Review: It Happened One Midnight by Julie Anne Long

It Happened One Midnight would be far more enjoyable as a single title than as an entry in the Pennyroyal Green series. Eight books in I don't care at all about the missing Lyon or the weary Olivia. Every mention of either character detracts from the story. That's a shame because Lyon has an actual purpose this time out.

Jonathan Redmond is Lyon's less paternally satisfying sibling. After multiple disappointments Father Redmond is cracking down on Jonathan in an attempt to mold a child he can approve of. The shadow of Lyon's absence keeps him from seeing Jonathan clearly. Cue inevitable father and son clash. Enter Thomasina, (hereafter Tommy) our heroine.

Tommy is a woman with a mysterious background. (This review is long enough without exploring the holes in it.) She may or may not be a courtesan. She's searching for the security of marriage while keeping her eyes open for other revenue sources. Jonathan brings her into his start up as an investor. Of course Jonathan and Tommy find there is more to each other than they realized. (Duh.) There's a subplot about child labor but the main focus is on Tommy and Jonathan's banter.

Overall It Happened One Midnight is a satisfying romance of the light history variety. Characters are varied enough to provide interest and appear to have lives outside of the time spent in Tommy and Jonathan's orbit. While there are no real surprises neither are there serious offenses. Yet It Happened One Midnight became a rant read for me in it's closing pages. It's not about the numerous errors I understand the finished book contained.

HEREAFTER BE SPOILERS, YO!

If you believe that one of the purposes of genre fiction is to uphold or undermine cultural norms what are we to make of the choices here? Tommy is the bastard daughter of a Duke and the courtesan he allegedly loved. The Duke rejected Tommy at birth yet her mother raised her to revere him, going so far as to claim if she were ever in need The Dukester would step up and assist. (I'm not sure who is needier than an infant, but Tommy's mom isn't the first woman in history unable to accept he's really not going to pay child support.) Tommy goes on to have a horrific childhood complete with near death events. Still she believes, because the child inside her has nothing else.

While Long gives Jonathan the opportunity to confront and insult the Duke, she gives no such moment to Tommy. Tommy's father left her to die. When confronted by Jonathan he confirms his belief that working class children are expendable. Tommy's father is a completely reprehensible person. I felt no sympathy for Tommy's father. He knowingly works children to their death. He knowingly abandoned his own child not once but twice. Why should I (or Tommy) care for him?

Long treats Father Redmond differently. Tommy and Jonathan are both given opportunities to condemn his actions. Despite Redmond being a present and loving father in the past, his current pain is tearing apart his relationships. It is bizarre that he is given more condemnation than Tommy's absent father. Both Tommy and Jonathan threaten Redmond with his greatest fear - losing another child. At this point I expected Long to give Tommy's father an unlikely change of heart through his friendship with Redmond. It would have been unlikely and predictable but Long laid the groundwork for it.

Instead the book closes with Tommy and the Duke estranged. In the book's final pages Long has Tommy return a family keepsake to her father with an encouraging note. It is this encouraging note that moved It Happened One Midnight from the A minus to the Low Middle B grade on my reader report card. In having Tommy urge her father to "be brave" Long wants the reader to believe emotional cowardice is the root of his parental rejection. In doing so she places Tommy's life in a separate category from the other children the Duke would condemn. I don't think Long is making a class superiority comment so much as one of family solidarity. This incredibly toxic message is showing up in too many historical books this year. Our heroines are returning to abusive families and begging for emotional connections. This is not a happy ending, this is a recipe for disaster.

Review: The Duchess War by Courtney Milan

*My reviews of Courtney Milan books are so very boring. "I loved this book. OMG this author. Read it because wow." (How many ways could a fan girl fan if a fan girl could fan girls? I don't know. I'm high on Sudafed.) Anyway. Courtney Milan. New Book. Commence raving. 

The Duchess War is a thing of beauty. How you feel about it may depend on how you feel about other Milan books or what you look for in romance. I'm drawn to character studies. I want broken people feeling their way through a broken world, and Milan gets that. Her characters are not heroic by birth or destiny, they are heroic by choice. In The Duchess War we meet Robert and Minnie. Both are working through the legacy of their parents. I found Robert the more interesting of the two, but it's Minnie who is  the more powerful.

Robert is the image of a man he has defined as a monster. Being his father's son has shaped him more than any other aspect of his life. Robert's life of emotional rejection and economic privilege has led him to embrace radical political views. He is not an unthinking agitator. Robert has taken pains to minimize the effects of his work on those around him. His goal is to unravel the system he believes sheltered his father and allows men like him to escape retribution for their crimes. Everything about him is a reaction to something else. His intense loneliness is a reaction to his parent's rejection and his subsequent rejection of their values. It's a greater self awareness that makes Robert more socially enlightened than his peers. If his father had embraced him, Robert could well have been a carbon copy of his sire. Without a rejection of his father's values, Robert can't make sense of his place in the world. Because of his mother's inclination to extremism, Robert's life as a radical made sense. I believed he would become this person, that he was this person. He may have frustrated me at times, but he didn't ring false. Robert is emotionally guarded to the edge of self harm.

Minnie is no different. Where Robert has embraced radicalism as a rejection of his father, Minnie has embraced conservatism. Her views may mirror Robert's, but her life does not. Having experienced the darker side of fame, Minnie craves security. Economically and emotionally, Minnie is in a precarious situation she knows she cannot sustain. When she meets Robert she's on the edge of a life changing move, one that she believes will lock down the secure box she's created for herself. Robert doesn't undertake any of the typical Hero Knows Best actions of the genre. He is the catalyst that causes Minnie to really look at the path she's forced herself down and consider if it ends in the victory or ruin. Strategy is a theme that runs through The Duchess War. Both Robert and Minnie lead carefully considered lives, perhaps too considered for their own benefit. I found them completely believable as a couple. The difference in social station and reveal of Minnie's past was also smoothly resolved in a way that felt plausible and true. The only off note may have been a scene between Robert and one of his father's victims. (While it granted Robert an understanding he needed, it felt incomplete. The topic was larger than the scene, but may be revisited later.)

