"We're taught that the most important thing we can contribute to the world is our beauty, our thinness. This saps our energy, our brainpower, our inte"We're taught that the most important thing we can contribute to the world is our beauty, our thinness. This saps our energy, our brainpower, our internal fight. It makes us feel crazy, as if our bodies are enemies, our own minds cannot be trusted. We cannot take on the world for we are too busy battling ourselves."
In this latest iteration of dystopia, Flesh Martyrdom is the religion that holds sway. Where so many cultures we're familiar with might put taboos on the discussion and performance of sex, in this world, eating for pleasure holds that position. So while sexual activity is open and unremarkable, a teenager exploring cooking would be labeled as a deviant.
In the corporate town of Seagate, we meet Beatrice, just such a teenager who can't seem to stop herself from wanting to enjoy food. Her community is a sort of cult version of Flesh Martyrdom, one where everyone takes pills to limit their hunger, one where people do penance for gaining weight-- a surefire sign that someone has been enjoying food. Beatrice starts buying black market recipes and experimenting in small ways with cooking. She imagines a future where she can safely cook in the comfort of her own home, but when her serious girlfriend acts disgusted to have the precious secret revealed to her, Beatrice needs to find a new path forward to embracing her dream, one outside Seagate.
Our other protagonist is Reiko. She's one of the Free-Wah people, who were colonized by and don't follow the Flesh Martyrdom nonsense. We meet her as she arrives at university on scholarship. She's a brilliant artist incorporating sound and technology into her work. At school, she occupies a liminal space between the more affluent students who don't have to work as hard and her family members who don't understand what she does all day. When her scholarship is taken away for no apparent reason, a trap meant to put her in debt so she can finish her degree, Reiko turns her genius toward other means of securing a future for herself.
In part two, we get a story within a story as both characters are introduced to a banned book, "The Kitchen Girl," that rewrites the founding myth of Flesh Martyrdom from someone who lived it and *gasp* cooked through it. The characters are each at a turning point, and The Kitchen Girl ushers them into the next phase of their lives. In part three, we see where all this change has led them, and we get a brief moment of intersection, though for most of the book, their lives have run in distant parallel. It's a satisfying way to end the story, though there is still a level of open-endedness. As climate change bears down on the civilization and the ultra-wealthy and the corporations they serve are on the precipice of getting ultra-wealthier, even worthy acts of rebellion may seem small in comparison. The mirror to our own existence is crystal clear.
The book is interesting for how it reinforces societal expectations of food and body image while also inverting them by putting them in the place of sexual taboos with all their severity. The fight for thinness will feel familiar, but the push to remove eating from public spaces and from life entirely feels bizarre. Sex takes the place of food in public places, including a court at the mall and the expectation that a wife will serve as hostess in orgies rather than dinner parties. Meanwhile, information on food is severely limited, so those who want to explore it are often met with misinformation or dangerous back channels to find out more. Restaurants, though technically allowed, are considered dens of vice that no moral person would frequent. That tension made for an interesting space to think.
There are also some interesting queer elements to the book. For one, the world is sex-positive in pretty much any way that can be interpreted, including a wider variety of people deemed "normal" than in modern Western societies. In terms of our main characters, Beatrice has had a variety of sexual relationships, as is expected in her community. We see her have her first truly romantic experience as the plot unfolds. It's sapphic and a bit tragic since she is so innocently eager to share her secret hobby, only to find no support. For Reiko's part, I think she's on the ace spectrum. She's decided not to push herself into having sex when she's not interested, a decision that earns her the moniker "frigid," which may feel familiar to ace readers even in our less sex-motivated reality. Over the course of the book, we see Reiko sometimes have an active interest in sex but more frequently allows it to happen to get something different that she wants. Her lack of openness to having sex with just anyone is seen as a challenge by a certain type of swaggering man, which can put her in danger. Her experience just goes to show that a certain brand of sex positivity doesn't actually welcome everyone, particularly ace people.
