Tag Archives: historical romance

To Love a Thief by Darcy Burke

Meh, but more on that later.

There are a lot of large men in period romance novels: tall, dark, and handsome, with historically-inaccurate muscle definition. Excellent traits all.  I’m a woman of average height and I’ve never dated anyone tall, although it has a definite appeal. Feeling petite is one of those things I just know I would delight in. The heroine of To Love a Thief, Jocelyn, is a tiny little thing who just manages comes up to the middle of the hero’s chest, so about like this –

heights 2

which is totally fine, but I always wonder about the upright kissing. Romance authors like to say that the characters “fit perfectly”, or are “pressed along each others length”, but what are the practical considerations of this height differential? My former boss was about 6’4″, and when I hugged him goodbye, I stood on tiptoe and barely cleared his shoulder; moreover, the heroine is always putting her arms around the hero’s neck. Is that even possible from a standing start? He would have to bend over and therefore away from her to reach, right? I want to read a romance with a running joke that the hero is always making sure the heroine is on a step, or he sits down on the edge of a piece of furniture, or simply lifts her straight up (swoon) to deal with the issue. And don’t even get me started on the impossibility of certain positions with such a pronounced height difference.  He’d throw his back out. It’s contrary to the laws of physics, no matter how historically-inaccurate his muscles are. No one could vigorously squat or, conversely, stand on tiptoe for that long. This is what gnaws at me while I read these books. Well, this and “aren’t they freezing?”; “just how big is this bed?”; and “that’s not really feasible with the bathtub you just described”.

In To Love a Thief, Jocelyn Renwick is on the shelf, but still in circulation. Her only season was cut short by a series of unfortunate events, including a traumatic burglary and her father’s death. Two years later, she has returned to society as a lady’s paid companion. During her absence Daniel Carlyle, a former constable, inherited a title and has devoted himself to learning his new duties and to navigate the world he has joined, aided by his close friends Lord and Lady Aldridge. When first they meet, Daniel is captivated, but Jocelyn is distracted by Lady Aldridge’s necklace. It is identical, down to a surface scratch, to one that was stolen from her home.

Jocelyn sets out to retrieve/steal her family heirlooms from the Aldridges and Daniel catches her in the act. They work at odds, and then together, to solve the really quite obvious mystery of Lord Aldridge’s nefarious activities. There is some traipsing through London’s underworld, villainous mustache twirling, and a beleaguered household staff that keeps getting tied up. None of it is very exciting or fresh, and I admit to having perused certain portions rather quickly.

I don’t know if Darcy Burke is a new author, but the writing feels like she is. There were occasional flashes of potential, but overall it was pretty flat. The main problem was that the reader is told Daniel and Jocelyn have fallen in love rather than being shown. For obvious reasons, the ability to convey attraction and emotion is essential to success in this genre.

To Love a Thief was free for Kindle on Amazon; I downloaded it as one of several such items. It’s a clever marketing ploy, if it gets you to buy more of the writer’s work. It won’t, but I can’t blame Burke, or her publisher, for trying.

Julie Anne Long also has a historical romance called To Love a Thief and it is delightful.

This Wicked Gift by Courtney Milan

I’ve written about the two men and seven plots that occupy all romance novels, but I’ve given short shrift to the women, so this is what I’ve learned since my first romance novel review 136 books ago: She’s still either a Wallflower or a Victim of Circumstance. The Wallflower is a lovely, pert, overlooked woman who needs to get her light out from under that bushel. The Victim of Circumstance is someone who, usually due to exigencies beyond her control, has dim prospects and has to make her own luck. Both women are bright and self-sufficient, and, contrary to what I suspect many people think about romance novels (when they think about them at all), they are not being “rescued” by the hero. They either rescue him, or they find their way together.

When people are kind enough to ask me to recommend a romance writer to them, I always suggest Courtney Milan unreservedly. Correction: One reservedly, Trial by Desire, her second book. With the novella This Wicked Gift, I have read her entire output and thus have to writhe in anticipation of her next publication; fortunately, this one did not disappoint. It broke my heart and then put a smiley-face band aid around it.

A Christmas story, This Wicked Gift, is part of Milan’s first trio of published works, which also includes Proof by Seduction and Trial by Desire. William Q. White, a clerk scraping by after being perfunctorily disinherited, is in love with Lavinia Spencer. Astute, determined, and vivacious, she runs the local lending library to which he has a subscription, and she thrills to his presence as well. William takes advantage of an opportunity to be of service to Lavinia, and then takes advantage of her indebtedness to him, or so he thinks.

Milan never shies away from the grinding poverty of 19th century England and this book dwells not with the lords and ladies of so many romance novels, but with honest people trying to eke out a living in an often harsh and loveless world. To weave the fight against one’s own penury, place in the world, and the striving for some semblance of a comfortable life into a genre story based around romantic love is quite an accomplishment. It is indeed romantic and it feels realistic.