I put Courtney Milan in the top ten, perhaps top five, of writers working in the genre today. She's on the front edge of hot trends (bad sex, virgin hero, Victorian social change) while working with time tested romance elements (family relationships, strength in partnership, issues of honor). It's too soon to say where The Duchess War will rank in her entire body of work but if it's not near the top I can't wait to read what beats it.

Review: The Man With The Money by Lynn Raye Harris

* As I write, Amazon is selling this in MMP for $1.58 or in Kindle for $3.44. Keep telling me about the cheaper e-books, Grandma. I love that story.

Lynn Raye Harris won a random purchase from me with a little game I like to call Author Making A Rational Comment About Reviews. (I always expect a lot of entrants, but generally it's just one or two.) I went for The Man With The Money for it's Katrina afflicted heroine. Cara has a pretty complicated background. In fact, I found her background far more interesting than Jack's, which was a shame because Jack was the focus of the book.

As a former fan of the Stratemeyer Syndicate, made to order writing is familiar to me. Here Harris seems to be working under an odd set of restrictions. Jack is the obscenely wealthy head of an overly successful (generational money?) family haunted by violent dysfunction. He's furiously angry at his older brother for deserting the family and furiously angry with himself for not doing the same. I felt like Harris didn't care for Jack much, nor could she reveal enough of his life to make him work as a tortured hero. Having to save so much of his back story and current motivation for other authors hindered the story's development. Luckily, Cara picked up some of the slack.

Cara is working at a casino in Europe when an altercation with her boss forces her to flee. On the run with Jack, Cara finds herself trapped. (Well, not really. As she finally tells him she could easily go to the American Embassy. As well, running away with Jack isn't going to do her much good outside of the immediate circumstance since her boss is fully aware of her identity and family situations.) Taking advantage of a holiday from the obligations of both their lives, Cara and Jack turn danger into destination travel. Cara is used to paying her own way. Jack is the typical throw money at it Harlequin hero. He offers her the payday of a lifetime to accompany him to his brother's wedding. Soon we're in comfortable territory as the Pretty Woman story plays out in it's normal pattern.

On the copyright Harlequin thanks Harris for her contributions to the story and I had to agree. Cara often seems to be fighting the box she's been placed inside. I felt like there was an interesting long form contemporary heroine trying to get out. (Something along the lines of Sugar Daddy by Lisa Kleypas.) The Man With The Money was a pleasant read, if not a compelling one. (The only real issue I had with it  occurs toward the end. Cara didn't strike me as a women who would keep Bobby Gold in her life, no matter what the power dynamic became.) The Man with The Money had moments of freshness in a familiar frame. I'd like to try something from Lynn Raye Harris that is completely her own invention.

Review: Seduced By A Pirate by Eloisa James

* Note, this may have been the short included in the print version of The Ugly Duchess. I'm so annoyed by the prospect of buyers getting even less value in an ebook that I can't be bothered to ascertain exactly which title they tossed in the MMP. Either way, it's now for sale as a short.

Eloisa and I are breaking up. I probably have one or two books left in me, but the writing on the wall seems pretty clear now. Everything I disliked about The Ugly Duchess is magnified in Seduced By A Pirate. (More than a sister story, Seduced By A Pirate could almost be a synopsis.) Where Sir Griffin Barry was a thug for most of The Ugly Duchess, here he was always a pirate with a heart of gold. Pity the poor press ganged boy who sees no way out but to rebel against his moral father by embracing immorality.

Let's pause for a second. Griffin is a 17 year old member of the landed gentry (Or is it nobility? Griffin seems to have gotten a title upgrade.) when he is taken by a press gang. Right. Assuming Griffin keeps silent about his identity, he then becomes a pirate because his dad spent too much time at work. Griffin doesn't want to be a servant of the people, he wants to rape, rob and pillage. (If you only read the short, you'll think Griffin was freeing slave ships and changing lives his whole career. Not so much.) We will give James her Hollywood Pirate and move on.

Griffin returns home with a full pardon and a wife he married through parental arrangement. His wife has spent the last 14 years denying her sexuality, so she's a virgin. (Hermetically Sealed Heroine alert!) When Griffin returns she sensibly explains to him that she's economically sound and interested in dissolving their marriage. She's failed to do so over the last decade and a half under the assumption that he'd get himself killed and there'd be no need to bother. Griffin says he'd rather get laid and five sentences later she's up for that too. Seriously. "I want a divorce. / I want you. / Ok, then." Apparently one look at Griffin's super muscled pirate build is all she needs to go from frigid to frothing. Phoebe (whose name he doesn't even know) instantly switches to concerns that she's not enough for her recently returned spouse. Will he desire her? Is she still pretty? Can they do it on the floor right by the front door as soon as he gets home?

By the end of the day they're pledging their love for each other. Approximately 10 hours from "Who are you?" to devoted beloved. (It takes Insta-love to new levels.) Along the way Griffin finds out he actually likes his dad and his dad arranges for him to become a judge, or a magistrate or some sort of thing. Because when your son has been a pirate for 14 years with nary a letter home of course your first thought is handing him a gavel. Wait, did I forget to mention his sisters? Yes, Griffin also has sisters that he has ignored. He tells himself that sending his pirate money home was buying their freedom from the sort of arranged marriage he suffered. I'm sure, given a few more pages, they'd have been just as forgiving as Phoebe and Griffin's dad. It's that kind of tale.

