Review: The Best Of Archie Comics by Various

I'm going to suggest this one as a stocking stuffer. If you're American, you're already very familiar with Archie and his eternal triangle of Betty and Veronica. If you're not, consider Archie our TinTin. (Yes, yours is better, I know.) Generations of American kids have grown up reading Archie and he has reflected a fairly conservative view of American culture back at them. From Josie and the Pussycats to Sabrina the Witch, Archie has introduced a number of long lived franchises. (Right down to the novelty single.)

Coming in at $10 USD this paperback is a great introduction for a tween reader or a trip down memory lane for an older one. While the curation of the volume is excellent, everyone who reads it will feel something was left out. (I'm a Jughead fan, myself.) From showing the limitations of the early gags (how many times can Archie give Veronica poison ivy?) to the weird soapy feel of it's current titles (Our abusive boyfriend Moose in anger management?) this paperback offers something for almost anyone on a gift list. Too often these retrospectives come as highly expensive hardcovers with their own slipcased and number collectibility conceit. The Best of Archie Comics is a thick pulp paperback perfect for folding in half under your bed. (Maybe I'd be rich if I'd carefully preserved all the Pep Comics I acquired in my youth. Instead I read them to shreds. I think Archie would want it that way.)

Review: The Real Duchesses of London by Lavina Kent Revisited

 I rather wish there had only been two volumes of the Real Duchesses series. Initially, it seemed like a fun and fresh concept, the added aspect of female friendships made the novellas seem deeper than they were. While Annabelle, The American is not a bad story the hero is fatally flawed. The sustaining aspect of female friendship is given little to work with as the girls barely know Annabelle and her close friends reside in America. The revelation of the catalyst for events falls flat as well. Carrying on with the Kink of The Week theme established in the earlier books, we discover Annabelle might have some Naughty Schoolteacher in her soul. (File that under things I didn't care to know.)

Before I spoil the ever loving heck out of Annabelle, I'll take a quick pass at Elizabeth, The Enchantress. For me, the cool and collected Elizabeth has been a star of the series. Her ability to stay composed in the face of scandal has it's roots in her own scandal ridden past, a scandal level that seems fairly extreme. One wonders where her husband's heir was as she took the reins of his estate in her 19 year old hands. Removed from the reach of her comically uncaring uncle,  her husband off to parts unknown within days, Elizabeth masters her own destiny? I suppose. There's no KoTW here, unless you count a sex toy that makes a brief and somewhat anticlimactic (sorry) appearance. Elizabeth and Linnette (you may recall her as The Lioness) are forced to make nice, the women gather around in a show of solidarity, but the true bonds of female friendship are weaker yet. Perhaps the overriding theme of this series hasn't been KoTW, but rather Women Who Just Wanted To Be Wanted. For all her strength of character, Elizabeth folds like a house of cards when her husband shows up.

Annabelle takes the revelation of her husband's secret family as her cue to get busy with the sexxing. Sure she's sad and all, but how can they move past whatever it is unless they keep the lines of communication open (the same lines that never revealed he might be keeping two households)? Here we're going to go into spoiler land because Annabelle, The American has the same unrecoverable flaw that Elizabeth Boyle's Lord Langley does. This guy is an absolutely terrible father. An unredeemable creep of a father. He's not just a deadbeat dad, he's a deserter who moans that he couldn't stay gone. Why would I want rich beautiful caring Annabelle to end up with him? Do the only kids that count belong to the heroine? Is this some sort of postmodern second wife syndrome hero we're seeing these days? Remember when a hero collected all their bastards from the countryside and insisted on fathering them? Remember when they were careful not to be a baby daddy at all? How is parental desertion suddenly acceptable? I don't get this. The set up for Annabelle's man is that he knocked up a women below his class but he super extra loved her. Reader, He Married Her. These are legitimate kids. So his dad gets mad. Rather than man up and tell the Duke that he has a wife with a pair of kids, thank you very much (Actually, only one is legit. He married her between kids.) he allows himself to be sent off to some estate to do something.

