Review: The Real Duchesses of London by Lavina Kent

 You know that Alanis Morissette song? The one you never liked but they played forever? The one that made "going down on him in a theater" sound like an even worse idea than it did before? (Honestly, did you hear her wail about public sex as anything but a mark of her desperation?) It's back and it's moved to London. I won't tell you which book it takes place in, but given that the other trots out the equally tired canard of the heroine only being able to relax enough for orgasm if she's bound to the bed, I am a bit afraid what book three will bring. Would a long series be forced to explore autoerotic asphyxiation?

That's my hesitation with The Real Duchesses of London. The premise of novellas based on the love lives and cat fights of a group of women is delightful. In fact, an episode in Linnette, The Lioness is one of the best scenes I've read in ages. The romantic conflicts are equally satisfying. The concept of their fame is a bit underdeveloped, I could see them having more street recognition, but still very engaging. For the price, they're a good length as well. Much as I enjoyed them, the sex seemed a bit forced by the end of Episode 2, as though part of the formula is for each heroine to have her own sex twist. I'd rather have cut half the sex and doubled up on the cat fights. Reading about one of the heroines being proud of her accomplishment (ie, swallowing) made me roll my eyes. That may just be me but if it's you too, be aware.

All of that said, I'd still recommend both. I did enjoy the twisted tale of friendship between the women and would have bought the third book immediately upon closing the second. While not perfectly sublime reads, they are original and fun. A great length for a lunchtime read and a good introduction to the author. In episode one, Kathryn is dealing with the aftermath of a miscarriage and her husband's loss of sexual interest since the event. For Lavinia, the problem is one of emotional interest. The return of her childhood love leaves her wondering if trust can be renewed.

For romance, I'd give the nod to Episode One. For catty enjoyment, I'd have to go with Episode Two. Either way, I don't think you'll go far wrong. (Just skip the theater that night, because at least one of them Oughta Know)

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.

In Which Baby Moves On

When you travel, any number of unexpected events will take place. I regret to inform you that Baby and I have had a parting of the ways. I decided to take both the Sony PRS-350 and Baby, the Sony 505 on the road. (Ozy stayed home. It was better that way.) Baby and I have spent a lot of time together. We've been in hospitals, we've been stuck overnight at airport gates, we've even hung out on the beach. None of this was Baby's fault. 


If we're honest, it was all about the touch. 
Ozy (the iPad) has me used to instant response. I don't have to coax him, there's no waiting for the menus to align or the time to be right. Ozy is ready to go when I am. Baby's older. You know how it is, he needs to psych himself up before he can perform. Just checking his SD card takes a few minutes. I don't judge. PRS-350 may not have as responsive a touch as Ozy, but touch it has. I learned it takes a different stroke to get the response I was looking for. We can work with that.
Once I figured out the PRS-350's personal kinks there was no going back. The stylus was simple to use for on the go note taking or file annotation, the touch screen felt far more natural after using an iPad, the weight was considerably less awkward to hold. PRS-350 and I are together now.


I'm afraid Baby didn't take it well - we had an incident involving multiple rebootings, but I think he's recovered. It's not like I sent him into the cold, just into my tween's backpack. He's living the high life of YA fiction these days and even dipping into the occasional emerging reader title. (His new owner has to share with others.) While the PRS-350 is sharper screen and a lighter hold than an iPad, I am still using Ozy for my primary needs. The PRS-350 has a long lag time when deleting notes or bookmarks, and the touch screen occasionally requires multiple swipes. Overall, I still feel Sony has the best dedicated e-reader on the market, even if they seem determined to throw that market away. So, PRS-350 has a permanent place in my handbag and a new piece of my heart. One day I might even figure his name out. PRS-350 seems too formal, like a bad Spielberg college film. 


*If you're wondering, the above was taken with a very cheap Nikon in the late summer afternoon at Stockholm's Tivoli Grona Lund. It's views are amazing.

Review: Waking Up With The Duke by Lorraine Heath

* Note, Waking Up With The Duke will feel cluttered with characters if the reader hasn't read the prior books in the series. I think you can read Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman as a stand alone, and it would enhance Waking Up With The Duke.

My biggest disappointment with Waking Up With The Duke is the resolution of Ainsley's mother's relationship. I really think she could have carried a full book of her own. Granted, the 48 (ish) year old heroine isn't a big market but so much of her history was left unexplored that I think it would have been accepted. Sad faces aside, there is a lot to love in Waking Up With The Duke.

