A very beautiful GREEN cover for a good author who can still knock them out when she's of a mind.
A terrible lurid cover for what is one of the kindest, and most heartwarming books I've read in ages.
This post has been coming a little while now, and since the last entry in my Guest Season isn't ready yet, I thought I would put it up now, as a return to the usual subject matter of what I think about stuff I have read and watched, plus as a bit of a change!
1. The Winter Lodge (Lakeshore Chronicles 2), by Susan Wiggs
(2007)
(Enjoyed this much less than the first in the series. I didn’t manage to get a large sit down session with this one, as I did with the last, and was the way I got right into that one. This one annoyed me a little – I felt the Food For Thought segments, whilst sensual, as they concerned food and eating and recipes, were nonetheless in the way of the plot and the advancement of the characters, especially toward the end when they felt like they bracketed every chapter. It seemed that the book had not much happening and for a very long time – as if it could have been covered by a novella?
I liked the hero Rourke, very much. I liked his well explained emotional isolation, and his very succinct and to the point way of expressing himself. I liked the heroine too – but by the time the last chapter came, I felt she could have said the simple things to him that she did, to sort out the situation – much earlier. It was odd, as there were events going on, but it felt very bitty.
I liked the Daisy Bellamy section of the book too. She has some big events occurring here: pregnancy and deciding to keep it. Am interested to see how this turns out.
I am in 2 minds about this series now. On the one hand I want to see what happens to Daisy, and I peeped ahead to see who the next book concerned and was happy to see it was Nina, a good character…and I very much like the way the books aren’t the slightest bit concerned with sex, but more with feelings [yes, give me a chocolate medal, I have come over Way Girlie Girl suddenly, Let’s Talk About Our Relationship…FOREVER?!!]. I like the way the books are well plotted and have a different feel to many of the romances I have previously read. But this book really did limp along, and I need DISTRACTION from my worries when I read these books. I demand to be swept up and thoroughly occupied. I don’t need endless drama [in fact, melodrama and over emotion exhaust me and make me feel worse – as I have often complained in the difference between new and old Dr Who, for anyone who also reads those reviews; there’s a comparison]. I just need to be flowed along seamlessly and to care consistently. To be thoroughly in the other world. Not just for constant conflict, but also for lovely moments of wish fulfilment, when scenes of beauty or peace are described…the pacing of this book was so off it took me over a month to finish, and by the end I was just relieved. That’s BAD. This series gets one more go. ACTUAL BOOK.)
(Enjoyed this much less than the first in the series. I didn’t manage to get a large sit down session with this one, as I did with the last, and was the way I got right into that one. This one annoyed me a little – I felt the Food For Thought segments, whilst sensual, as they concerned food and eating and recipes, were nonetheless in the way of the plot and the advancement of the characters, especially toward the end when they felt like they bracketed every chapter. It seemed that the book had not much happening and for a very long time – as if it could have been covered by a novella?
I liked the hero Rourke, very much. I liked his well explained emotional isolation, and his very succinct and to the point way of expressing himself. I liked the heroine too – but by the time the last chapter came, I felt she could have said the simple things to him that she did, to sort out the situation – much earlier. It was odd, as there were events going on, but it felt very bitty.
I liked the Daisy Bellamy section of the book too. She has some big events occurring here: pregnancy and deciding to keep it. Am interested to see how this turns out.
I am in 2 minds about this series now. On the one hand I want to see what happens to Daisy, and I peeped ahead to see who the next book concerned and was happy to see it was Nina, a good character…and I very much like the way the books aren’t the slightest bit concerned with sex, but more with feelings [yes, give me a chocolate medal, I have come over Way Girlie Girl suddenly, Let’s Talk About Our Relationship…FOREVER?!!]. I like the way the books are well plotted and have a different feel to many of the romances I have previously read. But this book really did limp along, and I need DISTRACTION from my worries when I read these books. I demand to be swept up and thoroughly occupied. I don’t need endless drama [in fact, melodrama and over emotion exhaust me and make me feel worse – as I have often complained in the difference between new and old Dr Who, for anyone who also reads those reviews; there’s a comparison]. I just need to be flowed along seamlessly and to care consistently. To be thoroughly in the other world. Not just for constant conflict, but also for lovely moments of wish fulfilment, when scenes of beauty or peace are described…the pacing of this book was so off it took me over a month to finish, and by the end I was just relieved. That’s BAD. This series gets one more go. ACTUAL BOOK.)