The last Milan novella I read, A Kiss for Midwinter, contained a heart-stoppingly romantic moment. This book contained a sentence that broke my heart into a thousand pieces, “You would need never feel cold again.” It wasn’t a romantic line, it was meant literally: You will have the financial wherewithal to purchase warm clothing and fuel to heat your home. Imagine a life where being warm seems like an unattainable luxury. Being cold is something I despise and resent. Whenever I read a book with characters living in poverty, being cold always occurs to me. I won’t even read the Highland Laird romance genre because I am always thinking, “God, it must be so damp. It would just crawl through your clothing and envelop you for nine months of the year. I don’t care how good a kisser he is, he’s not worth it.”

Links to my other reviews can be found on The (Shameful) Tally 2014 or my list of books by author.

Also from Courtney Milan

The Carhart Series
This Wicked Gift – please see above
Proof by Seduction
Trial by Desire – one of only two Milan books I don’t recommend

The Turner Brothers Series
Unveiled
Unclaimed
Unraveled – personal favourite
Unlocked

The Brothers Sinister Series
The Governess Affair – very good novella
The Duchess War – great
A Kiss for Midwinter – CLASSIC
The Heiress Effect – the secondary plot was lovely
The Countess Conspiracy – superlative
The Suffragette Scandal – CLASSIC, MASTERWORK
Talk Sweetly to Me (novella) – August 19, 2014 (bouncing with excitement)

Independent Novellas
The Lady Always Wins
What Happened at Midnight

The Mackenzie Series: The Seduction of Elliott McBride by Jennifer Ashley

I lovehate Jennifer Ashley. I went on about my feelings at length in an earlier review and yet I still read the next novella, A Mackenzie Family Christmas: The Perfect Gift, and novel in the Mackenzie series.

The Seduction of Elliott McBride may be the book that cures me of my love and brings me down solidly on the side of hate, or at the very least never, ever paying for one of Ashley’s books ever, ever again.  The novel opens with very proper Juliana St. John being left at the altar as her fiance has married his piano teacher. Quelle horreur! Taking a moment alone in a chapel, Juliana SITS ON her childhood friend  Elliott McBride. He has recently returned from India a shattered, but appealingly bronzed, man, and, since they have always loved each other from afar, they decide to marry right away, like, RIGHT AWAY, in the next 15 minutes, and so begins the story.

As with all Ashley men, Elliott McBride has a histrionically torturous back story. He wants Juliana to ground and heal him, so after impulsively marrying, they go straight to the manor he has bought in a remote area of Scotland. With the patience of a saint and the personality of a handkerchief, Juliana passively endures all manner of ridiculous subplots including Elliott’s blackouts and unpredictable violent rages (which are never directed her and that somehow makes them okay); accusations of murder; a stalker; a home in complete disrepair; the home’s violent and irascible existing resident; a culturally patronizing portrayal of Elliott’s Sikh servants; a mixed-race lovechild; Elliott’s random disappearances; his history of imprisonment and profound abuse up to, and including, brainwashing; and hostility from the locals, all while isolated from her family and any semblance of the life she has known. Juliana is fine with it. All of it. She only wants to help. She makes a lot of lists to help organize things. None of the lists seem to include the following:

  1. hide all knives
  2. hide all  guns
  3. install stout padlock on bedroom door
  4. have doctor secretly examine husband
  5. have husband committed
  6. make conjugal visit to asylum

A laundry list of plot ridiculousness is typical of Ashley, but she usually balances it with a love story sufficiently charming to counteract said ridiculousness. That is not the case here. The book is awful and NOT because of everything I’ve already mentioned, though it certainly helps. The fundamental problem is that it’s not a romance novel: Elliott and Juliana start out in love. They stay in love. Their love does not waver. They get busy from the get go. There is nothing actually keeping them apart. The story doesn’t build to anything in their relationship. That is not a romance novel. It’s Ashley attempting to hit all the highlights of her most popular book, The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie, and skipping the sincere love story part that endeared her to me in spite of her farcical plotting. She completely missed the point.

I will be resetting my romance reading summary, The (Shameful) Tally for the New Year. I’m under the impression I’ve read everything decent in the historical romance genre and now I have to wait for the good authors to publish new work, so I am anticipating far less shame and a proportionately reduced tally. I may have to read a real, proper book work of literature.

A summary of Jennifer Ashley’s catalogue can be found here. Links to my other reviews can be found on my complete reading list of books sorted by author or Author Commentary & The Tallies Shameful.

The Wallflowers Series: Secrets of a Summer Night, It Happened One Autumn, The Devil in Winter, and Scandal in the Spring by Lisa Kleypas

Bow down, motherfu*kers. The Queen is in the house.

Go look at my list of books by author. Note that one author has TWENTY-THREE entries on it. Lisa Kleypas is my historical romance genre gold standard. Hers are the books I place on the “keeper shelf”, have re-read the most, and will recommend to anyone who will listen. As is my wont, I read one of her best books first and then went back and devoured everything else I could find. Her earliest work is a bit rough, but she started gathering steam with Dreaming of You (CLASSIC) and forged ahead from there. She has a few connected series, but The Wallflowers and The Hathaways are the strongest.