Closing out this short novella are not one but two epilogues, each with a baby nicely tucked inside. So you get a baby. And YOU get a baby. And Griffin gets his virgin wife. Let the HEA'ers abound.

Review: A Royal Pain by Megan Mulry

I'm going to classify this one as ChickLit rather than Contemporary Romance. While there is a relationship at the heart of it,  A Royal Pain is more Bronte's story than a story of Bronte and Max. Bronte was an interesting contradiction. She sees herself as rejecting elitism for popular culture. In fact, Bronte is more elitist then those against whom she rebelled. She works in an office where the boss either sends you home when you feel emotional or pops open a bottle of booze to soothe the afternoon away. She goes to parties where she meets the 10% (if not the 1%) and spends her free time studying Hello!. Bronte is already leading a life the average Contemporary Romance heroine aspires to.  A Royal Pain is the story of how Bronte learns to chill out and enjoy herself.

Max is a different story. He shows up where he's supposed to and does the things expected of him. He's not too good to be true, but he is too compliant to be understood. Where Bronte is a ball of disjointed emotion, Max is a calm and steady force forward. As a couple, the dynamic works. As a reader, I never understood why Max chose Bronte in particular. He goes all in on Bronte effectively at first sight. In the past it has been Bronte committing the sin of planning the wedding before dessert arrives, here it is Max doing so. He is sure Bronte is the woman for the rest of his life based on very little real world experience.  Bronte consistently lets Max down emotionally, yet he maintains his surety that she is his correct partner. I can understand Max wanting someone open, someone professionally successful but emotionally chaotic. I had trouble with him accepting Bronte in particular. "She's fun" isn't a great HEA recipe.

Bronte and Max both have parent issues. I would have liked to see Max's explored a bit more and Bronte's a bit less. (ok, Bronte's a LOT less.)  Neither family presents a real challenge to their union, most of the issues between Bronte and Max arise from Bronte's erratic choices and Max's inability to communicate. I liked Bronte on her own more than I liked her with Max. Their relationship seemed less like a completion of Bronte than another achievement in her portfolio. If I'd understood why Max was so invested or if Bronte had made more than token efforts on their relationship it would have worked more for me. Overall, A Royal Pain is a fun read and absolutely worth picking up.

Review: The Way To A Duke's Heart by Caroline Linden

Yea, go ahead and buy it.

I love almost everything about this book. I like everything on the cover from the color balance to the "Bitch, please" stare of the heroine. Linden finishes her The Truth About The Duke series with the best of the three. (I admit I had my concerns about this one.) Having reviewed both the prior books I decided to finish the series out. I'm so glad I stuck with Linden. In fact, I liked The Way To A Duke's Heart so much I think you should go ahead and start there. Nothing really happens in the prior books that is vital to the third. Look, I'll get you ready. There's this Duke In Waiting named Charlie. He's got two brothers and an inheritance issue. His brothers have tried to help but both of them wised up and dumped the ball back where it belongs. Charlie has had enough time to feel sorry for himself and work on his Daddy Issues. It's crunch time. (That's it. You're good to go.)

Our heroine is an awkward businesswoman on a mission. With her brother considering investment in the latest canal scheme Tessa is off to investigate the legitimacy of this enterprise. Trusted by her family, unable to trust those outside it, Tessa doesn't want to suck up to a charmer in the hotel lobby. Since Tessa might hold the key to Charlie's dilemma, he charms her elderly companion instead. Tessa says ok, whatever, that's cool. I've got books to audit and swamps to slog. You do you, Charlie. I'm busy doing me. Which she does. Sadly for Tessa, Charlie is trying to do her too. (But not that way.) He pretends an interest in the canal investment as a pretext for investigating Tessa's involvement in his dilemma. Continuing Linden's tradition of bucking some time honored Regency conventions it turns out that Tessa is a completely disinterested bystander. She has nothing at all to do with the mysterious blackmailer that's been mucking up Charlie's life. Nor is she willing to be a diversion while Charlie evades his responsibilities.

The evolution of Charlie from sulky party boy to Duke Of Tessa's Dreams is very well done. Both characters know who they are and (more importantly) why they are. Tessa and Charlie offer each other the same thing - someone to take them seriously and hold them accountable. Charlie respects Tessa's intelligence. As a man well aware of his own shortcomings he can easily see the strength in hers. For her part, Tessa has no experience of him. She sees a man well positioned to make changes in people's lives so she expects him to do so. While she guides him toward responsibility he leads her into frivolity. They are well suited to each other and to the plot. It's a nice balance Linden maintains for almost the whole of the book. My only complaint about The Way To A Duke's Heart arrives shortly after The Truth About The Duke is revealed. The truth itself is satisfying in content and execution. The events just following that are a failure for me. In exploring his past Charlie falls into one of my genre pet peeves. "If I had sex with you and you're not the hero / heroine, you completely suck." Yes, Charlie has a Crazy Bitch Ex in his past (as does Tessa) and the CBE briefly becomes the books focus. Handled just a little differently the CBE would have lifted the book from very good to possibly brilliant. As it stands the CBE bogs us down before being swept to the side as Tessa and Charlie get on with the getting on.

If you've been following the series or not, The Way To A Duke's Heart is a fun read. I like Linden's way with characterization. With this book the author moves off my TBR and onto my auto-buy list. (If nothing else, her strong voice knocked Charlie Sheen out of my mind for the entire read. I didn't think that was going to be possible.)