Heath starts by giving Ainsley, the brother who always does the right thing, a personal tragedy. In a drunken driving episode he has crippled his cousin and close friend. In the ensuing emotional aftermath, his cousin's wife Jayne lost her child. These are events neither Jayne nor Ainsley can forgive him for even three years later. From here, Heath takes one of my least favorite romance plots and turns it inside out. Jayne's husband wants Ainsley to knock Jayne up. Cause, you know, cousins is close enough for horseshoes in the inheritance game.

I've always hated the husband as pimp plot. Ten or twenty years ago it wouldn't have involved a DUI but a gay spouse. It wouldn't have been cousins, it would have been brothers. Heath takes some of the ick factor out of this tried and true situation by changing those small details first. Then she addresses the issues of consent and coercion as it applies to all parties, offering a look at the emotional costs of sperm donation via a month of sex. I respect the sympathy she makes the reader feel for all parties involved - but I was regretful that Ainsley is let off the hook toward the end. Also, Jayne's belief that holding a child is the most magical of magical moments needed a sharp reality smack later in the book which does not arrive. (As women writing for women why can't we also show that motherhood is not always easy, even with wanted children or good mothers. Birth is not a short track to bliss. Bonding is not always instant, birth pains are not so quickly dismissed, especially before the epidural.)

Heath delivers a high angst level as Jayne and Ainsley ricochet between the emotional blows they deliver to themselves as well as those delivered by her husband. Toward the end of the book Ainsley's mother is forced to choose between her own lost love and her mysterious younger lover. Unfortunately most of her resolution takes place away from the reader - Leo's background is not revealed nor is the triangle properly dismantled. Through this series I have found the emotional honesty of Ainsley's mother sometimes more compelling than that of her sons. It is she I am most sorry to say goodbye to, as much as I loved the individual books.

Review: The Taming of the Rake by Kasey Michaels

Kasey Michaels can be hit or miss for me. (I'd say it's about a 70% success rate.) This new series, The Blackthorn Brothers, starts off strong. The Taming of the Rake sets up the series premise - three brothers raised in the aristocracy as the bastard sons of their father and his wife's sister. The boys are raised in their father's household with warmth and all the care given legitimate children. Regrettably, this has lead Beau Blackthorn to think his bastard status won't matter to the Lady Madelyne. He is very wrong.

Fast forward a number of years and Madelyne's sister, Chelsea, needs a husband fast. Her brother has fallen under the spell of a religious zealot and her sister is too involved in her own life to care. Chelsea sees Beau Blackthorn as her escape from marriage to her brother's spiritual leader. Being the direct sort, she walks right into his house and demands they elope. Problem is, Beau hasn't seen her since he was rejected by her sister. Chelsea, not being the sort to take no for an answer, soon has him on the road and headed for the altar.

Most of the action in The Taming of the Rake takes place as they hurtle from one destination to another, with events repeatedly redirecting them. Chelsea isn't terribly likeable, but if you accept that she is supposed to be a bit of a shrew (and much better than Madelyne) it's easy to warm to her. The set up for the brother's background is as original as the relationships between Chelsea's family members. I found The Taming of the Rake an enjoyable and light read that left me interested in the next two books. Unfortunately a secret hinted at in the close of The Taming of the Rake leaves me concerned. The premise of these men as bastards and the relationship between their parents is unique. I'm afraid there will be a last minute reveal of their legitimacy, some sort of being thought a bastard builds character moment that will undermine it all. I hope I'm wrong. This was a breezy read and a solid start to the trilogy. If you like Kasey Michaels at least as often as I do, it's worth checking out.

Review: Evil Genius by Patricia Rice

I don't like this cover. I don't like it a lot. To me it sort of says late 80's sexcapade, something by Jackie Collins or Harold Robbins.

The top is fine, and if the bottom of the book was a solid color it might work, but the girl throws it right in the hopper for me. Someone stop her before she plucks again - that eyebrow is barely hanging on. I'm thinking the brow issue might explain why she's holding a hank of hair in front of her face. Try and get your hair to sit like that without assisting it. Go ahead, I'll wait. I mean, if it's long enough. Right, it doesn't. That's got to tickle the nose and fatigue the elbow. But whatever, it's the contents that count.