Kleypas specializes in rakish, sardonic, self-made men, otherwise known as my catnip.  One of the things I find particularly enjoyable is that the men have either worked their way up from virtually nothing, or are making their own way in the world despite inherited privilege.

The Wallflowers, Annabelle, Evie, Lillian, and Daisy, are four young women out in society who bond over their mutual rejection by eligible men. After spending time on the side lines of many a ballroom, they decide to work together to find suitable husbands. There is a lot of cross-pollination between the stories which means you get to visit the characters multiple times.

Continue reading

The Brothers Sinister Series: A Kiss for Midwinter by Courtney Milan

A Kiss for Midwinter is one of my all-time favourite romances. It’s in my top five.

I read romance novels for the banter, and, indeed, the romance, but writing emotion genuinely and sincerely is very difficult. A Kiss for Midwinter contains one heart-stoppingly romantic moment and such moments are rare. Julie Anne Long almostalmost managed one in her last book , but of the scores of novels I’ve read, I would say there have been maybe 8 times when I was actually overwhelmed by the sincerely romantic nature of what was happening. Not crying mind you, but gasping and covering my mouth, and doing that hand fanning gesture while I took a moment. This was that.

A Kiss for Midwinter is a novella in Courtney Milan’s Brothers Sinister series. The collection includes two novellas, this one and The Governess Affair, and a full length novel, The Duchess War, so far. I have read and will read everything in the series, and anything else Milan publishes. She is the best writer in the business. Tessa Dare is a lot of fun, Julie Anne Long gives great smolder and is wonderfully funny, but Courtney Milan is an artist. She’s funny, romantic, realistic, and heartbreaking, plus this book has a Spinal Tap reference in the first chapter. Her heroes are exclusively protectors, perhaps slightly forbidding (I’m looking at you, Smite), and possess fierce honesty. They demand the same honesty of their partners which allows the women freedom from Victorian society’s double-standards and strictures.

Lydia Charingford is the best friend of The Duchess War’s Minnie and this story picks up where that happy ending left off. Set in 1860s Leicester, Lydia has recently broken her engagement and is at a loose end. She and Dr. Jonas Grantham volunteer with a group that provides support to the local poor, the same group which populates his practice. Jonas has been in love with Lydia for over a year, but his brusque, brutally frank manner overwhelms her, and, more importantly, makes her feel seen through into places where she does not wish to look. With a terrible sense of humour and a bleak world view, Jonas sets out to court the vivacious Lydia by daring her to accompany him on three house calls and not be demoralized. His prize, should he “win”, is a kiss. If she wins, he must never speak to her again.

Having a wager involving a doctor working in the slums allows Milan to write about parts of the world usually seen only in passing in novels built around cultural necrophilia. The story is well-researched and the quality of it, and the writing, lift her books out of the genre. Not that there is anything wrong with the genre, but when I read Milan it can feel like I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out: A perfectly enjoyable piece of escapist reading suddenly feels like a “proper” book. I don’t know how to say that without insulting the genre, other than to clarify: There are things one looks to these books for and glimpses of workaday reality are not among them, but Milan folds everything in so well, the reading experience becomes more, and with every book she’s getting even better.

A complete summary of Courtney Milan’s catalogue, with recommendations, can be found here.

Links to my other reviews can be found on my complete reading list of books sorted by author or Author Commentary & The Tallies Shameful which includes the aforementioned observations.

The Mackenzie Series: The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie, Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage, The Many Sins of Lord Cameron, and The Duke’s Perfect Wife by Jennifer Ashley

There are only two romance genre hero types and a few storylines. That’s it. The hero is either a Rake or a Protector. If, for some heretofore unimaginable reason, I was asked to, I could slide down The Shameful Tally and instantly assign Rake/Protector status to all of the heroes listed. I prefer a “reformed rake who will make the best husband” myself, with an occasional big lug thrown in for variety. If the hero is sardonic and calls the heroine “Sweetheart”, I am SO IN. The Rakes are generally charming, dry, seemingly indolent, and very experienced. The Protector is a warrior: probably taciturn, very kind, gentle, and uncommonly stalwart. So you take one of these two men, make him either wry or laconic, and match him to one, or more, of these storylines: The Reformation of the Rake; The Awakening of the Wallflower; The Revenge Plot; The Marriage of Convenience (including The Road Trip and Intrigue or Mystery) or The Tortured Hero or Heroine.

The Tortured Hero moves through the other stories and, depending on your taste, can be as thoroughly or as gently tortured as is your preference. MANY of the characters have sleep issues in these books and PTSD comes up a fair amount, too. Traumatized soldiers and child abuse survivors are common. Unless you are reading one of the really good authors, the psychological issues are not particularly realistic and seemingly easy to overcome.

But let’s move on to the more fun kaleidoscope of spoilers and annoyance with the author part of the review. These books each have an exhaustively tortured hero. The spoilers will help get my point across and, more importantly, the endings are foregone conclusions, so how much can I ruin anyway? Here is what you need to know about Jennifer Ashley:

When she is good she is very, very good, but when she is bad, she is horrid.