2. A Second-Chance Proposal, by C.J. Carmichael (SuperRomance, 2002)
(First in a trilogy about the Shannon sisters. This one, Cathleen, runs a B&B in absence of her boyfriend, who ran out on her before their wedding 2 years ago, as he was suspected of murder. [Of course.] Which he didn’t commit. [Of course.] He comes back, weirdly wants to stay with her and ask for her help proving his innocence. I say weirdly, as though she thinks he is innocent I was not buying that he really was so incredibly dumb as to imagine he could just walk back in and her not be screamingly broken heartedly angry with him. Later in the book – after she has let him stay with her and they are doing much detection – his ridiculously overbearing independence and his always imagining he knows the best for her, does come to explain some of why he left and why he thought he could just waltz back. She does set him straight about how she is capable of looking out for herself and doesn’t need him assuming she can’t, whilst at the same time, teaching him its ok to ask for help sometimes himself. These 2 little dovetailed issues get sorted nicely during the length of the book. I almost put this down to begin with, as it seemed full of attitude without heart – the aggressiveness that American writers can write their females to sometimes, along with the unattractive over-arrogance of the males…but this one calmed down and each characters behaviour was more and more explained as we went through.
It also very nicely set up the next 2 in the trilogy, including who the sisters spouses would be. And of course, there was the whodunit aspect – which was played for clues and motivations, characterization – not false drama, therefore it worked really well. I shall read the other two! ACTUAL BOOK.)
(First in a trilogy about the Shannon sisters. This one, Cathleen, runs a B&B in absence of her boyfriend, who ran out on her before their wedding 2 years ago, as he was suspected of murder. [Of course.] Which he didn’t commit. [Of course.] He comes back, weirdly wants to stay with her and ask for her help proving his innocence. I say weirdly, as though she thinks he is innocent I was not buying that he really was so incredibly dumb as to imagine he could just walk back in and her not be screamingly broken heartedly angry with him. Later in the book – after she has let him stay with her and they are doing much detection – his ridiculously overbearing independence and his always imagining he knows the best for her, does come to explain some of why he left and why he thought he could just waltz back. She does set him straight about how she is capable of looking out for herself and doesn’t need him assuming she can’t, whilst at the same time, teaching him its ok to ask for help sometimes himself. These 2 little dovetailed issues get sorted nicely during the length of the book. I almost put this down to begin with, as it seemed full of attitude without heart – the aggressiveness that American writers can write their females to sometimes, along with the unattractive over-arrogance of the males…but this one calmed down and each characters behaviour was more and more explained as we went through.
It also very nicely set up the next 2 in the trilogy, including who the sisters spouses would be. And of course, there was the whodunit aspect – which was played for clues and motivations, characterization – not false drama, therefore it worked really well. I shall read the other two! ACTUAL BOOK.)
3. The Millionaire and the
Mom, by Patricia Kay
(Silhouette Special Edition, 2001)
(In which I learned that roses are grown on farms, and like a vegetable – and can be very adversely damaged in storms. I really like books where I learn things, and where I see characters working together to fix old or broken things. That was why the first 2/3 of this book was lovely. I felt involved in the tasks, and I cared about the result. [If only I was this industrious in real life?!] The fact that the hero was rich and was pretending not to be of the heroines most hated nemesis family was a bit of a problem, but the vast amounts of wealth he subjected her to at the end and the way he said sorry, ensured that she understood and relented. I didn’t actually mean that to make her sound as though she was mercenary, as she wasn’t, the opposite – but sometimes these books do go a mite too far in their Cinderella aspects. There’s wish fulfilment…then there’s amounts of money that are just obscene for one or two people to have. Anyway: I loved the roses! ACTUAL BOOK.)
(In which I learned that roses are grown on farms, and like a vegetable – and can be very adversely damaged in storms. I really like books where I learn things, and where I see characters working together to fix old or broken things. That was why the first 2/3 of this book was lovely. I felt involved in the tasks, and I cared about the result. [If only I was this industrious in real life?!] The fact that the hero was rich and was pretending not to be of the heroines most hated nemesis family was a bit of a problem, but the vast amounts of wealth he subjected her to at the end and the way he said sorry, ensured that she understood and relented. I didn’t actually mean that to make her sound as though she was mercenary, as she wasn’t, the opposite – but sometimes these books do go a mite too far in their Cinderella aspects. There’s wish fulfilment…then there’s amounts of money that are just obscene for one or two people to have. Anyway: I loved the roses! ACTUAL BOOK.)
4. Night Into Day, by Sandra Canfield, (Super Romance, 1987)
(Now THIS is the real McCoy. [Who was the false one? Must look up origins of that expression before I fling it about next.] This was a wonderfully heartfelt and real feeling romance about a sports personality and a sufferer of early onset, truly chronic arthritis. In which I learned a hell of a lot about how arthritis can affect every single aspect of your daily life and how you can feel utterly alone with it.