I wanted to love Evil Genius but it made me like it. The price point is fantastic, it's a comfortable amount to pay for a read and the book itself delivers more than that in value. My quibbles were stylistic and quibbley. (Is quibbley a word? It totally should be. I'm inventing it right now if it isn't.) Evil Genius is mostly in the first person. Every so often we take a quick trip to the third person to see what's motivating our heroine's sister, the Evil Genius in question. That would be fine if we needed to know what EG is up to, but we largely don't. If the reader had the same lack of knowledge about EG's actions as the heroine does the story wouldn't suffer. Because of that the effect is like a commercial interruption in the middle of your favorite show. It doesn't matter if the commercial is entertaining, it's not the main event. My other quibbley point involves Ana herself. She's two girls in one. Ana is a mild introvert with a bit of a complex about her parents, and Ana is also Angelina Jolie on an endorphin high. It doesn't really work for me that this kick ass confident chick is also this insecure hermit. Yes, she shows her kick ass bona fides off early in the book so they are not a complete surprise, but they still don't sit comfortably on her shoulders. The conceit is that their mother, Magda, has raised all of them to be unique and powerful individuals through a system of benign neglect. I could never really buy into it.

All of those quibbly quibbles being set aside, Evil Genius was a very enjoyable read. There are some great moments in Evil Genius (same kind of car as your daddy, bitch) and some red herrings (Sean) coupled with a nice mix of high and low stakes mysteries. A little more resolution for The Man In The Attic would have made the book an even stronger read. (He's the Charlie to her Angel). I actually did find I liked Evil Genius enough to hope for a sequel. The short synopsis might go something like:

Ana, a kick ass heroine who dreams of being a quiet mouse, finds her cover of domesticity blown when her young sister arrives at the door. When EG is followed by another of their many siblings Ana realizes it's time to reclaim her ancestral home. Unfortunately, it's already been claimed by a mysterious man with little interest in her family problems. Ana must solve the murder of a Senator's aide, uncover a money laundering cartel and still get her sister to school on time. Can she do it all and still get dinner? Only with the help of her friends. 

Or something. I dunno. I don't write book blurbs. I just say cranky or fawning things about books. It's so hard when a book is just sitting there being a good read. What do you do with a good read? I guess you just buy it and move on.

Review: For I Have Sinned by Darynda Jones

Hey, did you know you can get this short for free?

Neither did I. I'm going to blame jet lag. If you can find it gratis, go pick it up. For I Have Sinned is sort of like Julia Quinn's epilogues - much better if you've read the book and super short. The paid version comes with three excerpts (one for each book in the series) so if your only option is paying the buck I should tell you the file size is deceptive. This story runs about 30 pages.

But I liked it, you could like it too. I'd buy another, so there you go. I love the art style they've chosen for this series. It's strong, it's visual, it's chick lit without the cloying artificial aftertaste. I appreciate a well designed cover almost as much as a terrible one. (There's a book coming out in August with a cover that makes me think "first anal experience" instead of "historical wallpaper". You'll know it when you see it, trust me.)  So, nice visual. Alright - can we move on to the spoilers now?

The story itself is scant but engaging. A woman finds herself in Charley's room (You may recall Charley is The Grim Reaper. The. Singular. That's the story they are sticking with, one girl for all the dead of the world.) so there's no question that our narrator is dead. The dilemma is how did she die and why? Here is where the spoilers come in. No really, they do. Stop reading this, go read For I Have Sinned and then come back or something. It's thirty pages. I can't help but give away the entire plot if we talk about it.

I hate it when you make me hurt you. Fine, but don't cry about it later. I told you there would be spoilers and spoilers there now are. Our heroine has died of juvvie diabetes. I LOVE THAT. Type 1 diabetes is a nasty piece of work. It's not Wilford Whatshisname on television explaining how the government can pay to send supplies to your home, it's continual slow damage to a kid's entire body. It's a nasty vicious beast. Having her die of such a common cause is a nice change of pace from psychos in car accidents. What isn't a nice change of pace is Baby Fever. Jane Austen, were she writing today, would probably have something pithy to say about babies and romances. "It is commonly believed that a story in need of extending..." or something like that. Whatever, I'm not Austen. Look! It's a baby! Who can hate a baby???

I'm getting to the point where a baby in a short story or an epilogue makes me adopt the slow clap tone of voice "Oh. A baby. I hoped there would be a baby. This story really needed... a baby." Can't people just buy a puppy? Puppies are cute. Who can hate a puppy?

A Month In Books

I spent the past four weeks traveling by various methods, completely unconnected. No phone, no iPad, no laptop, just a number of books and a lot of sightseeing. 

I had preloaded a number of reviews for this blog, but I thought it might interest you to see what three weeks of reading looks like for me. In addition to magazines, I read the following. I won't review all of these, as I don't review everything. 

The Sony PRS-350 really outperformed the Sony 505 on the road. I think Baby's getting kicked to the curb. You'll have to forgive the lack of formatting, I'm still unpacking.