The entire range exists in every book. It’s kind of mesmerizing.

The Mackenzie brothers’ father was a fu*king monster who murdered their mother and was psychotically abusive towards his sons. All four men are very damaged. Damaged in a way that in real life creates drug addicts, madmen, or living in the metaphorical fetal position for years at a time. As is often the case, the last book features the most forbidding of the men; the one you can’t imagine rooting for, or whose arrogance and aloofness is nigh on insurmountable. The Mackenzies are intense, insanely rich, scandalously behaved, and frequently kilted. A detail in the books’ favour is that they are set in my preferred clothing period (bustles!) which adds a frisson of joy to my reading experience.

The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie Protector

Ian has what I think is supposed to be Aspergers Syndrome, or a similar condition. His fascination with the widow Beth Ackerley is intense and highly-focused, but sincere, from the moment he meets her, and somehow manages to avoid obsession. Ian considers himself too damaged to love and, what with it being a romance novel and all, is proved wrong. Love heals all and redeems all. A nice thought. But while Jennifer Ashley can be spectacular at the love part, she is equally atrocious at the back story. You see, Ian not only has some kind of disorder (with savant elements, obvs), he was also abused by his fu*king monster father, and was institutionalized in 19th century England (shudder), and was experimented on/tortured, and may have killed a prostitute in a rage (who hasn’t?), and is being stalked by an obsessed investigator, and is exploited by his eldest brother, Hart, who treats Beth abominably. Overwrought enough for you? Frankly, I had enough trouble getting past the fact that he rarely makes eye contact with the heroine, and often loses the thread when she speaks to him, never mind the other 19 ridiculous elements.

Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage Rake

Do you enjoy chaos junkies? This is the book for you!

Charming Roland “Mac” Mackenzie, is an artist. His fu*king monster father tried to break all his pencils and all his fingers, but Mac persisted. He cares deeply about his art; he doesn’t sell or display it, mind you, and he hasn’t painted anything good since his wife Isabella justifiably left him four years ago. Still. Artist. Mac and Isabella met and married on the night of her society debut when she was 18 and he 23. Madly in love, their relationship was a roller coaster of honeymoon periods, his overwhelming behaviour, then disappearances and reappearances to repeat the cycle, until a pretty epic final straw.

The story begins after a 4 year separation, but includes flashbacks and excerpts from local gossip papers. Mac has decided that Isabella has had enough “space” and it is time to rebuild the relationship. Conveniently, his house burns down and he moves in with her. Sure. There is a lot of “Come here! Go away!” They love each other deeply, but Isabella is afraid of being hurt again, although she is willing to, um, consort with Mac. He is trying to show he is a better, calmer man, and sober. Did I mention he is a recovering alcoholic? Or the sub-plot about some crazy guy who is forging Mac’s works and just happens to look almost exactly like Mac because of course he does, and faux Mac paints Isabella nude from his imagimanation which freaks her out, despite the fact that it’s romantic when Mac does it, and helps them find their way back to one another and move forward with their lives? It’s how they do.

Many Sins of Lord Cameron Rake

For all my railing at the overkill, I did actually enjoy the first three books quite a bit, particularly this one. You just have to skip over chunks of ridiculous exposition lest one succumb to the desire to fling the book away from oneself with great force. I read them on Mr. Julien’s Kindle, so that would have been what is known as “a bad idea”.

Cameron owns and trains race horses which, I have to admit, is pretty cool. He’s a widower with a teenaged son, Daniel. His rampagingly mentally-ill wife killed herself during one of their arguments. The first Lady Cameron was so melodramatically insane that she makes the first Mrs. Rochester look a bit wistful. She was a violent, deranged, alley cat of a woman who beat, burned, and attempted to sexually violate him. Cam is supposed to be about 6’ 4” and brawny, but he let his wife hurt him, so that she would not hurt their infant son. Yet he didn’t, oh, I don’t know, institutionalize his wife, or seek proper help for her. This, apparently, shows loyalty. Cam’s a skooch damaged. Oh, and with a few exceptions, like the heroine of the book and his sisters-in-law, he hates is deeply distrustful of women. That’s an interesting choice in a romance novel: the hero sees women as beautiful, rapacious toys, interested only in pleasure and presents. Swoon.

Into Cam’s life comes the widow Ainsley Douglas. She’s a good and kind woman, who has a scandal in her past, but don’t we all? Ainsley is a lady in waiting to Queen Victoria, who either ignores Ainsley or is monumentally demanding according the whims of the author and needs of the plot. She is tasked with retrieving stolen love letters from the Queen to Mr. Brown (historical reference bonus +5, I guess) that just happen to be in the possession of Cam’s current mistress, who just happens to ALSO be a lady in waiting to the Queen. To sum up: blackmail, Queen, women untrustworthy, bad man owns good horse and must be thwarted subplot, Ainsley and Cam ♥.

On an up note, the fu*king monster of a father pretty much left Cameron alone.