Review: The Ugly Duchess by Eloisa James

I suppose instantly forgettable isn't the best way to describe a book I plan to recommend. Here's the difficulty. I read The Ugly Duchess a week ago and had some fourth act problems with it. I decided to wait a few days before writing the review. In the interim I completely forgot what my problems were. I also forgot everything about the book itself. Scanning early reviews didn't trigger any recollections so I read the darn thing again. I still like it and I still have issues with the fourth act.

The Ugly Duchess is a forced marriage of deception tale. Theo is the sort of gawky and insecure young heroine romance loves. She's smart and ready to rebel. Her mother dresses her inappropriately, her guardian taps into her funds. In an effort to impress a young man she admires Theo reveals a caustic way with words. Of course this will (eventually) lead to her finding out the price of those words as she earns her own moniker (and the book gains it's title). Remember ladies, be nice or be silent.

Theo's bank account has been raided by her guardian, the father of our soon to be Duke, James. James must marry Theo to obscure his father's crime. As it happens, James and Theo are already in love yet unaware of it. I'll give Eloisa James that because the portrait of our hero and heroine as young teens is so pitch perfect. Everything is emotional. Everything is unforgivable. Everything is the most important thing to happen to anyone ever. They romp about like the puppies they are, reveling in their new freedom from their parents, eager to grab the reins of their lives. Everything will be different now. Of course, parents are not so easily dismissed. The reins of life can be hard to control. Soon the bubble bursts. Theo is left abandoned, alone but for her mother (she apparently had no friends but James) and her money. She sets herself to rebuilding his estates and repressing everything about herself that James loved. (It defies logic, but there it is.)

James falls in with pirates. At first it's just for the thrill of it but later (when he needs to make things right with Theo) he reveals his true calling was freeing slaves. Because of course it would be. Never mind that when he decides to embark on piracy it's nothing at all to do with slavery. Both Theo and James are afraid to face their true selves, afraid to demand their true lives because of the self inflicted shame they carry. A major theme of The Ugly Duchess is life after parents. Who are you without your parents to appreciate? Who are you without your parents to defy? Who are you when death removes the mirror you've viewed yourself in? For both James and Theo death has been a major force for personal reinvention. We rejoin James and Theo as a couple when seven years have passed. Theo is preparing for her new life as a legal widow. James has had a sudden revelation and returned. Instead of the warm and passionate woman he left, James finds a repressed woman who finds the idea of sex unpleasant.

Here we fall into the fourth quarter abyss. I feel as though Eloisa James loses interest in her books at the close. They either dip into the farcical or speed to the end. Here, when James and Theo reunite as different people with an ocean of life experience and pain between them, is where the story should begin. Here, with no desire for sex or children, with no true excuses for abandonment, in the ashes of their youth, is the meat of the tale. Except it isn't. Theo goes from frigid to fire with haste. It's a high school reunion. The star couple has an Appletini or six and shack up for the rest of the event. The love they had for each other as children is pasted onto the adults they became then used as an excuse to wipe away the intervening years. One moment a character doesn't ever want children, the next they adore babies. One moment the thought of sex inspires self contempt, the next it's bloomers in the bushes. Add to that a closing chapter with the requisite show of brute force in defense of Theo's honor (violence - so hot and manly) and it's like a hundred other books.  Which is a shame. The first 2/3 of The Ugly Duchess is wonderful enough to still make this a four star read for me.

Review: Yes Chef by Marcus Samuelsson

From the exceptional cover design to the last page, I loved almost everything about Yes, Chef. I loved it's honesty, I loved it's style, I loved the unique life it describes. Holding me back from outright glee were some minor construction problems and Samuelsson himself. He is such a complicated man. I have so much compassion for him yet his honesty also leads me to impatience. There is a myth that one can have everything in life. The thing about everything is that you can't have it all at once. In Samuelsson's case he has had the work ethic, the family support, the drive, the charisma, the intelligence - but he is an absolutely (spoiler alert!) horrible father. Yet his honesty makes him the most charming failure of parenting I've read about in a long time. At the same time he ignores his own child, Samuelsson mentors others. He has a strong desire to bring African Americans into the world of fine dining. He believes in diversifying the upcoming kitchen crews and showcasing Harlem as the convergence of color and culture it has always been. He is a a fascinating person to read about.

With all the honesty Samuelsson eloquently brings to his life story, he has a blind spot. This is a man who feels safest in the kitchen, who has a flight response to emotional damage. Samuelsson has emotions I don't think he's even labeled yet. For all he has overcome, there is much lying in wait for him. What to make of such a conflicted individual? While sponsoring scholarships for relatives in his native Ethiopia and working with the youth of Harlem, Samuelsson also abandons his only child. How will she read this book, as an adult? What will she make of his revelations? Inside is a portrait of a young man who was plucked from impossible odds to land in a safe and loving home. Fortunate enough to find a calling when his first dream died, he applied a single minded focus to achieving it. But this man who is so clear in the dynamics of a kitchen family is adrift in his own. His love for his child is clear, his conflict obvious. But both are presented in terms of himself, and only himself. He didn't want to be "that guy" who fathered an out of wedlock child, so he kept her a professional secret. His career had to come first, but if it had derailed (he claims) then he would have been present in her life. He paid his child support diligently (after his parents insisted) but never called, never wrote. He discussed her life with her mother, but not with her. There were no gifts. Until she was 14, her father was not accessible in any way. When she confronts him, he says he just didn't know how to find the words, how to make the time, what to do. So he didn't.  He is proud she has seen him as a success, proud he was able to introduce her to Kanye West, ready to take responsibility now and face her anger because he prides himself on being able to take the heat. The heat is over. His daughter is a young woman. At the end of the book he lists all of the things he has to be thankful for. It's a list both personal and professional. It's not brief. It doesn't contain his child.*