This was a hard book to read in terms of thinking about its greater implications and looking toward the future. That being said, the writing is smooth and easy to follow. I also think that it could have been a lot bleaker than it actually is (thank goodness for small mercies). If I happened to bring my own personal brand of hopelessness to what the author has to say, that's on me. There is a smidgen of hope offered at the end, though nothing too perfect or too out-of-reach. Thanks to Saga for my copy to read and review!...more
Oh, boy. So. In this marriage-in-trouble romance, Seraphina, Duchess of Haven, nee Talbot, fled her husband in the wake of a miscarriage-- the final nOh, boy. So. In this marriage-in-trouble romance, Seraphina, Duchess of Haven, nee Talbot, fled her husband in the wake of a miscarriage-- the final nail in the coffin of their marriage (so you know, content warning on that one pretty much immediately). We're familiar with the couple from earlier in the series. A previous protagonist (and Seraphina's little sister) walked in on the Duke committing adultery (next content warning) during his wife's pregnancy and pushed him into a koi pond. While I enjoyed this past moment of petty and deserved violence, it made me ill-disposed to seeing a romance rekindled between Duke and Duchess.
It turns out the crux of Malcolm's hatred for his wife is the fact that she comes from a family of perceived social climbers, and Seraphina "caught" him, much as his horrible mother once caught his father. The parallel is so destructive, running rampant through his insecurities, that he behaved cruelly to his new wife, including the adultery, etc. Never mind that they were in love, he's blind to any explanation that isn't "cold-hearted entrapment."
At the beginning of this book, Seraphina shows up in London seeking a divorce after over two years apart. She's opening a pub after several successful ventures in Boston. The problem is that without a divorce, she can't own a business for herself in truth. She shows up prepared to do whatever it takes to see their union dissolved, including lying about her relationship with her best friend and business partner to rile up Malcolm and provide grounds for the divorce that might motivate him. And while your girl has read some jealousy plots that really fanned the flames in a gratifying way, the Duke (who I already hate) has such a possessive streak that there was no fun to be had in seeing him stomp around and threaten his presumed rival. Like, ugh, he's such a caveman. Even if he wasn't a damn cheat purely to hurt her, I'd dislike him. When he reminds her that her marriage vows were "to obey," I desperately needed someone to kick his ass. Where's a koi pond with an audience when you need one? Maybe we could find one a bit deeper this time.
We're "treated" to flashbacks of Malcolm and Seraphina's original courtship and subsequent immolation. In the present, Malcolm sets out to recapture his wife by telling her she has to matchmake him with a new duchess before he'll let her go. The scheme is meant to guarantee proximity for six weeks so he can win her back. Bleh. I can't help but think that if it weren't for the specifics of the Duke in question, the setup (worthy of its own reality TV show) should have been hilarious. A woman matchmaking her husband away so she can get a divorce, only to fall back in love with him? Absurd and glorious. And yet. If it's a man she should very much WANT to get away from, it ruins the whole scheme.
This trilogy started off rocky for me, and it's been a downward slide ever since. I found nothing redeemable about the romance and would recommend it to exactly 0 people. Everyone reasonable keeps assuring me it's the next trilogy where I can again find the experience I know and love from Hell's Belles. All I can say at this point is, please let that be so....more
In this bite-sized, slice-of-life romance novella, Janelle and Andre show up at the animal shelter in a cosmic crossing of wires to adopt the same dogIn this bite-sized, slice-of-life romance novella, Janelle and Andre show up at the animal shelter in a cosmic crossing of wires to adopt the same dog. Both are too stubborn and too desperate to let go of Zeus and wait for a different dog that suits their needs to become available. The fact of the matter is that both have already fallen in love with this adorable creature, and they're not going to back down over even such a major inconvenience. Initially suggested in jest, they come to the actually very serious conclusion that they ought to co-parent this dog. It smooths the way that both were already committed to using the same vet, the same dog trainer, and the same no-nonsense but loving attitude to dogs on human furniture (not allowed). They even decide to share Zeus' new Instagram account, where eagle-eyed social media fans of Andre's comics start shipping them together, even his sister.
This is a sweet, easy romance between two people who have hard times in their rear view. The loneliness that drove both of them to seek out a canine companion also plays into how easy it is for them to fall into something together. After some pointed interference from Andre's sister (both cyber and in person), they admit a mutual attraction and try dating on for size. There's no messy breakup, no crying into their ice cream, no calling of names. Instead, we just get to see two cool people build a family together with their dog, work on their art, and communicate well. What a revelation, honestly.