I was willing to overlook over the histrionic elements in the first three books for the actually very charming and sincere love elements, but there is one more to go:

The Duke’s Perfect Wife Protector

So here with are with Hart. The earlier books hint at a very dark and shocking sexual history, including a propensity for violence, plus there’s that mistress he kept for years who tried to kill Beth in book one. Hart spent The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie treating Ian like a servant and Beth like a gold digger, and the subsequent books being an overbearing tyrant. Once upon a time engaged to Eleanor, she broke his heart and left him. I think it was because of the mistress, I can’t remember, whatever, it was ENTIRELY justifiable and she is ENTIRELY too understanding about everything. Hart married elsewhere and then lost both his wife (who was ENTIRELY terrified of him) and his infant son in rapid succession.

As this book begins, Hart has decided to win Eleanor back because, apparently, she’s his true love despite the whole long-standing-devoted-mistress-who-accomodated-his-fetishes-and-tried-to-kill-Beth thing. If this were virtually any other romance novel, this is when we would see beneath Hart’s anguish and turmoil to a deeply caring man, motivated only by love and duty, despite the seemingly impenetrable veneer of sexually-twisted tyrant. Good luck with that. Ashley spent three books setting him up as an irredeemable bastard with frightening proclivities and an all-consuming hunger for power. She did a great job. I hated him. He is not misunderstood, he is a fu*ing monster. I didn’t want to read about Hart’s true love for Eleanor, or the story gymnastics Ashley performed to make him bearable because it just wasn’t possible. I simply jumped through the book to visit the brothers and was glad when it ended.

Books are still being added to series. You will note that despite my protestations, I have read them all and a summary of Jennifer Ashley’s catalogue can be found here. Links to my other reviews can be found on my complete reading list of books sorted by author or Author Commentary & The Tallies Shameful.

The Pennyroyal Green Series: A Notorious Countess Confesses by Julie Anne Long

I’ve started on reviews of many random novels and revisited the basic, and, I discovered, quite outdated romance tropes introduction from my first entry. But let’s be honest, I only wrote it because I was embarrassed about reading historical romance novels genre fiction, and wanted to be wry and self-basting. It’s one hundred and twenty books later and I know the current constructs, character types, and that the consummation devoutly to be wished occurs around page 200. I can explain which authors write the best love scenes and that the books range from fade-to-black to thisclosetoerotica. (Wikipedia tells me the when it is thisclosetoerotica, they call it “romantica” which sounds like an android sex worker who, for 5 dollars more, will tell you that she loves you.) None of this matters. What I like and don’t like in regard to the love scenes is of interest only to me, Mr. Julien, and the version of Daniel Craig that lives in my id. It would tell you more about my tastes and proclivities than about the genre; however, if YOU want to read this kind of book, I recommend not only reading the first couple of pages as you would any book, but also flipping forward to about page 200 when they get busy. Running into an off-putting love scene can derail the entire reading experience, so you should get a preview first. I once looked at a book by a major romance author and found the phrase “and sucking, and sucking, and sucking, and sucking”. That’s right, four “and suckings”. An apt description of the writing, as well.

Julie Anne Long’s A Notorious Countess Confesses continues her Pennyroyal Green series focused on the Redmond and Eversea families. In my review of What I Did for a Duke, I congratulated Long on pulling off a huge age difference. Her challenge this time is the character Malin and I enjoy referring to as “the hot vicar”. He is indeed very hot: tall, literally and metaphorically broad-shouldered, hard-working, sincere. The novel setting is Regency (God, I hate the clothing), so it was church or military, and Adam Sylvaine ended up with a family living from his Eversea uncle. It means he need not have been chaste nor uptight, but simply a good man who ended up in an available profession, and one he turned out to be very well suited for*. The heroine is the Countess of the title, Evie. I did not realise until quite far into the book that the main characters were Adam and Eve. It is mostly forgivable and also indicative of Long’s tendency towards the quietly twee.

Evie supported her brothers and sisters by working as an actress, then a courtesan, although “there were only two”, and lastly she married an Earl who won the right to wed her in a poker game. When the story begins, she has just come out of mourning for the Earl and moved to the house he bequeathed to her in Pennyroyal Green. She has a scandalous reputation, just enough money, and a desire to start again. She falls for the hot vicar because, while he is drawn to her, he is so self-possessed and at ease with himself that he is immune to her attempts to charm him, and to the facades she wears as self-protection. He is a good man, albeit a preternaturally attractive and charming one, but this is romance fiction after all. Adam takes Evie under his wing to help her join local society and find friends. The local women are alternately horrified and deliciously shocked by her. Evie is able to build a new life and Adam is given a safe haven from the constant demands and burdens of being the (hot) vicar.