In the first 2/3 of the book Samuelsson's story is linear and focused. He knows who he was and why he made the moves he did. He talks with love and insight about his family and himself. In the last 1/3 of the book Samuelsson founders. His unresolved emotional conflicts are exposed. The book jumps about in time and becomes less concise. While powerful, it is obvious that these are parts of his life that are in progress, still being weighed and cataloged. Unable to ask if his own parents abandoned him, unable to face what abandoning his daughter really meant, Samuelsson leaves a document of explanation for her if she is able to see it. When his birth mother was dying she used the last of her strength to seek medical attention for her children. His father was in parts unknown. A man can be great without being famous. A man can be great without being perfect. Marcus Samuelsson is a great man who has (and will) impact many lives in positive and meaningful ways. Yes, Chef is completely worth reading. I say go ahead and pre-order it.

*I read this book in ARC form. I hope she's added before publication.

Review: Blame It On Bath by Caroline Linden

Oh, Gerard de Lacey, I kind of hate you.

Everything negative I say from this part forward is totally about my reading preferences and not about how Linden assembles her books. Well, except for a few things. Ok, mostly everything negative I say from this point forward will ... just write your own disclaimer. Linden turns in a decent book. She's brave enough to discard the more annoying recent genre conventions (no near death episodes, no nonsensical coach chases) to focus on giving her characters depth. Since she can't win for losing, aspects of that depth are entirely my problem with Blame It On Bath.

Let's start with Gerard. He's your basic good hearted fraternity brother. Soldier by day, lover by night, he responds to the possible disinheritance of his family with a completely understandable "Oh crap, what about me?" panic. As a man of action (So far the brothers appear to be Uptight Dude, Responsible Pledge and Charlie Sheen) Gerard is going to track a blackmailer down with his own two hands. The need for secrecy is over! (Except later he decides it isn't.) He's going to turn England upside down to discover the truth, but first he has to find out what this chick in the cloak wants. And thus we meet Katherine, who presents herself to Gerard as a winning lottery ticket.

Katherine infuriates me. Both she and Gerard have a habit of treating their trusted personal servants as serfs. When Gerard's man first meets Katherine he says something like "She's a lady..." to which Gerard immediately snaps "...and that's all you ever need to say about her." I think Linden is trying to show that Gerard is already protective of Katherine but he comes across as a complete tool. For her part Katherine has a personal servant that has been with her from infancy. I think her name is Birdie. Anyway, Birdie has an inheritance from Katherine's father meant to make her a woman of independent means so that Birdie can continue to devote her life to Katherine even if Katherine's first husband fires her. Birdie does anything Katherine wants and shines rainbow glitter everywhere she turns. Of course the moment Birdie expresses any concern about anything Katherine snaps at her, at one point telling her to remember her place. These may be servants in a more limited time, but they are people with options. People with self respect. People who are good at their jobs and could be forgiven for packing their bags and stranding Mr. & Mrs. Self Important at a moment's notice. Making Katherine's attitude toward Birdie even more egregious is the set up for our heroine.

Put on a timeline, it makes my head hurt but here we go. Before Katherine's father became rich but after Katherine's titled mother married him for his cash, Katherine was walking down the street in the rain and Gerard gave her a ride home. It was the only kindness anyone (but her father) had ever shown her (but Birdie) so of course she promptly fell in love with him. Ok. Katherine age 30 is 2 years older  than Gerard's 28. This encounter happens before she marries her mildly abusive first husband, so how old is Katherine to be shopping without a chaperone, and thus how old is Gerard to be riding about rescuing wet damsels? And will Train A reach the station first if Train B is pulling circus cars? Anyway, so yes. Katherine is going to propose marriage to a man she once met in the street because she fell in love with him after he gave her a ride home when they were of uncertain age to be wandering the streets.

Katherine is a Daddy's Girl and a widow worth a bajillion dollars. She can assert herself enough against her controlling mother and erstwhile suitor to meet with her attorney and discuss her inheritance, she can sneak out in the middle of the night and propose to Gerard, but she can't buy a small cottage and retire? No. Katherine is the sort of woman who needs a man to run her life for her. The parts of the book where Gerard and Katherine come to know each other are charming, but they are undercut by the set up for their marriage. Of course Gerard treats the wife that fell into his lap like a Powerball Jackpot casually. He's clothed her, housed her and rescued her. Why would he talk to her? Katherine makes some friends, throws some jealous fits and then runs off with the mother she hates because gosh golly gee willikers that will show him.

And it does.

Gerard freaks out that Katherine isn't there to adore him with meager cause. He drops everything that was motivating his life to that point so he can rush to her side. Look, we knew the mystery was going for all three books. I'm just not thrilled that Gerard transitioned from a guy who would tackle the 1810 version of Hoarders in his quest for justice to the guy who says "Well, this really is my brother's problem so he can fix it." (No wonder Charlie never gets upset when his brothers stress out over the latest crisis - they can't be arsed to finish anything.) Gerard stops caring about being cast out of society as a bastard the minute he realizes his wife can be self destructively pissy. Why worry about their children's future when they can make some?  In Gerard's defense he has (via Katherine) almost certainly proven his legitimacy, moving the mystery of the next book from are-they-or-are-they-not to who-hates-Charlie-Sheen-and-why? I don't know about Charlie, but I know who hates Katherine. This girl. Me. Right here. I do. She and Gerard are perfect for each other since needy, dependent and moody appears to be his type.