This was my first experience with Rebekah Weatherspoon, and I am certainly motivated to seek out some of her full-length novels in the future....more
Penvale is desperate for the return of his ancestral and childhood home, Trethwick Abbey, even if that means buying it back from his uncle with an unuPenvale is desperate for the return of his ancestral and childhood home, Trethwick Abbey, even if that means buying it back from his uncle with an unusual addendum. He'll marry his uncle's troublesome ward, and then the house is his. This marriage of convenience means something to Jane, too. She's eager to get out from under her guardian's thumb and figures that she can worry about running off her husband once that first step is accomplished.
The two meet only once before marrying, solely because Penvale wants to verify that this mysterious young woman isn't being married off against her will. Nothing less would stop him from getting the house-- even his uncle's references to its newly haunted status. While it's apparent that Jane is entering into the union of her own free will, her awkwardness skewing into rudeness sets the tone between them. Neither aspires for something more romantic to develop once their vows are said. After the bare minimum of wedding festivities, they set off for their beloved home. On the road, they experience one of the least romantic "only one bed" scenarios I've yet come across, complete with cold feet and a fight for the blankets.
Jane takes advantage of her intimate knowledge of Trethwick Abbey's secret passageways to mount a haunting attack on her new husband, much as she did to rid herself of an irksome guardian. With help from the staff, she ruins Penvale's sleep and sends him running through hallways in the dead of night to chase ghostly wails. Meanwhile, Penvale adopts a "keep your enemies closer" approach to Jane during hauntings once he suspects her involvement, but her team of theatrical ghosts means that both of them are running on very little sleep. As they fake investigate together and settle in at the Abbey, their pointed dislike of one another (particularly from Jane's end) starts to soften. Though they continue to banter, it takes on more of a fun tone, and their arguments lead to resolutions.
I appreciated Jane's neurodivergent coded energy. While the characters conclude that she's shy, it strikes me as more than that. She avoids groups of people, eye contact, and charming small talk like the plague. When she can ignore her husband with a book, she does. When she can startle someone into leaving her alone, she does that, too. And even when she intends to win someone over, her blunt delivery and general displeasure in company lead to the same result.
I might love the Jane/Diana banter between reluctant sisters-in-law with matching acid tongues even more than that between Jane and Penvale, which I was certainly a fan of. It makes me eager to dive into the author's backlist and read Diana's tale. It's worth mentioning that my favorite bit of back-and-forth between our lovers has to do with whether Penvale needs spectacles (he does). A stubbornly near-sighted husband is certainly easier to fake haunt, though. This is such a bonkers, fun historical romance. Thanks to Atria for my copy to read and review!...more
We meet Peeraphan on the stage, preparing to dance in some supernaturally mesmerizing red shoes. Bennett is the first vampire to arrive on the scene, We meet Peeraphan on the stage, preparing to dance in some supernaturally mesmerizing red shoes. Bennett is the first vampire to arrive on the scene, intent on retrieving these killer fairy tale objects. Seeing them on Peeraphan's feet, he resigns himself to another victim claimed by the shoes. When she stops dancing for a rehearsal break, everything changes. Somehow, she's resisting their curse to dance into oblivion. When he approaches, Peeraphan can't help but feel a smidgeon of hope at encountering another non-human being for the first time. Unfortunately, another vampire arrives, and a fight for the shoes ensues. That's how we find Peeraphan leading a victorious but bleeding-out Bennett back to the secret mansion hideout of the Darke Consortium still in her red dancing shoes. She offers up blood to the vampire that saved her life to even the scales. Exhausted and unable to remove the shoes, she settles in for a stay that will change her life and finally see some of her questions about herself answered.
Peeraphan is a kinnaree, a bird princess from Thai myth. Her family wasn't able to tell her much about what that means, so she hopes that the Consortium's massive library can fill in some of the gaps. As the Consortium tries to figure out how to safely remove the shoes, Peeraphan's increasing brushes with the supernatural bring out some of her latent abilities and give her clues about a broader community she belongs to. All the while, the shoes literally try to walk her into danger with increasing fervor, so the clock is ticking to save her life. The other vampire and the organization he represents continue their pursuit, adding another dose of intensity to the situation.