I loved the heroine – here, no false bravery or annoyingly asserted independence just to seem like an archetype of a modern woman – no – here was a real person, doing the best she could on a daily basis, with a very difficult condition. Who had decided it was simpler alone and who had been hurt by a previous partner’s reaction to her illness. Enter the magnificently kind and leap off the page hero: Patrick O’Casey. Yes, Patrick: I too, would marry you. He goes to lengths to understand and appreciate her situation, her need to cope and manage as best she can alone; with missteps along the way [the bath oil which she cannot use in her sit up shower]. I loved his love of her, his understanding of her as it grew. I loved her attitude to her hurt, her wound, and how she eventually saw that it could be partially healed by his kindness. The added element here is that the writer has this exact condition – so her details are 100% accurate with no need of research; the emotions are true and real. The husband she has taught her that to be “perfectly imperfect” is beautiful and human.
THIS is what romance books are for and about. The healing power of love in the world. And practically in tears, I command you to read this brill book, that is not mawkish at all, it holds its tone very well: realistic for a tough situation, but also hopeful. This book has added to the sum total of the world’s good things. What an accolade. Keeper shelf. ACTUAL BOOK.)
(Now THIS is the real McCoy. [Who was the false one? Must look up origins of that expression before I fling it about next.] This was a wonderfully heartfelt and real feeling romance about a sports personality and a sufferer of early onset, truly chronic arthritis. In which I learned a hell of a lot about how arthritis can affect every single aspect of your daily life and how you can feel utterly alone with it.
I loved the heroine – here, no false bravery or annoyingly asserted independence just to seem like an archetype of a modern woman – no – here was a real person, doing the best she could on a daily basis, with a very difficult condition. Who had decided it was simpler alone and who had been hurt by a previous partner’s reaction to her illness. Enter the magnificently kind and leap off the page hero: Patrick O’Casey. Yes, Patrick: I too, would marry you. He goes to lengths to understand and appreciate her situation, her need to cope and manage as best she can alone; with missteps along the way [the bath oil which she cannot use in her sit up shower]. I loved his love of her, his understanding of her as it grew. I loved her attitude to her hurt, her wound, and how she eventually saw that it could be partially healed by his kindness. The added element here is that the writer has this exact condition – so her details are 100% accurate with no need of research; the emotions are true and real. The husband she has taught her that to be “perfectly imperfect” is beautiful and human.
THIS is what romance books are for and about. The healing power of love in the world. And practically in tears, I command you to read this brill book, that is not mawkish at all, it holds its tone very well: realistic for a tough situation, but also hopeful. This book has added to the sum total of the world’s good things. What an accolade. Keeper shelf. ACTUAL BOOK.)
5. Games, by Irma Walker (Worldwide, 1986)
(This one commits what I genuinely consider to be THE CARDINAL SIN of romances. There are two, and they are closely related, [a] the series of pointlessly stupid misunderstandings that could have been sorted out with one conversation, but instead fuel the action of the whole book, and [b] one or both of the characters is horrible to the other because of a stupid misunderstanding, but specifically because they are too proud to examine the situation properly. It may well have worked, this last one, for Pride and Prejudice, the supreme example of this book. It worked there because of faultless, absolutely faultless tight rein over dialogue and internal thought. It worked because of biting wit.
All the romance novels of the 80s that I have read that attempt the premise of P&P or more specifically, [b] I enumerated there, fail. They fail because NONE of the ones I have read have biting wit, or any wit – they are too deeply sincere and emotional, so the story is simply too heartwrenching and therefore depressing. It doesn’t matter that we come to understand why the two characters keep coming together in order to only hurt each other and glance off again, until one of them – always hugely unrealistically, I felt – gives in and is The Big Person and lets the other one off the bad behaviour [I always imagine the hero and heroine of these stories are going to end up in marriage counselling if they don’t deal properly with their suspicion issues]…It doesn’t matter that in this book’s case, the heroine is extremely plucky: you end up feeling the book is trying to glorify her long suffering in some ways, and so much of it is needless. Both the hero and the heroine had difficult childhoods, but he in particular has that annoying complaint that many heroes of 80s romances did seem to have: he really is Bloody Annoying and Full of His Own Certainty. He’s so sure she’s a whore, a tart, a worthless woman, he fights his own miserable attraction to her. It’s all a bit…as I said, depressing. It’s not a healthy way to start. And one character simply forgiving the other, with no real evidence of actual growth [which is what would stop the behaviour recurring, genuine understanding and growth, together]…I didn’t buy it.