 

Review: The Girl's Guide to Homelessness by Brianna Karp

I wanted to like this book. Actually, I wanted to love this book. Sadly, Brianna Karp has done the unforgivable with The Girl's Guide to Homelessness. She has forced me to defend Fox News.

"Baby, you can't watch this. This is Fox News. It's not real news. No wonder " Duh. I grabbed the remote from his hand before he could hurl it in Nancy Grace's monologuing face. "How about we try a little CNN?" - Brianna Karp, TGGTH, 2011.


The most obvious problem is that Nancy Grace is not an employee of Fox News. If Nancy Grace is speaking, they are already watching CNN. The second is her tone. Her lover is making an error in his ignorance that she can make all better through her higher knowledge. Except she's wrong. So she's adopting this arch silly boy my culture let me show you it pose on a topic she knows nothing about. This isn't a small error of fact, this is proof of fiction. I don't doubt she and her lover watch television news.  I do doubt the truth of Brianna Karp's presentation of her life. She is simply too victimized and too noble and too good and those around her are too flawed and too evil and too everything else. As we used to say on the playground, "Get off the cross. We need the wood."

Karp takes pains to show how much better she is than every single soul she knows. When her trailer is towed after a written warning, she is not at fault. She had a verbal statement from the local manager that the written warning was simply corporate's posturing. Nothing to worry about! The little boss has said the big boss is all smoke! When her lover has a child with another woman, that woman is at fault for improper planning. When she has her own unplanned pregnancy*, the other woman is still at fault for manipulating her lover through their now present child. If only her lover had listened to her it would all be different! She knew what a problem that woman would be! (Insert her diatribe on how women don't appreciate men after they give birth and the good men she's seen wronged by crazy hormonal new mothers as a result. Oh yea, she goes there.) Her unemployed, cheating, unmedicated lover was just too sweet to see it. Wait a few pages though, he turns into a heartless monster who leaves her to die in the snow. Better to freeze than disbelieve, I suppose.

Karp starts off strong, but what begins as a journey into housing uncertainty (even she agrees she is not fully homeless) becomes a long list of ways she has done everything right only to be cruelly betrayed. This is a personality type I am more than a bit familiar with, so here Karp sets my BS meter off again. For example, the reader is supposed to believe that she is doing everything she can to change her situation, but Karp continually redirects money into nonessential areas.  She also prides herself on not using programs meant to assist her into stable housing, because those are for people that need help, not people like herself. (Yet she's willing to pursue Walmart for money after her illegally parked trailer is legally removed from their property. Go figure. She is absolutely one of those 'it's the principle of the thing' types.)

I felt tired after spending time with Karp. While the problem of homelessness and housing uncertainty is very real in America, Brianna Karp doesn't offer much to the reader's understanding of either. I believe a memoir from the other people in her life would illustrate a very different tale of a young life going wrong, and for that she has my compassion. What she doesn't have is my endorsement. If her goal was to change one person, she's changed me. I have often tried to explain my mother's propensity for hoarding with the line "She probably has the wrappers from her first trip to McDonald's." Now that Karp has used a similar phrase I will have to move on. I never want to be accused of lifting from her material.

*I find a great deal about this unplanned pregnancy and the subsequent loss of her child troubling. If true, she shows herself to be a deeply damaged woman. If not true, she shows herself to be the same. No matter which way the reader decides the truth lies, the result is a fervent hope that no child is placed in her care. It is an uncomfortable judgement to make about a stranger, but it is an extraordinary series of events the reader is asked to accept.

Review: BBC History Magazine

 But wait, you might be saying, this is not a book. It's not even an e-book. You're right. I can't deny that BBC History Magazine is, by it's own admission, not a book. It occurred to me that some readers may not be aware of this really outstanding publication. It seems like a lot for the American reader to spend on a magazine, I know. I take advantage of the Christmas subscription rates. December often brings a sharp reduction. (The normal digital price hovers around $7 USD, the paper issue around $8 USD.)

Yet this is one of the very few things I still purchase in paper format. Without fail, without question, without blinking at price fluctuations when I did not have a subscription. For the price of an Agency paperback I get hours more of enjoyment. I listen to the podcast as well, but never before reading the issue cover to cover. Sometimes, rarely, I disagree with BBC History utterly. Challenged on an article referring to Native Americans as 'Indians' the Letter Column asserted that 'Indian' was the correct (indeed preferred) American term even citing the Bureau of Indian Affairs as proof. Let's just say it's not as simplistic as it was made out to be.