Despite the fact that I prefer more sardonic rake in my heroes, I LOVED 90% of this book and Julie Anne Long is on my auto-buy list. She always manages to balance fantastic sexual tension, sincere characters, and be funny. She is so good at the tension that the most intense scene in the book involves Adam kissing Evie on her shoulder. There were flames shooting off my Kindle. Long also pulls off a very clever running joke about embroidered pillows that crescendos with dueling Bible verses about licentiousness. So what went wrong with that last 10%? I overlooked the patronizing attitude towards the harried mother, and the whole boots and breeches impossibility, but the ending was TWEE AS FU*K. It started out swooningly-romantic and then kind of fell apart for me. Her last novel, How the Marquess Was Won, (she needs to fire whomever approves these titles) suffered the same fate: Fantastic romance undermined by trite plotting choices. Right up to that point though, it was wonderful, and head and shoulders above the “and suckings” of the genre.

A complete summary of Julie Anne Long’s catalogue, with recommendations, can be found here.

Links to my other reviews can be found on my complete reading list of books sorted by author or Author Commentary & The Tallies Shameful which includes the aforementioned observations.

*Given that Julie Anne Long usually has a couple of enjoyably detailed love scenes, part of me secretly hopes that some naive fool looking for “Christian romance” bought this because it was about a (hot) vicar, had her hair blown straight back, and will follow up with a horrified one star review on Amazon.

The Dressmakers Series: Silk Is for Seduction by Loretta Chase

I signed up for a quarter Cannonball (13 books) with my online community, but I’ve completed it and I’m working on my half Cannonball (speaking of cannonballs, my behind is one), and, not wanting to let the 79 works I’ve read in this genre since February go to waste, I now return to Loretta Chase, who, while not my favourite romance novelist, is extremely reliable and entertaining. I’ve chosen Silk Is for Seduction because it’s about romance and fashion, specifically 1830s clothing which is particularly ridiculous. Look at what the fashionable wore under their clothing, and keep in mind that a shift, drawers, and more petticoats would be added, and that those things on her shoulders would be like wearing down pillows –

Once fully dressed, she might look like this:

Isn’t the thumbnail hideous? I dare you to click on it.

Have you stopped laughing yet?

Now, you would not know it to look at me, but I really like fashion, past and present. My interest in period clothing has led to the purchase of coffee table books, museum visits, and hours of trawling the internet for drawings, extant clothing, recreations (huge subculture), and I have a lovely memory of cooing through drawers of lace samples at the Victoria and Albert museum with the Dowager Julien. These efforts have resulted in a reasonably decent overview of 19th century dress styles by decade. My favourite era is the 1870s, famous for its bustles. Can you blame me? I mean, Sweet Fancy Moses, I nigh on swoon when I look at this kind of dress –

How could I not? It is all that is beautiful and good. So beautiful and good, that when it came to my wedding dress, I unconsciously chose this kind of style even though I hadn’t started learning about specific eras yet. To wit –

I know, I know the overskirt is too long! It mocks me in the photos. That is not a bustle, by the way, it is the aforementioned cannonball. These days, it’s an entire armory.

Loretta Chase’s Dressmakers Series features the three Noirot sisters who work as modistes. In contemporary language they would be couturiers, but since Frederick Worth hasn’t quite blazed his trail yet that term is not used. Marcelline, the oldest and the designer, is featured in the first book, Silk Is for Seduction; Sophy, the saleswoman, is featured in book two, Scandal Wears Satin; and Leonie, the money manager, will be the heroine of the third book, as yet unnamed, but let’s go with Velvet Is for Viscounts. They are “in trade”, but come from a shady upper class background. Their work requires them to rub shoulders and cultivate relationships with the aristocracy and wealthy gentry. They seek a young, beautiful aristocrat to dress and enhance their reputation and set their sights on Lady Clara Longmore who is the almost fiancée of the Duke of Clevedon. (His first name is given as Gervase, but in keeping with the era, he is referred to as anything other than “Clevedon” only once). Marcelline approaches His Grace in hopes of winning his lady’s patronage for her shop. From there, it all goes as one would expect from the genre. Poor Lady Clara, there are two books published so far and she gets a fuzzy lollipop in both. I hope Chase takes proper care of her in the next book.

The women’s clothing is an important element in historical romance novels. The men’s clothingalways skirts around any effeteness that would be consistent with the era and is plain and elegant. With main characters who are dressmakers, Chase spends a great deal more time than usual describing and talking about clothing. She either did a lot of research or is very good at making up words. Of particular enjoyment in both Marcelline and Sophy’s books is the acknowledgement of the extremely complicated nature of a woman’s toilette. Some romance authors simply ignore these details and with a quick pull of a few buttons the heroine is fully disrobed. Julia Quinn, who writes charming, funny, and mostly chaste novels, often has the heroine wearing ONLY the dress and it annoys me every time the hero unfastens a row of buttons and BOOM! she’s naked. I wear more cannonball management layers than that and it’s 2012. Any 19th century man trying to get to the good stuff would have to get through gloves, the dress, layers of petticoats, maybe crinolines, corset, drawers, shift, shoes, garters and hose, and possibly the “sleeve plumpers” seen above, plus any outerwear, bonnet or head covering, not to mention a potential Gordian knot of a coiffure (H/T Courtney Milan). These layers could have hooks, pins, myriad buttons, and/or lacings. It was like penetrating an Eastern Bloc bureaucracy to get all the way to the woman herself. Loretta Chase includes all these details and plays them for laughs and practicality. As fashion purveyors, the Noirot sisters’ clothing is especially complicated. Marcelline actually stops Clevedon from trying to undress her at one point because they simply don’t have time. Still, these are romance novels, so the men are very experienced and at some point the heroine can’t help but notice how adept he is with her assorted fastenings and adjustments.