When he returns, he has a young daughter and an infant daughter and a dead wife. His dad, the aforementioned Duke, tells him to keep his yap shut or the kids go to the workhouse. Again, his kids with his wife, who is dead because he left them behind. Like a coward. So does our hero snatch his kids up and take them to America? Does he tell his dad to stuff it and get a job from one of his society friends? No! He goes to America alone, where he plans on staying forever, and his dad agrees to educate the kids then places the older one as a governess. Right. So after raising her younger sister with her dad off living the life of a ducal second son in America (did he even appeal to his brother, the heir?) she (still towing her younger sister) enters into the workforce taking care of others children. Here she meets a boy and falls in love. He dies. Like her mom did. There's a baby (not hers) and she takes the care of it and her sister and moves forward with all the strength of character her father lacks. Meanwhile, he meets Annabelle and says "Hey baby, you're hot and rich and could have anyone. Let me tell you I don't love you so your self destructive side can come out to play." They marry and he plans to live in America for his whole life and raise fat happy babies. (Babies that count, I guess.) His brother dies, which makes him the heir, which brings him back to London where he still doesn't tell his wife about his first marriage or his children. Now he's all woe is me, I love my kids, I married you to provide for them, sob sob sob, but it's a lot of Narcissistic Personality Disorder and very little Actual Good Father. Suddenly his dad is all "Yea, when I found out at least one wasn't a bastard I kinda felt bad about this whole thing, but whatevs," Annabelle still doesn't meet her stepchildren, she's too busy consoling and sexxing up the massively entitled baby she married. At no point does she call him out on his child abandonment, despite being American. The guy is a complete creep. So's his dad. When his dad comes by with a halfhearted "Sorry I was a bitch and made your social life hell" Annabelle is all, that's ok. Let's start over! The woman has looks, money, and a family willing to take her back in her home country. What does she need these losers for?

And still I preferred Annabelle The American to Elizabeth, The Enchantress. While Annabelle's man is a weak willed loser, Elizabeth and hers were just deadly dull. I was forcing myself to click through the pages so I could say I did. In Elizabeth the identity of the other cartoonist is revealed. His motivation? "We don't know, he just always kind of hated us. It's weird." His fate? The proverbial plantation home in the Islands where he can be overlord of the non-white citizens around him. Yes, it is always so satisfying when a woman hating villain is given a home where he can prey on the less societally endowed women of the world. That solves everything. I clutched my pearls and cried tears of joy at his fitting comeuppance - a removal from society and all it's pleasures. I suppose my suggestion, after this excessively long opinion piece, would be as follows. Buy Linette The Lioness. Consider Annabelle The American if you have a high tolerance for child desertion. Skip the other two.

Review: Second Grade On The Left by Darynda Jones

Darynda Jones is my new cracktastic author of choice.

Like I've said before, the Charley Davidson series has some logistical issues but it's hard to nit pick when the delivery is so delicious. If there isn't such a thing as Paranormal Noir, then Darynda Jones is busily inventing it. Smart and smart of mouth Charley is the perfect private detective for complicated cases filled with shadowy figures. Nicely balancing her superhuman skills are all too human family issues that blindside Charley when she least expects it. Even the Grim Reaper needs a hug sometimes.

Jones is also adeptly delivering a demon saga that even a Christian could love. (I got a little nervous when the Jehovah Witnesses showed up, but Jones pulled just short of mocking them. Well, more than Charley mocks anyone.) In this chapter Charley is searching for her missing boyfriend (the actual Son of Satan), a missing person (possibly connected to a major murder) and a decent night's sleep (not anytime soon). Jones keeps the revelations in each story coming fast enough to keep the reader guessing. Resolving enough to satisfy, but leaving a bit on the hook for the next book, she's mastered the compulsive read.

Many paranormal books want to be Buffy The Vampire Slayer. With the Charley Davidson series Jones has captured the essence of that show's appeal without copying any of it's details. Keeping her read hot but not making it explicit, she aims for a wide range of readers. I'm not sure what HBO* is going to do with Charley, since she's a serial flirt but a one demon girl. In fact, I'm still not entirely sure that Charley ends up with Reyes. While he maintains he's a bad boy going good, Charley is too strong and self reliant to offer herself up to the wrong side. He's going to have to work a little harder to convince her that he wants to side with the angels. (Then again, Charley hasn't met any angels. Ouch. I apologize. Spend some time with Charley Davidson and the bad jokes come naturally.)

Charley is officially my good time girl for the duration. She can take the Grim out of Reaper for as long as she wants.

*HBO has not optioned this series, but they should. True Blood wishes it was this fun.

Review: The Many Sins of Lord Cameron by Jennifer Ashley

People love this book. I get it.

I waited a few weeks to review The Many Sins of Lord Cameron because explaining my negative feelings about it requires spoiling some key plot elements. I should probably wait a bit longer (fans of the book will suggest forever) but I'm going to take the plunge. I'll tell you when we get to the spoilery bits. River Song is really... (no, I'm just kidding).

Right, so Dr. Who references aside, here is what I loved about The Many Sins of Lord Cameron. In Ainsley we have a very original heroine. She's doing the whole friend of the Queen thing, but she's doing it for money instead of love. Ainsley is the widow of a much older husband whom she both respected and slept with (is that a spoiler or just a shocker?) and now she runs sensitive errands for Queen Victoria. Ainsley is interesting. She's also a bit inconsistently drawn, but only a bit. If the whole book hung on my feelings about Ainsley we'd be sitting pretty right now. Cameron carries over well from his previous appearances. He's still treating women like Kleenex while haphazardly single parenting an overly precocious son. (Bonus points for the way said son tries to parent his father. That rings true and shows he's got some tightly packed baggage of his own.) So, consistent Cameron and appealing Ainsley should make a perfect evening, right? Here comes the plot revealing part of this. Meaning now. Duly warned!