Review: A Lady's Lesson In Scandal by Meredith Duran

Meredith Duran is an interesting writer. She strikes me as a cross between Judith Ivory and Mary Balogh. Like Balogh, her books are often character studies where little happens externally. Like Ivory, her characters are quite realistic. In A Lady's Lesson In Scandal a lost child is recovered and given the Pygmalion treatment. But her childhood in poverty has made her stronger than the hero, not weaker. Simon has been raised in financial comfort but emotional poverty. As a result, he has found himself with few survival skills outside of his charm. A classic example of meeting the very low bar set for him, Simon keeps his depth hidden. Nell's hard earned need to read people before they strike out allows her to see there is something beneath his surface charm.

I'm surprised to find I have very little to say about Nell and Simon. I very much enjoyed their story. It's definitely on my short list for best books I read this year. (Maybe it's the broken ankle?) The issue of class was executed very well, as Simon's revulsion gives way to a realization of his own petty biases. Nell's anger at her change in circumstance, her refusal to relax her guard and her inability to refute her origins all ring true as well. A Lady's Lesson In Scandal is filled with the sort of small moments that make a character more than a momentary diversion. Nell absolutely found her way into my heart and if she wants Simon, she should have him. I hope there is a sequel in the works. At the book's close we are left with more questions than answers about Nell's separation from her family. It reads like a complete story, but one that leaves the reader wishing it had a few more chapters. If you missed this when it came out, hunt it down. It was absolutely worth the time.

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: In Total Surrender by Anne Mallory

This one's worth Agency pricing. We're talking about Lorraine Heath levels of awesome here. I think it may also be controversial. But we can get to that, right?

The opening had me a little off balance. I was afraid that our heroine, Phoebe Pace, was going to be a TSTL* naive Mary Sunshine type. (At one point I was deeply concerned for her mental stability.) Without giving everything away, I was wrong. So wrong. If Phoebe starts to worry you, give her time. She's worth waiting for. Phoebe's doing the whole "anything for my family" bit but not in a "I'm trading myself for my brother's debts" kind of way. She's more of a bill juggler. You know, like when you accidentally send the power company the phone company's check? (I think they got wise to that one.)  Phoebe's family owes Andreas Merrick quite a bit of cash, but she's thinking they can pay it back if a few events go her way.

Andreas Merrick is the potential controversy. The brother of One Night Is Never Enough's hero, Andreas gives new meaning to 'dangerous to know'. (He's a crime lord, it makes sense.) Taking the realistic outcome of the Merrick brothers background to the next level, Mallory makes it clear that Andreas isn't secretly a super nice and harmless guy. He kills people on at least a weekly basis. While it startled me, it works. We have so many dark, angsty, self made men in Romance Land that claw their way up, run gangs, control vast sections of London, and manage to do it all without hurting anyone. If you're a universally feared ruler of the streets, it's likely more than just talk. I can see some readers having difficulty accepting that Andreas isn't a nice guy. It's not a nice world he lives in. In his world, nice means dead.

So Phoebe wants to save her family business and Andreas wants to destroy it as a step on his path to revenge. (Those dark and angsty guys always have the revenge thing going on.) Poor Phoebe is caught in the middle with her company on one side and Andreas's enemy on the other.  I loved the power struggle between these two equally determined characters so much. I read a Lorraine Heath novel directly after In Total Surrender and I still say Anne Mallory has turned in one of the best books of the year. It's so good I even forgive her giving our super dreamy Andreas a definitely not dreamy family member. (We'll just pretend we've never seen that guy's picture, ok?)

In Total Surrender works on it's own terms but I think my emotional connection to the characters was aided by having read One Night Is Never Enough. Both Andreas's social awkwardness and Roman Merrick's flippant attitude are well established in the prior book. While In Total Surrender certainly explains both, I would read the two together if possible. I hope this book puts Anne Mallory where she belongs. She is on my short list of favorite historical authors. This has been an interesting series from Mallory, asking us as readers to accept that the dangerous hero is often a murderous one. It would be easy for her to spin a series off from the other side of the coin, people who have suffered as the unseen collateral damage of the brothers. I can't explain why women are attracted to men like these in life, but in fiction the Merrick brothers are certainly worth the trouble.

*Too Stupid To Live

Review: New York to Dallas by J.D. Robb

Does this really need a review? What are we -  33, 34 books out? (I guess we do because I find myself with things to say about New York To Dallas.) Disclaimer - I like Nora Roberts / J.D. Robb as an actual person. I think she is gracious, hilarious, biting, generous, all the things I look for in a person. I find her NR books hit or miss and her Eve series completely addictive even though I don't like Roarke. (I know. That's fine. Being a party of one never bothers me.) Some on Twitter wondered if the series could continue as it is with so many of the primary mysteries about Eve wrapped up. I say yes.

For me, Eve's backstory has gone to characterization. While I have been interested in aspects of it, I have not felt a compelling need for answers. Having the answers doesn't fundamentally change what I enjoy about the books. Still, taking Eve to Dallas was a smart choice. As the series has grown, so have the lives Eve becomes involved in. Sometimes I feel characters are getting shoehorned into a story they don't belong in, just so they can make an appearance. Putting Eve in Dallas relieved author and reader of that mental checklist. (Although almost the entire cast is at least name checked.) I agree that NYTD would be a reasonable place to tie off the character. Roberts works several years ahead of publication, so I imagine her editors know if she's done with Eve. My money says no. I think she was done with Eve's past, with having that shoe waiting to drop.