Loretta Chase is one of the big names in romance for good reason. Lovely banter. Good at the smolder. Her Lord of Scoundrels is considered a classic of the genre and I’ve been working my way through her collection as my favourite writer, Lisa Kleypas, has moved on to writing exclusively hardcover contemporary romance. (It’s more profitable.) I will read “Velvet Is for Viscounts” when it comes out and until then I have books I return to again and again to re-read the “good bits” which sometimes means exactly what you think it does, and also really does not mean that at all.

Other reviews can be found on my list of books by author or The (Shameful) Tally 2014 which includes recommendations and author commentary.

Thank you Malin for recommending this book.

The Pennyroyal Green Series: What I Did for a Duke by Julie Anne Long

I’m still reading historical romance novels and I keep a list of them as though tracking such things makes it any less ignoble. I call it The Shameful Tally. I also track the heroes’ names (Alex and Sebastian being the most popular), and the books so awful that I gave up on them.

What I Did for a Duke is from Julie Anne Long’s “Pennyroyal Green” series about the Redmond and Eversea families. She has set herself up quite nicely for a large group of interconnected novels as is a standard practice in this genre. It gives the reader a chance to revisit their favourite characters and is something I particularly like; so much so that I must confess, I have even bought a book only because I knew I’d get to see “Sebastian and Evie” (Lisa Kleypas The Devil in Winter) again. I adore them. I will buy any book they are in. Publishers are smart and I am easily led. From this Julie Anne Long series, I’ve also read How the Marquess Was Won. That book was so good, so good, oh Sweet Fancy Moses that is romantic, wait, is this high school?, oh, now, it’s all fallen apart, RATS! By the way, if you think these titles are bad, Long has a book called I Kissed an Earl that is waiting for me on my Kindle. As if the cover art weren’t embarrassing enough, these titles add insult to ignominy.

I’ve sampled about 2 dozen writers and you’ve got to give a writer credit where it is due: If you can pull off an almost 20 year age difference and make it not only palatable but irrelevant, you are on the right track. What I Did for a Duke pairs 20 year old Genevieve Eversea with “almost forty” (a phrase often and lovingly repeated) Alex Moncrieffe, Duke of Falconbridge. He is a widower out for revenge against Genevieve’s brother, Ian, for attempting to bed the Duke’s fiancée. Over the course of a house party, Alex sets out to seduce and leave Genevieve, but, pleasantly enough, the revenge plot is called off when this young woman figures it out, and is far lovelier and more attractive than Alex had anticipated. She’s bright and banters well. He’s charming and kind of autocratic. Tra la la. They get married. YAY!

There is nothing new here which is good because I am not looking for anything new, just fresh. It’s nice to see a standard revenge plot dismantled, but the real reason that this book works is simple: Julie Anne Long is very funny and she writes great smolder. That’s all it takes really; in fact, if you can pull off the funny, you don’t necessarily need the smolder, and, yes, she is that funny. [There was more here, but I’ve redacted the original pointlessly scathing review details.]

Edited April 17, 2013: I now consider Julie Anne Long one of the best romance writers currently publishing. Lisa Kleypas really skewed the curve for a while there when I was starting out with this phase. I bought this book as well as almost everything else Long has published, and she is on my autobuy list.

Edited October 1, 2013: What a bitchy review. So bitchy, this is the second time I have edited something that only I will see. What I Did for a Duke is a CLASSIC and I couldn’t see it at the time. The hero, Alex, is in the pantheon of great heroes. There are some issues with the structure, but the fact  is that in addition to the overall charm, humour, and delicious smolder, there is a two or three chapter section in the middle of the book that is simply magnificent. It features the hero and heroine having the kind of conversation that people falling in love have. The dialogue is honest and beautifully written, but what truly elevates it is the silences. There are long pauses during which the characters think and the reader follows their emotions to their conclusion. It’s just superlative and because it, and the rest of the book, are true to the emotional lives of the characters, Long accomplishes what every romance writer sets out to do.

A complete summary of Julie Anne Long’s catalogue, with recommendations, can be found here. Links to my other reviews can be found on my complete reading list of books sorted by author or Author Commentary & The Tallies Shameful.

Tempt Me at Twilight by Lisa Kleypas

The Dowager Julien likes to read Georgette Heyer books upon occasion, and I recently pointed out to her that doing so did not mean she lost all intellectual credibility: Just because you enjoy kissing books does not mean that you forget what The Anschluss was, or have to go back to the remedial class; however, IF IT DID, I am now so knee deep in historical romance novels that my university degree would be revoked. “My name’s Prolixity and I used to want to write a Master’s thesis on e.e. cummings and the Metaphysical poets, but now I read books with characters named Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent”.