It's Scottish Romance meets Telenovela. Cameron's dead wife wasn't just crazy. She was maniacal played by Jack Nicholson we'll sell you the whole seat but you only need the edge crazy. Cameron in an abusive relationship? Sure. His wife being manic, or bipolar, or suffering from postpartum depression? I'm right there with you. A completely unhinged sexually voracious suicidal murderess who sodomizes him with a poker? Um, make up your mind? Cameron is afraid to sleep with women because his wife repeatedly attacked him despite his attempts to confine her or protect himself. It's the repeatedly that gets you. Sure, she shoved a poker up my ass, maybe even a few times, but that's no reason to lock her up away from the kid and me, is it? Sure, she's crazy as all hell and sleeps around when she's not lying to my face, but I have to keep her close just in case she's having my kid! My crazy dad was still alive, so my options were limited!  It's a bit much to ask of the reader. Yes, there are people that crazy and there are people that live with them, but I wasn't willing to believe it of this group.

Adding to that, you've got what borders on a bad case of Magical Romney. Why can't people just have met? Why does someone have to have saved someone's life? Why does one side of the equation have to be servile (yet appropriately disrespectful) to the other? Then you've got the mustache twirling bad guy who lives only for profit, unless that profit is made from a a Scottish purse, in which case he'd rather try to... I couldn't even follow it. There's this horse, right? And this crazy dude wants to race it so he bullies Cameron into training it. Horse doesn't win, guy ramps up the bullying, but Cameron is just training the horse because he likes it. Guy won't sell the horse because Cameron is Scottish. Guy wants the horse to win so he can sell it. Cameron says name your price and the guy refuses because, again, no doing business with a Scotsman that you're already doing business with. Guy isn't just mean to horses and a bad businessman, he's a bigot! Because no one in this book ever says "Eh, WTF, let's find something else to worry about." No, they have Epic And Unsolveable Problems.  Of course, it's Ainsley who makes the shocking realization that someone else could buy the horse. Someone who (wait for it) isn't Scottish! You can see why the Queen trusts her to deal with blackmailers and stuff.

Victoria is her own issue. Depending on the needs of the plot Ainsley is either entirely at her beck and call or able to freely leave her side. When the queen is utterly displeased with Ainsley and sends her away, Ainsley responds by making physical contact with the queen and speaking freely. You know, as you do with a boss you just totally pissed off. You give them a smooch and a few words of advice while they're firing your ass. (I don't think Ainsley is going to be eligible for rehire). I didn't hate The Many Sins of Lord Cameron, but I struggled to finish it. The flaws were not enough to put me off the series. I'll be back for the next chapter. I hope it's a bit calmer than this one. I'm an old(ish) woman. I can only take so much drama without a nice lie-down.

Review: The Ideal Man by Julie Garwood

Garwood's back.

(I don't know if you're going to be sorry or not. That's on you.)

I don't mean back like, "Julie Garwood has a new novel out." I mean back like "Oh wait, I really like Julie Garwood." Sometimes a favorite author hits a patch of books so not to my taste that I open them with a little sigh of resignation. It's like a friendship you can't quite end because the good times were so good and the bad times aren't that bad but the lunch date isn't something you're excited about. This isn't that book. This is the book that reminds you how much fun you can have together.

The Ideal Man is refreshing for what it isn't - there's no attempt here to reach outside of what Garwood does to reach a new audience. Julie Garwood is best at family relationships, character quirks, and books so ready to be Hallmark Hall of Fame films that they should come with a greeting card. Her books are a bowl of soup and a blankie on a miserable day. I read The Ideal Man after an intense surgery and it absolutely soothed me.

Possibly coincidence, possibly because the heroine of Sizzle was an absolute idiot, The Ideal Man features trauma surgeon Elle Sullivan as a child prodigy once driven from her home by an obsessed classmate. (You might scoff, but I jumped off the prodigy track and those kids are twisted.) Awesomely, that obsessed classmate has almost nothing at all to do with why Elle ends up needing protection from FBI Agent Max Daniels. Elle has a wonderfully self centered sister driven to say things like "Why can't you stop ruining my parties with people trying to kill you?" Every sibling of a romantic suspense heroine should be as free to express her emotions!

Max is actually protecting Elle because she witnessed a shooting and saved a life without even getting blood in her hair. Elle rings true both as an exhausted trauma surgeon and a distanced family member. Her parents work as frustrated working folks thrust outside their comfort zone by life's events. Her siblings are a bit trickier - but hey - I'd have problems if my parties kept bombing too. Max works both as an agent slightly outside his comfort zone and a man for whom family is foremost. Together they tell a smoothly entertaining tale for a late night read or a sunny snooze.