Those sort of quibbles aside, BBC History consistently offers excellent and engaging history made completely accessible. Want to know what the streets of Tudor London smelled like? They've got you covered, right down to why it was bad but better than the Seine. Wondering if the Roman Occupation was all that? Britannia has a defender in BBC History. If I had to give up an expenditure in my entertainment budget, this magazine would be one of the very last items to go. We don't have an American magazine of this caliber, obsessed as we are with WW2 and the Civil War. A magazine that would delve into King Philip's War or the Trouble With Trumans? Not easy to find, and often slanted to a certain political point of view to boot.

If you've a magazine of the same quality as BBC History, please recommend it to me. If you've never checked out BBC History hit their website up to sample the wares.

Review: It Happened One Season by Mary Balogh, Stephanie Laurens, Candice Hern, Jacquie D'Alessandro

Anthologies don't get much respect. I've read some fantastic shorts, (Edith Layton and gingerbread, oh my god. I don't remember the story but the gingerbread and his aversion to it was so evocative that it's never left me.) some not so fantastic shorts and some dogs. I'm still attracted to them. I want this to be awesome, because the premise is awesome, but it's not. It Happened One Season is made of average. It's not bad, none of the stories caused me to storm off in a huff. It's not great, there's no gingerbread moment here.

I think the story that might stay with me belongs to Candice Hern, but for the wrong reasons. She's done one of my favorite things - the Regency Heroine With A Disability - but she's done it with some tedium. Phillippa has a pronounced limp and Nat has PTSD from the war. The problem is that Phillippa is perfect. Patient, understanding, gracious, pretty, it goes on and on. She's also disabled and that is her only interesting personality point. Her disability is mentioned, dwelled on, discussed, reiterated, it's a giant neon sign in the reader's face that obscures all else about this couple. I give Hern huge points for it, but by the time they dance awkwardly to the cheers of society I was ready to break Phillippa's other hip.

Stephanie Laurens is turning out some great shorts. (I'm not into her full length books of late so it confuses me.) Here she has hit another triple, if not a full home run.  Jacquie D'Alessandro gets a little complicated. Her hero feels responsible for the death of her heroine's brother while the heroine, Penelope, has lost her position as a governess due to an affinity for classical sculpture. While the tale of a women trying to survive on the fringe is welcome, Penny gives it up in about half a second when Alec sweeps in to rescue her. From there it's Alec's weird guilt, let him allude to it and Penny's independence, let her abdicate it. I thought it was going to be epic but D'Alessandro blinks. Alec isn't going to be relating a friendly fire incident in these few pages. (It's good but not great.) Mary Balogh brings her usual style with a damaged widow and the impatient soldier who fell for her on a battlefield far away. Theirs was the most satisfying on the romance front, but it's a familiar path for Balogh and it felt a bit familiar. Overall, I wouldn't go Agency pricing for this one. Anthologies trade for pennies after a few months, It Happened One Season is unlikely to be an exception.

Review: Boozehound by Jason Wilson

Y'all may be aware that I'm southern. Not Southern, capital S which involves the misguided use of battle flags and excessively short denim cutoffs. (Oh hush. It was the 80's. What happened in the 80's stays in the 80's.) Being southern and having Southern family members, I grew up around a fair bit of drinking. For a time, I drank myself. Now the other half of my people (See? Only the southern talk like that.) are Yanks. Prohibitionist Yanks. Writers of famous screeds on the evils of devil rum and it's sister the demon of drink. (That stuff is hilarious, actually).

Therefore, the first thing to hit me on reading Boozehound was how lacking in shame it all was. This guy, this Jason Wilson, he just travels around trying drinks? Hasn't he been arrested for disorderly a lot? No? How does that work? And these people in these other countries - they have drinks together at dinner as a family? And this is a happy memory? It was a strange land indeed. I want to throw my arm around Boozehound's shoulder and scream in it's ear how much I love it. Half my beer is probably going to end up on Boozehound's jacket, but that's ok. We're likely at a Hold Steady concert and everyone is wearing some beer at the end of those nights. Boozehound is part memoir, part travel diary, part instruction manual and all love. Jason Wilson loves his booze, from the obscure to the common (but not so much the vodka) and all points in between. He wants you to love it too, to have the chance to sample the sort of things our forefathers sampled before our forefathers became Methodist ministers. He is to spirits what Alice Waters is to fresh food, an advocate and a lover. Maybe we'll call it the Slow Drink movement.