It's a whirlwind romance, but it doesn't shirk on communication or true bonding. One of my favorite parts is how Bennett seeks Peeraphan's full name rather than taking the easy route of using the childhood nickname (Punch) that most people prefer. For another thing, I'm no stranger to domineering ancient men in paranormal romance, but in this one, Peeraphan's takedown of his assumed power dynamic is satisfying-- and that's not a given outcome, even when we see a character make the effort. I think paranormal romances should be headed in this direction when it comes to inclusivity and humanity, i.e. fangs aren't a reason to ignore consent and get all possessive. At the same time, this isn't the most fulfilling romance I've read when it comes to sweeping, emotional arcs and tantalizing spice. I think it would take a longer book with more attention to detail to achieve those ends. I liked both leads and their dynamic, so no major facelift is required there.
The speed of the story was an issue for me beyond the romance. There are things about Peeraphan's past we never learn including her job, who she considers family, and any friends she may have. It's preferable to an info dump and fits the story of how she's kept her life small to protect herself. All the same, I think the information we have on either her or Bennett is a bit surface-level even before you consider their relationship.
I recommend this one to readers who are interested in paranormal romance that draws on familiar tropes while expanding the lore and injecting some restorative feminism. Thanks to Sourcebooks Casablanca for my copy to read and review!...more
"It's too early to be laughing... Save your levity for business hours."
Verity Plum, bookseller and printer, feels like her whole life now revolves aro"It's too early to be laughing... Save your levity for business hours."
Verity Plum, bookseller and printer, feels like her whole life now revolves around reining in her brother, Nate, who resents such interference. The problem is that in his railing against the government's tyranny in print, he's on a path to get hanged (or worse) for sedition. While Verity shares his views, she wants him to express them in a way that doesn't get him killed. She's relieved when their best friend Ash comes home, not only for their own friendship but for the calming influence he typically has on Nate. She's no longer in this battle alone, bitter from being reasonable and being treated like a shrew for it (a big energy that I related to in a major way).
For Ash's part, each homecoming lodging with the Plums is a balancing act where he attempts to keep his friendships alive with both siblings without disrupting their bond in the process-- a tiring pursuit of diplomacy. Also on his mind this time around is his friend and mentor's last desperate departure to Italy to try and turn his health around. Ash knows he'll likely never see Roger again, his condition constantly deteriorating with no real cure. The reason that Ash couldn't go with him is the same reason that forces Ash to be as careful as Verity in what he prints as an artist. His seizure condition makes boat travel untenable, and he wouldn't survive prison.
I love how, in a Cat Sebastian book, finding yourself secretly in line to a dukedom is not a cause for celebration but the source of much doom and gloom for our characters. They're radicals! Humble artisans! What an embarrassment to find yourself a member of the aristocracy. Ash's journey to reconcile himself with a rocky history that's been out of his reach for most of his life makes for a compelling side plot while the romance kicks up its anticipated waves of drama.
The book leans into some truly excellent self-flagellation. Mix pining and years of friendship with a project editing and illustrating an illegal pornographic book (which Verity probably needs to read out loud to Ash at some point). Imagine a man afraid to be left and a woman afraid of wasting away once she's given all of her best to others. They both have resisted their attraction for years, expecting that nothing good would come of it. But with Nate shipped away for his own safety and Ash facing his daunting change in circumstance, suddenly, all their reasons and distractions don't make quite so compelling a counter-argument.
One of the most romantic things to me in this story (beyond the general feeling of how well they know one another and how deeply motivated they are to take care of one another no matter the circumstance) is an innocuous detail that's all the more swoon-worthy for its mundanity. Verity is too focused on work and too disinterested in taming her hair to keep up with her unruly tresses. Ash starts carrying around her misplaced hairpins for when she needs them, and I just. THIS. THIS is romance, people.