There is a character introduced fairly early in NYTD who made me sigh. I knew where we were going before we left the station. While the execution was well done, it's not the path I would have liked to see taken. The world is really not as small as it seems in NYTD. (That's been an issue for me in the past as well, there are only so many overlapping circles I find reasonable.) The core plot of NYTD I quite liked - a criminal Eve put away in her youth returns for a rematch in the prime of her career. He's lost his edge, she's gained experience, but he has the advantage of caring less about the lives in jeopardy. (One thing I really adore about the In Death series would be that it never fetishizes or eroticizes the psychopaths.) Parts of the story reminded me of details from the Jaycee Duggard story, but not in a Lifted From The Headlines way. Overall, it's a solid Eve Dallas tale, and one I think will not disappoint fans of the series.

On the downside, NYTD has a 'cofftea' moment. Eve picks up several new shorthand slang words, including one for analysis.  I was not the first to notice this, it fairly jumps off the page. (If the author wasn't Nora Roberts it would be a meme by now. I have never even considered doing such a thing to my laundry.) My new catchphrase for the year is going to be a quote lifted directly from the pages of NYTD. I just can't say it in front of any kids. Or at the laundromat. Possibly even in public (although we both know I will). Yet these sentences made it through all the eyes that stand between a prepublication certified bestseller and your hands. Goes to show.

Review: My Father At 100 by Ron Reagan

I love this book. Flat out love it.

Let's get the politics out of the way first. I was not a fan of Reagan as a President. I think a large part of our failing economic situation today is a direct result of his True Believers perpetuation of ill conceived faith based economic policies. When he talked about his America I wanted to drag him to my America for a session of Compare And Contrast. This made my interest in reading My Father At 100 pretty darn low. (On the other hand, I respect the hell out of Ron Reagan. Your father is the most revered conservative icon since ever and you've consistently got the fortitude to calmly say "Well, I don't agree.") Back to my point - the cover of this book does not say Portrait Of An Icon it says My Father At 100. I've never respected the former president more than I did at the close of Ron's ruminations on his father's life.

Partly a biographical sketch, partly an examination of the father and son dynamic, partly a love letter, My Father At 100 isn't shy about saying "Well, I don't agree." Ron leaves the myth making behind yet - through his detailed examinations of his father's flaws - the strengths are exposed. Reagan was a diplomatic man. He did not encourage the level of hostility his worshippers have embraced. He was a man with a vision and the determination to see it through, even if that vision was hopelessly rose colored. Reagan was a man who strove to overcome his own limitations through hard work. If 99% of success is just showing up prepared, his move into politics becomes less surprising.

Ron explores his father's childhood, Ron Sr's troubled relationship with his own father and their strong family values. The picture that emerges is of an imperfect man that I simply didn't agree with. Ron's father being an iconic American is secondary to the man that Ron reveals, a man I might have liked to sit and talk with about things not related to Communism or Economic Policy. Ron Jr and Sr could not have been farther apart. Born of different generations, inclined toward different politics, one a cynic and the other a pie in the sky idealist, the two men are held together by a core honesty, a willingness to speak their minds. My Father At 100 was truly a rewarding read.

Review: Composed by Rosanne Cash

It's interesting - in trying to write a love letter to her father  with Good Stuff Jennifer Grant ended up making the reader think less of them both. Rosanne Cash takes a different path. In Composed Cash is at pains to be honest, about herself, about her father, about her conflicted feelings.  Her fearless style reminds me of a lyric by Simple Kid.

"Buddy, it's as simple as that / When you see past all of the crap." 


Rosanne Cash absolutely sees past the crap. While completely unfamiliar with her musical work, I left the book interested in exploring it. She's a likeable narrator, a woman you'd want to spend a day hanging out with. Her memoir is not a linear or exhaustive work. She focuses on brief periods of her life and her feelings about them before turning the light to a completely different time. She does not exploit a life made for exploitation, reserving what she should and illuminating what she wants. I respect her all the more for protecting her children from a blow by blow account of her relationships. I respect her for confessing her frustrations as a parent and as a child. What emerges from Composed is a portrait of a woman finding herself while multiple lives pull at her. The life she's set her feet on suits her, the city she's chosen to live in is a good one for maintaing perspective. Her parents emerge as people sometimes overwhelmed by their circumstances yet leaving their children a legacy of love. Not an easy achievement, and one that requires the child to meet them more than halfway.

For me the most resonant passage is during a trip to Ireland. Rosanne happens to meet a living link to her father in the form of a shopkeeper. I have had those moments, I have had a letter from a woman who played in the street a hundred years ago with my lost family member. She had pictures too. It's an amazing and inexplicable experience to find yourself somewhere you didn't really plan to be only to find your family waiting for you. Truly a memoir rather than an autobiography, Composed is out in paperback next month and it's worth spending some time with.

Review: Lord Langley Is Back In Town by Elizabeth Boyle

I normally don't write a spoiler filled review on such a recent release but Lord Langley Is Back In Town was such a crushing disappointment that I feel the need to make an exception. Ok, let's break it down for those who wish to remain spoiler free. I did not like Lord Langley, I did not like the deployment of the Nannies, I did not like the reinvention of Minerva, I did not like the breathtakingly cruel way Lord Langley treats his daughters, I did not like the central mystery and I most certainly did not like the return of the hermetically sealed heroine.

Other than that, the book was great. I mean, if you don't care about any of that stuff you'll be fine. You've got spies and shooting and nefarious plots and situational amnesia and duels and betrayals and all that sort of stuff. You could probably turn your mind off and enjoy Lord Langley Is Back In Town. As for myself? Well, Spoilers Ahoy Me Mateys, Here Those Spoilers Be.