On the other hand – this story was about casinos, and gambling, and scams, and as a picture of an industry in a certain time period, it gels with other books I have read on the subject and was very interesting. But I couldn’t really enjoy this, as I class it as what I call A Persecution Romance: there is just too much deep suffering inflicted on one character by the other, too much punishment. That’s not romance, its mental health issues dressed up as Epic Romance. In that sense, I am very glad romance as a genre has mostly outgrown this particular sort of hero. We have brooding, we have reform worthy bad boys, we have anti-heroes; but sulky deeply suspicious bastards who are basically sexist and depressing…Christian Grey, you say…? Oh…Ok then. I guess people still like to read the suffering. I don’t. ACTUAL BOOK.)
(This one commits what I genuinely consider to be THE CARDINAL SIN of romances. There are two, and they are closely related, [a] the series of pointlessly stupid misunderstandings that could have been sorted out with one conversation, but instead fuel the action of the whole book, and [b] one or both of the characters is horrible to the other because of a stupid misunderstanding, but specifically because they are too proud to examine the situation properly. It may well have worked, this last one, for Pride and Prejudice, the supreme example of this book. It worked there because of faultless, absolutely faultless tight rein over dialogue and internal thought. It worked because of biting wit.
All the romance novels of the 80s that I have read that attempt the premise of P&P or more specifically, [b] I enumerated there, fail. They fail because NONE of the ones I have read have biting wit, or any wit – they are too deeply sincere and emotional, so the story is simply too heartwrenching and therefore depressing. It doesn’t matter that we come to understand why the two characters keep coming together in order to only hurt each other and glance off again, until one of them – always hugely unrealistically, I felt – gives in and is The Big Person and lets the other one off the bad behaviour [I always imagine the hero and heroine of these stories are going to end up in marriage counselling if they don’t deal properly with their suspicion issues]…It doesn’t matter that in this book’s case, the heroine is extremely plucky: you end up feeling the book is trying to glorify her long suffering in some ways, and so much of it is needless. Both the hero and the heroine had difficult childhoods, but he in particular has that annoying complaint that many heroes of 80s romances did seem to have: he really is Bloody Annoying and Full of His Own Certainty. He’s so sure she’s a whore, a tart, a worthless woman, he fights his own miserable attraction to her. It’s all a bit…as I said, depressing. It’s not a healthy way to start. And one character simply forgiving the other, with no real evidence of actual growth [which is what would stop the behaviour recurring, genuine understanding and growth, together]…I didn’t buy it.
On the other hand – this story was about casinos, and gambling, and scams, and as a picture of an industry in a certain time period, it gels with other books I have read on the subject and was very interesting. But I couldn’t really enjoy this, as I class it as what I call A Persecution Romance: there is just too much deep suffering inflicted on one character by the other, too much punishment. That’s not romance, its mental health issues dressed up as Epic Romance. In that sense, I am very glad romance as a genre has mostly outgrown this particular sort of hero. We have brooding, we have reform worthy bad boys, we have anti-heroes; but sulky deeply suspicious bastards who are basically sexist and depressing…Christian Grey, you say…? Oh…Ok then. I guess people still like to read the suffering. I don’t. ACTUAL BOOK.)
6. The Accidental Duchess, by Madeline Hunter (2014)
(This was a good story. Madeline Hunter can write GREAT stories when she’s in the mood, and this was steady and solid, but not great. As a Georgian [not quite a Regency], it was wonderfully evoked and in time, and the relationship between the steady and solid Penthurst and the wanting a more exciting life Lydia, is nicely done. Like a lot of Hunter’s female characters, she illustrates the limitations placed on women at the time. Her desires for independence are seen as “girlish rebellions”, which annoyed me but was period appropriate. Her methods of getting round it, plus her gambling, which is an important part of the first half of the book, make her interesting to read. There’s blackmail, duelling, shady past lives of friends, and some nice male banter. Strangely, the female friendships seem much more down to earth and therefore almost prosaically written. There weren’t any loose ends at the end of this, but it felt like there were, as some of the storylines were settled very…quietly. Is she never going to gamble again, now he will help her with money for her charitable causes? Will she write a “naughty novel” with his blessing and make her own money that way [shades of Shades, again…]?? Reading a book like this always makes me want to be riding a horse down a country lane, surveying ‘my lands’. Apparently I want to be the bloke in these types of story. Ehem. ACTUAL BOOK.)