It's Cat Sebastian, so we know it's queer! Verity's bi, and she had a previous liaison with a woman known in this series' universe. So that's a fun connection point. Her identity comes up in a couple of ways that I found especially excellent. For one, she expresses shock at the discovery that everyone isn't secretly bi. She assumed straightness was just the result of oppression (not sure she's strictly wrong, but...). Also, she makes the valid point that though she could be attracted to anyone, men get in their own way by being so damn annoying. It makes it extra special that Ash is her best friend and keeps making choices she finds actually unannoying. Who could fight against those odds?
I love the way our characters grow together and come to a new understanding. I love how well they see each other and the long history (complete with excellent, time-worn banter and inside jokes) that they're able to turn into something that brings them even more joy. It's the kind of book that reminds me why friends-to-lovers romances can be so good....more
Penny has been waiting for years for her chance to become a witch or warlock's familiar, but with a long waiting list stretching in front of her, she'Penny has been waiting for years for her chance to become a witch or warlock's familiar, but with a long waiting list stretching in front of her, she's starting to fear she'll never make the cut. Penny is a chipper rule follower who treasures her role as secretary for the Society of Familiars, though her title belies the fact that she practically runs her local chapter. With that kind of mentality, it's almost unthinkable that she'd break the organization's bylaws and threaten any future chance at becoming a familiar... unless the opportunity were too catastrophically seismic to pass up. Penny's friend approaches with an under-the-table offer to work for a warlock currently serving a 33-year familiar ban. Willem is itching to be back to full power, especially while a former mentor stalks him and threatens him over some stolen books. Penny agrees to be his familiar, anyway, but they'll need to protect themselves. For that, she proposes a fake dating cover story that approximately no one will believe. Between his power and his glower, cheerful nobody Penny is as unlikely a match as they come.
The previous book in this series took a minute to grow on me, but grow it did. That encouraged me to stick with this one when I wasn't feeling a spark yet a third of the way in. Penny's persona takes itself to a grating level (she frequently exclaims oh em gee or double-ew tee eff), but at least Willem is on the same page on that one. Let's not let him off the hook, though. His final defeat before taking Penny on is an attempt to get a job doing corporate espionage, etc., for oil magnates, which is so deeply not a good look. I put a pin in that in the hopes we were headed toward some drastic personal growth. The jury's out on that one.
The spice is very much a factor in this book, which I expected after reading the first in the series. Where things fell short for me was on the more romantic side. It hits some similar beats as Go Hex Yourself (brooding man meets unappreciated woman) without the same oomph and without the same journey for the characters. The shift from "fake dating while barely tolerating each other" to "fully obsessed with each other and kind of into exhibitionism and possibly a breeding kink" is abrupt. And that's even before "I love yous" are thrown around. I had a problem with exactly 0 of these things, but I just felt like it was a bit thrown together as an overall experience.
I enjoyed aspects of this one, but I think both the characters and the romance didn't fully live up to their potential. Readers looking for that unserious witchy romance vibe should definitely pick up this duology, I just might recommend the first one with more conviction. Thanks to Berkley for my copy to read and review!...more
I've got to be honest. A plot where "he's too hot" is a main source of a man's trauma is hard for me to get behind. In this story, Alec Stuart has a rI've got to be honest. A plot where "he's too hot" is a main source of a man's trauma is hard for me to get behind. In this story, Alec Stuart has a reasonable concern about how the so-called polite society in London reacts to his Scottishness, but he also has a killer bod, which means women objectify him rather than seeking out an emotional connection. And like, that's a real thing that I don't mean to belittle, but also...
Lilian Hargrove is also apparently too hot for her own good, or so the story goes. In a tale that might not be as old as time but certainly has modern relevance, Lily fell for the wrong man because she thought he was offering companionship to a friendless orphan who desperately wanted to be close to someone. The man in question was an artist who really only sought a muse. Lily modeled for a nude painting he promised would remain private. Instead, he made a spectacle of his plans to share it with the whole world for personal acclaim. Lily, thus ruined, finds herself not only heartbroken but also left to the whims of an unsuspecting guardian. Alec abruptly inherited her guardianship with his dukedom. Despite Lily's advanced age, her unmarried status leaves her as part of Alec's previously unknowing responsibility. Only the scandal of a lifetime could force the solicitor to bring her to Alec's attention after he so clearly indicated his animosity toward any ducal duties in London.