Let's start things rolling with Minerva. We've known Minerva (from the prior books) as being wound far too tight, disapproving utterly of Lucy for her low beginnings, an absolute stickler for propriety and a general stick pushed firmly in the mud. Why is Minerva this way? (Really, it's spoiler time, I am not kidding around here!) Because she is actually her half sister. Yes, our Minerva is secretly not Minerva but instead the daughter of the cook who may or may not have also been a murderess. All her starchy ways have just been overcompensation during her masquerade. (I know!) She kept the diamonds from Lucy (and later Felicity) not because Lucy was common, but because she liked them so much. Right. Moving on, the reason Minerva is impersonating her sister is that her sister ran off to marry Minerva's boyfriend forcing their father to substitute his similarly aged bastard for the blue blood said sister's fiance never really met. Which Minerva agreed to do because - I don't know. But she did. And he was old and smelly and couldn't get it up. So! Despite being of lower bastard birth and having the sort of boyfriend that runs off with your sister and being a widow, Minerva is a virgin for our hero Lord Langley! He won't catch anything from her! She's been saved for his protection.

On the other hand, Lord Langley has banged half of Europe, with the utterly charming (read sociopathic) hobby of introducing lovers to his twin daughters as Nannies. The Nannies have appeared, having realized that he isn't dead, and barge into Minerva's home to await his arrival. Why is Langley going to Minerva's house? So they can meet of course. There is a tedious story of Langley having to hide in plain sight and figure out who betrayed him and blah blah blah but I will leave you something to discover on your own. I'd rather talk about Langley and the Nannies. Mostly, they are jokes instead of women. There is one exception (Jamilla) but Langley primarily does what every man lucky enough to get a hermetically sealed heroine does - he looks at his former lovers with distaste and disbelief. Not long standing friends, he and these women. No, because that would make them Real People. A Real Conversation between Langley and the Nannies would rip open the plot (such as it is) and cut about a hundred pages. So, the Nannies are just comic relief or something.

What about Langley's daughters? Has he told his twins he is alive? I really feel for those girls, actually. Given their father's paramours as Nannies, dragged hither and yon by his spy career, dumped alone at boarding school by a certain age and then told he has died in disgrace - it hasn't been sunshine and roses for Felicity and Thalia. Sure, they've got mad skills in all sorts of unlikely places, but their mother is dead and their father isn't available to them. You can't excuse that by writing a scene where he carries their letters by his heart even through French prisons and murder attempts. Those girls have had it rough. This makes the ending of Lord Langley even more breathtakingly cruel. Having cleared his name at last, does Lord Langley settle down to be a doting grandfather or apologetic father? Does he step back from the adventures that cost him and his daughters so much in life?

Of course not. He takes his wife, Minerva, and travels to China for years. Felicity, his more troubled daughter, undertakes a renovation of his townhouse in an attempt to please him. Is her reward his happy face? No, it's finding out that she has three half brothers born during his travels. Half brothers he and Minerva wrote to her sister about, half brothers everyone in the family thought it best to keep from her, to just surprise her with. Is it any wonder Felicity is a bitch of a control freak? How does she look at his face without bursting into tears on a regular basis? How does she not slap Thalia across a room? Making this HEA even less of one, the new family plans to settle down at the family estate - the same family estate they promised not to evict another family from, a loyal family that was of great service to Lord Langley until he had sons and wanted to raise them.

I think Elizabeth Boyle and I are going to have to break up.

Review: Good Stuff by Jennifer Grant

I don't do a lot of editing on reviews. My style (obviously) is to go with my gut reaction, give it a pass over for spelling and grammar, then walk away. I am not the carefully crafted multiple draft reviewer. Therefore, reviewing Good Stuff is difficult. I feel so much compassion for Jennifer Grant the person. She has not put out a book. She has put out the version of her father she wishes the world would cosign. How do you review someone else's reality?

Good Stuff is the way Jennifer would like to recall her childhood and her father. Bad Stuff is anything not in that very, very narrow track. Grant's style reads as if she is talking to herself and you are permitted to listen in. She repeats herself, she jumps around in time, she reflects with oblique comments of a word or two. It's a very stylized approach and not a fully successful one. Her dislike for breaching her privacy is obvious and yet she has written a book to be sold to the public. Her dislike for the public's less respectful questions is also obvious, and again, she has written a book to be sold to the public. It is an absolute case of having her cake and eating it. While deliberately choosing not to explore her father's past or put the events of her life in context Grant raises more questions than she answers. Her father appears obsessed with her, it seems to go a bit beyond the average. He creates an archive of personal effects, complete with a bank vault style safe to store them in. He tells his young daughter that she is "his type" and as she grows older marries a young woman with a bit more than a passing resemblance to her. He's controlling, although Jennifer sees him otherwise. She cannot wear makeup in her teens, he prefers the silent treatment to conversation, imperfection is for others. There is a lot to sort through but it is left unexamined.

Grant doesn't explore the complexity of her father's personality, his past or the ten year custody battle for her person. She delivers a love letter to the concept of her father she has built in her mind, a concept she has every right to hold, but which a reader will find implausible and confusing. Any 'why' the reader may have is shied away from by the daughter. I question if Grant was ready to write a true memoir of her experiences. There is a lot of hero worship and no true introspection. Readers wanting a peek inside the gates, a reinforcement of the Grant image will be satisfied with Good Stuff. Readers wanting a true memoir balancing adult understanding with childhood impressions will come away thinking less of both Grants than they did at the start of the book.

The Grants adored each other and adored their privacy. I am not sure what purpose Good Stuff serves. It may have helped Grant to write it, it may be useful to children of much older parents who wish to compare experiences, perhaps it will be treasured by Grant's son Cary, but Good Stuff doesn't offer much to most who would read it.