Wilson would like you to stop judging a drink by it's radioactive qualities (looking at you TGIF) and start thinking about how it tastes, what it reminds you of, how it enhances your life. He is not so interested in waking up smashed (although a few Lady Gaga tunes on the Karaoke are fine by him). Reading the history of some fine alcohols made me realize how little I knew about them and how what I drunk in high school hardly compares to what my grandfather sat down with after work. (My grandmother was partial to a creme de menthe.) From talking about booze's actual medicinal qualities (slight as they may be now) to the evolution of overpriced fruity vodkas, Wilson held my interest. I couldn't read Boozehound in one sitting, anymore than I could knock back a bottle of Boone's Farm these days. There is just too much content in Boozehound. It needs to be taken a chapter at a time as the mood strikes. I can't say I'm going to resume imbibing (I want to keep that S a lower case one) but I found myself wishing I knew a friend with a well stocked bar at the end of every chapter.

• Warning: contains recipes. May induce drinking in all readers. The surgeon general probably frowns on this. Not for use by those under age or trying to hold onto lower case status.

Review: Last Night's Scandal by Loretta Chase

I was as surprised to find a Loretta Chase book in my TBR as you are. I think the original plan was to save the book for a Bad Day Read, but then the early buzz was mixed so I tossed it into the all purpose TBR bag. Then the Bad Day Read bag was empty. You see where I'm going with this. Rather like the moment when the mysterious orphan whips off her cloak to reveal a hereditary birthmark, a secret piece of jewelry, and a tattoo on her lower back reading "Your Lost Heiress" there was much rejoicing and disbelief.

Last Night's Scandal has a tiny continuity error. There's a moment late in the book where a scene has obviously been altered but it's effect on subsequent events has not. As it appears in the book it is much stronger than it would have been in it's other form, but the distraction remains. Acknowledging that, I still loved Last Night's Scandal. To some extent Loretta Chase is a victim of her own success. When you've written some of the landmark books of the genre, everything else pales.

"Well sure" the reader thinks, "These are original characters that I feel I understand. Absolutely they have consistent internal logic, a true conflict and seem as though I know them. But it's not as good as..." Other authors don't have to meet that standard. If Last Night's Scandal was by B.J. McHappenstance, I think I'd be hailing the new Genre Queen and Expecting Great Things and Raving Like a Loon. (Olivia, the heroine of Last Night's Scandal writes like I do. It made me love her even more.) Instead the reaction is "Well, that was good." And it was. It was very, very good indeed.

Olivia is bored in the confines of her life. An active mind in a beautiful body, she's delighted when her best friend, the Earl of Lisle, returns from Egypt for a family event. They are the oldest of friends. Comfortable with each other, Olivia and Lisle perfectly portray that ease you have with someone you trust completely. For poor Lisle, Olivia has gone and become a girl. How can you act the same way with a girl? It's a problem. His solution is to return to Egypt, but his parents have other plans. Before you can say Slacker Angst, Lisle has had the financial plug pulled on his dreams. Lisle is a pitch perfect despondent young man. He wallows, he whines (just a bit), he says "Parents!" in the sort of tone one uses. It's up to Olivia to fix things, and her solution involves a trip to Scotland, a decaying castle, a hidden treasure and a... actually no. Not a wedding. Olivia isn't interested in being Lisle's rich bride or his benefactor. She's his friend. She's willing to consider friends with benefits, but she's not looking to marry Lisle to make his life easier.

Here is what I really liked about Last Night's Scandal. Olivia is the rare heroine who worries about the rest of her life. Sure she loves Lisle, he's her best friend. That doesn't mean they can make each other happy. Olivia actually takes the time to consider both their needs and the ability of either of them to meet them. I loved her. Lisle is just as wonderful. Together I could have read about them all night. From any other author this would be a book to exclaim over. From Loretta Chase, it's just a good book.

Review: One Touch of Scandal by Liz Carlyle

Never taunt your TBR pile, kids.

After the awesome read that was Wicked All Day, I was unprepared for One Touch of Scandal. This is one of those reviews where anything you say (no matter how true to your feelings) seems mean. I hated it so much I'm sorry there's a sequel. And perhaps the author feels the same way because the book advertised in the back of One Touch of Scandal, the serially named One Wicked Glance has been renamed The Bride Wore Scarlet (to be followed by The Bride Wore Pearls). Although Amazon sells One Touch of Scandal, you won't find it on their Complete List of Liz Carlyle Books nor is it listed on Amazon's Liz Carlyle Page. Unless you search by title, Amazon goes directly from Wicked All Day to The Bride Wore Scarlet without a book between. (They tried to warn me I suppose) I have an ARC of The Bride Wore Scarlet, so I'll report back next month on that.

On the positive side, our hero Ruthveyn's mother was from India. His heritage is handled fairly well (although of course he's into tantric sex). Our heroine had a French father so she gets her share of exotic in as well. Neither of them slip into offensive territory or use heritage as a substitute for character. There is also a nice scene at a tomb where Grace gives in to grief after being snubbed by the family of her former fiance. It's a bit odd that she just accepts the snubbing (time and again) for as long as she does but we will give her that - she is in mourning after all.

