy to paint Jedwin's mother as a vile, evil shrew of the woman - but instead Morsi gives her a multi-faceted personality, allowing the reader to understand her, even if we don't agree with her. At that end, there is some redemption towards the final chapters that I'm not sure I completely buy - although the author sells it really well, and it's easy to overlook quibbles when my sappy romantic heart was practically bursting out of my chest. This is really a tender, lovely story, and another example of what made Morsi's historicals so fantastic. I'm certainly very happy that I have the follow-up book, Runabout, sitting in my TBR.

Final Grade = A-

I've been remiss in posting lately - my deepest, sincerest apologies for those of you who can't get enough of my blog. This is of course assuming that anybody is actually reading it other than my older sister. I'm always more than happy to hear from cyberlurkers - just follow the link on the right to Wendy's Bookworm Corner and you'll find an e-mail form right there on my home page.

The only interesting tidbit going on at the moment is a discussion that has popped up among TRR's review staff. One of our faithful has decided to write a piece on the sexiest moments in romantic fiction - and she naturally needs examples. Who are we to refuse?

I provided my vote with a book I recently reviewed - Standing In The Shadows by Shannon McKenna. I'll pretty much read any book thrown in front of me (occupational hazard) - which means I can read a "just kisses" romance right after reading one that would give my father a stroke. McKenna falls into the stroke category, as she is published under the Kensington Brava banner.

I read a lot of Brava books - mainly because I love a good barn-burner - so I feel fairly confident is saying that McKenna is their rising star. Her sex scenes are never silly, tend to be emotionally messy, and the best part is - there's tap dancing. By tap dancing I mean the build-up leading to that first sexual encounter - sometimes taking several chapters. Foreplay if you will.

Which made me realize that the foreplay is often the sexiest moment for me in a romance novel. Go figure.

My other vote went to a wonderful early Pamela Morsi novel, Courting Miss Hattie. Anyone who has ever read Morsi knows she does not write sexually explicit books. In fact - they tend to fall somewhere in between my PG/PG-13 radar. While this is true for Courting Miss Hattie - it is the way the author writes those love scenes that had me practically melting into my favorite reading chair. It also helps considerably that her couple goes from best friends to lovers - giving them just the right amount of awkwardness when exploring their true feelings for one another.

Sometimes the journey can be more fun than actually arriving at your destintation - and I think that is what appeals to me in a well-written romance novel. One theory anyway....