I listed the books I’ve read so far before, but I forgot a couple. There have been rather a lot.

Come Love a Stranger – Kathleen Woodiwiss – Reformed Rake: VERY attractive reformed rake, a lot of pages of subterfuge and silliness to skip over.
The Duchess – Jude Deveraux – I skimmed this one. Deveraux is a Deverdon’t.

Really? Are you still reading after that terrible joke? I am unworthy of such beneficence.

Since last week, I have read:

The Devil in Winter – Lisa Kleypas – Reformed Rake, Self-Sacrificing Lamb – I read it Friday night. My first Kleypas, but not my last, not even my last this past weekend.
The Viscount Who Loved Me – Julia Quinn – Reformed Rake AND Bridgerton Brother #1 (Anthony) – I read it yesterday. The Bridgerton books make me giggle and smirk. A lot. Occasionally, I hoot. I am expecting to receive The Duke and I by Julia Quinn in the mail today – Reformed Rake and Bridgerton Sister #1/sibling #4 (Daphne).

I went to K-Mart and purchased Lisa Kleypas’ Tempt Me at Twilight on Saturday morning. I went specifically to buy this book. I had seen it a couple of days before, but did not like the random passage I read. Later, I was reading different random passages on Amazon and came across a paragraph so appealing that I wanted the whole book. Now, go back and look at that title. Just look at it. Could it be any cheesier? Let me answer that for you: No, it could not. Mercifully, the book does not also have a salacious cover, but it does have a ridiculous frontispiece involving soap opera people posing in pseudo-19th century dishabille and, as is always the case in these books, bearing absolutely no physical resemblance to the characters. I ripped that sucker out of the book as fast as possible. The title is embarrassing enough; I don’t need to give Mr. Julien any more ammunition than necessary.

Tempt Me at Twilight is the story of Harry Rutledge and Poppy Hathaway. She is the rich daughter of an eccentric family, but, then, aren’t we all? Poppy has been “out” in society for three years and has not found a husband despite being beautiful and well-educated. Her problem, it seems, is an unconventional family, and her inability to dissemble about her education and intelligence. I like this Lisa Kleypas person already. Harry is the American owner of a London hotel that hosts families of the ton during the London season as they look for a mate they, hopefully, feel a sincere tendre for. If you have read any Regency romance novels, all of those words will make sense to you. Furthering my appreciation for Ms. Kleypas, Harry is tall, dark, handsome, and slightly forbidding. All excellent qualities. When the men are fair-haired, I stick my fingers in my eyes and sing “la, la, la I can’t hear you”, and then I scream and hit myself in castigation… Harry is also brilliant and a self-made man which adds a nice touch. Poppy and Harry meet cute and he sees in her everything good and wonderful in the world, so he ruins her reputation (in a chaste 19th century way) to make sure they end up married, but not really together, after which highly-predictable hijinks ensue. Being a Reformed Rake and having the usual “loveless child” back story, it takes him a while, practically the whole book, amazingly enough, to be able to voice his love for her, although he is clearly besotted which he shows in nice (gentleness, love, patience) and not so nice (jealousy, being overbearing) ways. I do so adore smoldering, besotted rakes. As is often the case, and not my taste, there was some silly sub-plotting, but I guess some people enjoy a bit of intrigue in their romance novels. I’m basically ONLY about the man/woman stuff, so if they’re not interacting, I’m not interested. That’s what skipping pages is for. I do that with whatever romance novel I’m reading.

Lisa Kleypas’ writing is very good for the genre. She doesn’t have the wit of Julia Quinn, but that is not a bad thing, only different. Kleypas is a bit racier, so it’s really just a question of what you are looking for. I cared about the characters, I loved Poppy, and wanted a Harry Rutledge of my own, and I think that is all that matters. Sometimes you want to giggle and beam (Quinn), and sometimes you want a charming, misguided, besotted rake, in which case Kleypas is a good choice.

Addenda:

Prolixity really is an apt pseudonym, isn’t it? I spend almost as long writing these reviews as I do reading the books.

These women spend a lot of time with their hair down. It’s not the historical inaccuracy I object to. It’s the fact that their hair is very long and it never gets caught under anyone or in the way. My hair goes about a 1/4 to a 1/3 of the way down my back and it’s forever getting caught under things, usually other parts of me.

One of the leads, usually the man, always has a Sardonic Eyebrow of Seduction which they lift as a wry gesture. I would love to be able to do that! Wry is one of my favourite things in the whole wide world. It’s why William Powell is my secret husband. The Dowager Julien has a Baleful Eyebrow of Doom that was deployed almost exclusively as a threat when we were young. Sadly, I did not inherit her skill.

Thank you to everyone who made recommendations. Loretta Chase is next in line.

A complete summary of Lisa Kleypas’s catalogue, with recommendations, can be found here.

Links to my other reviews can be found on my complete reading list of books sorted by author or Author Commentary & The Tallies Shameful.