Ok, that's it. We've covered the parts I liked. There's a murder and it's only a mystery to the characters in the book. If you haven't figured out who did the deed by the end of the first chapter this might be your first time. In fact, the murderer seemed so obvious I thought it was a red herring and became annoyed as the clues toward that presumed red herring built up. But whatever, dead guy, suspicion, Grace on the run. She runs right into a (get ready) Super Secret Society of Psychics. No, this isn't a Jayne Ann Krentz book. Yes I know Liz Carlyle is better than that, but apparently a deep seated need to write about pseudo Masons and the Chosen Ones overtook her.  It's not paranormal, it's not steampunk, it's not even butter. I described it elsewhere as stumbling into a bad cosplay event where people were trying to bend spoons with their minds. I meant it. This is the lamest Boys Only, Girls Are Too Loud secret society ever. At one point Grace tries to tell Ruthveyn's sister that she's not psychic when the sister is all "Don't you find you are a good judge of people? AHA! You are just untrained!" I half expected her to add "And can't you always smell when the cookies are burning? AHA!" 

Right. So Ruthveyn finds Grace extra hot because he can't tell when she's going to die or what she's thinking (his super powers) meaning she might be his soul mate! I agree that seeing how someone dies whenever you touch them has to be unsettling at best, but this is one of my least favorite coupling tricks. "I understand you less than anyone else I know - I must have you!" For her part, Grace wants a family. Any family. A dog, a few kids, she just wants to get away from her Aunt and stay away. Ruthveyn will do just fine even before they find out... look, if telling you they are related is going to spoil the book for you then I have done you a favor. Grace has blood heritage to the Super Secrets too! Decoder rings for everyone!

I was done long before Ruthveyn cured his long standing drug use (he charms Grace with a Snoop Doggy Dawg imitation) via one night of sex. I was done before he caught a friend in a compromising position with a tabloid reporter and dealt with it by thinking sure, maybe they'd done some crazy stuff they'd both like to forget during those opium orgies back in the day but no way did that make anyone gay! Then Grace agrees. She knows that guy as well and no way is he gay. Not him. Nuh-uh. Look how upset he is at almost kissing a girl! Um, I mean, boy! There's more to that, for sure! What could it be? What? What could it be!

I'm hoping The Bride Wore Scarlet is significantly more enjoyable than One Touch of Scandal was. We're going to start with two problems. One is it being a sequel to this mess. The other is that Carlyle apparently ties her paranormal world into her previously established non paranormal families. I like Liz Carlyle, I'm pulling for her on this one, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared.

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: Wicked All Day by Liz Carlyle

Finally!

I knew if I excavated the TBR Pile Of 2009 that eventually my patience would be rewarded. Whew. I was starting to fear I'd entered some odd black hole of genre quality, but Liz Carlyle saved me. Remember when I was expressing my distaste of the hermetically sealed heroine? Zoe Armstrong is anything but a shining example of rectitude. I'm kind of going to gush, so let's get the negative out of the way early. Why does a heroine with sexual agency so often have the uncaring whore for a mother? You don't need Mommy Issues to get your freak on. (Not that Zoe is that freaky, except for the whole brothers thing.)

Alright, let's just get into it. Zoe's mom was a paid sex worker, I mean mistress, of her father. She wasn't even English! (Eye roll for hot blooded as veiled racism / race diversity allusions.) She happily traded infant Zoe for a roll of banknotes and went on with her life. (I feel another essay coming on here - it would detail the glorification and victimization of women in the sex trade by genre convention. Hey, why don't you go read Girls Like Us by Rachel Lloyd instead? Save us both.) So Zoe is parked with some less than interested child care workers and the result is that even after the application of a caring step mother Zoe is a woman who has decided to live down to the expectations of others. You want sexy? You want scandal? You want self destruction? Zoe's got it.

On the other side of the coin is Stuart, known as Mercer since he attained his title as a boy. A distant cousin, Mercer has stood outside the circle of Zoe's childhood bond with his brother Robin. First too old to be interested, then old enough to know better,  Mercer has long viewed Zoe as the addiction he just can't afford. Often stepping in to keep her from destroying herself, Mercer keeps her on the edge of ruin until the night he finds her half dressed and straddling his brother at a party. Zoe and Robin have already realized they don't actually want to have angry sex, but it's too late. Marriage surely follows such an indiscretion. A seasoned genre reader cynically expects this to be the point at which Mercer steps up to offer himself as the sacrificial spouse, but Carlyle isn't letting anyone off that easily.