(This was a good story. Madeline Hunter can write GREAT stories when she’s in the mood, and this was steady and solid, but not great. As a Georgian [not quite a Regency], it was wonderfully evoked and in time, and the relationship between the steady and solid Penthurst and the wanting a more exciting life Lydia, is nicely done. Like a lot of Hunter’s female characters, she illustrates the limitations placed on women at the time. Her desires for independence are seen as “girlish rebellions”, which annoyed me but was period appropriate. Her methods of getting round it, plus her gambling, which is an important part of the first half of the book, make her interesting to read. There’s blackmail, duelling, shady past lives of friends, and some nice male banter. Strangely, the female friendships seem much more down to earth and therefore almost prosaically written. There weren’t any loose ends at the end of this, but it felt like there were, as some of the storylines were settled very…quietly. Is she never going to gamble again, now he will help her with money for her charitable causes? Will she write a “naughty novel” with his blessing and make her own money that way [shades of Shades, again…]?? Reading a book like this always makes me want to be riding a horse down a country lane, surveying ‘my lands’. Apparently I want to be the bloke in these types of story. Ehem. ACTUAL BOOK.)
7.
Man of My Dreams (2013), Short
Story Anthology by Sherrilyn Kenyon, Maggie Shayne, Suzanne Forster and
Virginia Kantra
(This was restful. I really needed some Sherrilyn Kenyon, I was in the mood for her tone – and she delivered exactly, I really enjoyed her story. Perky, grumpy, sassy characters, very vivid as usual. The Maggie Shayne story didn’t quite do it for me though it was good; I think I was still in the Kenyon zone. The Suzanne Forster story spent too much time dwelling on an attaché case and lost me quite early on. The Virgina Kantra story was sweet, a bit strange and very readable. Made me feel I might try some of her other books – so a new author discovered. That makes the purpose of this anthology fulfilled in life: short bites of people you like already plus discovery. ACTUAL BOOK.)
(This was restful. I really needed some Sherrilyn Kenyon, I was in the mood for her tone – and she delivered exactly, I really enjoyed her story. Perky, grumpy, sassy characters, very vivid as usual. The Maggie Shayne story didn’t quite do it for me though it was good; I think I was still in the Kenyon zone. The Suzanne Forster story spent too much time dwelling on an attaché case and lost me quite early on. The Virgina Kantra story was sweet, a bit strange and very readable. Made me feel I might try some of her other books – so a new author discovered. That makes the purpose of this anthology fulfilled in life: short bites of people you like already plus discovery. ACTUAL BOOK.)
8.
The Séance (2011), by Heather
Graham
(This one I read in bed on and off for about 4 months. Sometimes it held me and sometimes it didn’t. It suffered from 2 problems these sorts of American romance thrillers suffer from – on the one hand, a love of overly gross forensic detail – vaginal trauma to the victims, fine in a regular thriller, but somehow all the wrong tone anywhere near a romance unless its played differently to this; and second, a strange clinical stopping short of the worst excesses a serial killer like this should have had – a flawed characterisation of the, in this case, 2 villains. They just felt cardboard cutout, I didn’t understand them or their motivation at all. I am aware these 2 problems conflict and I’m not sure how I’d sort them, other than changing the whole tone of their way I would have written this story if I had to, were it me. But I don’t think I would have written this exact story because the whole idea of Beau coming back as a ghost to help solve the murders he was framed for was a bit hokey. As was the excessive emphasis on family and groupings – another factor of American romances, and one that makes them very establishment…in a way I don’t find soothing and comforting; in a way I find prescriptive and annoying. ACTUAL BOOK.)
(This one I read in bed on and off for about 4 months. Sometimes it held me and sometimes it didn’t. It suffered from 2 problems these sorts of American romance thrillers suffer from – on the one hand, a love of overly gross forensic detail – vaginal trauma to the victims, fine in a regular thriller, but somehow all the wrong tone anywhere near a romance unless its played differently to this; and second, a strange clinical stopping short of the worst excesses a serial killer like this should have had – a flawed characterisation of the, in this case, 2 villains. They just felt cardboard cutout, I didn’t understand them or their motivation at all. I am aware these 2 problems conflict and I’m not sure how I’d sort them, other than changing the whole tone of their way I would have written this story if I had to, were it me. But I don’t think I would have written this exact story because the whole idea of Beau coming back as a ghost to help solve the murders he was framed for was a bit hokey. As was the excessive emphasis on family and groupings – another factor of American romances, and one that makes them very establishment…in a way I don’t find soothing and comforting; in a way I find prescriptive and annoying. ACTUAL BOOK.)
Sometimes the book covers with just peaceful scenery are gorgeous. This one really made me hear the peace of twilight in winter.
That’s it with this selection of books! Not sure when the next entry in this series
will be, as the romances are books I tend to read right round my other
marathons, and any other lit books I’m reading.
But there’ll be more at some point this year, I should think.
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