Robin and Zoe retire to their own private hell as the cost of their self destructive impulse plays out in both their lives. Mercer can only stand by and watch them both fall apart. Despite their deep love they do not make a healthy pair. It's that exploration of a bad romance that makes Wicked All Day so refreshing. Zoe does not castigate herself for stepping outside of her engagement with Robin for a few moments with Mercer because she abhors her sexuality, she castigates herself for her disloyalty. Mercer does not express anger at Zoe for her physical impulses, he is angry at her lack of foresight and her unerring ability to diminish herself through her romantic partners. Robin is not evil, or cunning, he's just wrong for Zoe and she for him. It was refreshing to read about reality based conflict in a romance about personal growth where there are neither saints nor sinners, just people finding their way. (Ok, I take it back. There is a saint and a sinner both in Wicked All Day, but neither of them are members of the primary triangle.)

I've got another Carlyle in my TBR and one in my ARC stash. We might be on a roll here. Unfortunately, Wicked All Day is Agency. You can order the e-book for $8 USD or a paper copy for $3 shipped. (I can't help publishers that don't want my help. Would that be Publishers Anonymous or Agency Anonymous? It is to ponder.)

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.

The New Baby: Sony PRS-350

It wasn't planned.

Please don't think that makes the PRS-350 unwanted, but sometimes things happen when you don't expect them. (I was sober. I swear.) Like all unplanned events, this one has a long story attached. Short version is I decided not to take Ozymandius (iPad) on the road, but I was afraid that Baby (Sony 505) would be under constant siege. My plan was to borrow a 505 from someone who was selling theirs, but I was too slow. This left me two options - buy a second e-reader (selling whichever one I like least on my return) or suffer the perils of one e-reader for four travelers. There wasn't really a choice.

Well, ok, there was. Did I get the Kindle?  Did I get it with offers? Did I go for a Nook, despite my desire to never use B&N as a supplier? Should I just take Ozy on the road? If I did buy a Kindle, should I get it from Amazon? From Target? There was much debate. Like all things, it came down to love. (It would have to. Sony markets these things like Hipsters advertise bars. If you want to buy one you'd better know the secret handshake and the unmarked door.) I love my Sony 505. It has given me very little trouble despite the long hours I make it work. While I was going to side load anything I bought (I'm a stripper, I don't have time to screw with permissions and passwords and clouds and what not. I paid for it, I'll store it, thank you very much) the history I had with my 505 made me consider another Sony and the PRS-350 was in my price category. ($120 if you must know.) Until I picked it up, I thought I was going to buy a Kindle. You may remember that I was not that impressed with these touch screen units when they came out. The screen on the 350 seemed too small and the 650 was too buggy as a touch screen. I hadn't been impressed enough to walk away from Baby. Thinking about traveling made me look at the Sony Pocket differently.

This baby is light. It's not as small as I had recalled, more the size of a 1944 paperback in it's face. (What you don't read vintage? '44 was a great year.) Being left handed, the location of the page turning buttons was ideal for one handed reading. (Not like that! OMG are you at the wrong blog. Move along.) The touch screen solved an embarrassing problem I'd developed since using Ozy as my primary reader. When I was with Baby I kept smacking it in the face as though it would do something. Suddenly, scrolling seemed so last century and tedious. PRS-350 may not be as responsive as Ozy, but it does the job. We haven't been together long enough for cute little pet names, but I can already tell that Baby is halfway out the door. (I may not bother opening that leather cover I got it.) PRS-350 fits nicely in a Tokidoki for Sephora zip top pouch, making it compliment any bag I carry (since I have a well documented Tokidoki Problem). The screen is so much clearer than Baby. It's not perfect, it still requires a decent light for reading (unlike Ozy, who is ready to go anytime, anywhere) but it's so much better. Baby requires a full font size higher to be clear. I'd tell Baby I don't have a favorite, but I'd be lying. If PRS-350 travels well, it's getting a pet name and a permanent home. Shh. Baby doesn't know yet.

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.

Summer Is All About Reruns

Mergers, a photo by meoskop on Flickr.

I'm still doing the whole get over cancer thing, so the TBR reviews will continue. Hm, I should phrase that differently because I am already over cancer. So over it. Over, over, over. Stick a fork in cancer, because it's done.   (I just need my stitches to get the memo.) It's also summer, which means there is a gazebo or two out there with my name on it. Maybe even this one. If there's a gap here or there, a lack of comments, a bizarre run of random reading - blame it on the folly. I certainly will.