This is a classic case of an author repeating her protagonists' issues ad nauseam. Alec feels unworthy because he's been stereotyped and demeaned, especially by women, in his past. Lily is lonely because she's a literal orphan with no one who loves her. Pretty easy to grasp, but you wouldn't know it for all the times it's laid out for the reader in excruciatingly obvious terms. YES, WE KNOW. CARRY ON. In addition, the romance feels like one of those stories where lust is dressed up as love. It doesn't help that we hear endlessly about how attractive both parties are. In their mere week of acquaintance, they argue, he tries to control her under the guise of protecting her, and they both long for each other but hold back due to the past issues mentioned above. Alec insists on wielding his guardianship to try and marry Lily off and ensure her happiness, even when she throws herself into arguing against it. And somehow, in the midst of all of that, they fall in love, or so we're told. I just didn't buy it. If I'd been into the romance, there were other little comedic flourishes in the story I can tell I would have liked, such as Alec's dogs and the absurd ducal townhomes he inherited.
Despite not being enamored with this one, I'm glad I read it through to the end. It's only in the final thirty pages that Alec's backstory is presented with any depth. I wish we'd had some of the context earlier, but I think it was meant to be more of a big-reveal moment. I'm not sure that I appreciate trauma being disclosed in a "shock and awe" style. On the other hand, the secrecy fed my assumptions, which I left at the beginning of this review to capture my feelings even though I was ultimately proven an ass, and I suppose gives the reader a better understanding of Lily's point of view since she's also left in the dark until that point. The story has a lot to say about shame that I think is good and important, but the characters get their wires crossed so many times as they go through their emotions that it takes the punch out of the message.
My big picture response to this book is that there were so many almost good things that were then squashed in the execution to the point that I couldn't enjoy or even appreciate them. Whether it was the romance, the humor, the characters, or any deeper message, I ended up too annoyed by any given component to save me from the others....more
When Toby punctuates his first encounter with Miles by stealing his watch and pocketbook, he simply delivers hi"Could we at least be lonely together?"
When Toby punctuates his first encounter with Miles by stealing his watch and pocketbook, he simply delivers his usual, affable mantra, "needs must" and carries on with life. His next scheme to put a roof over his head involves ingratiating himself with a newly hired valet and tagging along to see if the household might have a job for him. Unfortunately for Toby, it turns out that Miles is the newly minted Earl in question, and he's pretty pissed about being robbed blind. The two make an arrangement whereby Toby will work off his debt helping Miles to clear out his ancestral home. While Miles was off on the Continent fighting in the Napoleonic Wars, his father's hoarding and penny-pinching seems to have reached a frenzy. The house is a disaster, and Miles can't afford to pay for help. Though it hurts to see his inheritance laid low like this, it's also a threat his father once made seen through. For his past mistakes, he would never be welcomed home and never see a penny from his father. Now fatherless, Miles carries the shame of their unrepaired relationship and not much else.
Toby, for his part, knows he made a narrow escape. Not only will he avoid going in front of the magistrate for his thieving, but he has three meals a day and a place to sleep to look forward to. He's even surprised to discover that Miles has no intention of leveraging a physical relationship out of the deal. Miles is aware of the power dynamic and is careful to leave a respectable distance between himself and the charming, untrustworthy thief.
When Toby makes a discovery that reframes the late earl's actions, the two are drawn together in a new way. They work together to uncover his secrets and perhaps drag both their lives out of the muck in the process. Their companionship goes a long way toward easing each man's loneliness and giving them a new lease on life.
This is a short story, more cozy than angsty, but it still packs in some character development and feeling. I'm always that complainer who says I'd rather have had a full-length book with all the attendant nuance, but I still enjoyed listening to this one....more
The Duke of Wyatthaven (aka Wyatt) needs a bride on short notice. A clause was triggered in his grandmother's will that threatens to take Wyatt's inheThe Duke of Wyatthaven (aka Wyatt) needs a bride on short notice. A clause was triggered in his grandmother's will that threatens to take Wyatt's inheritance should he remain unwed and give it to his natural enemies, a society of poets (I'm not kidding). The man had a cruel instructor as a child that soured him to the whole mode of writing. Wyatt believes his perfect match is Fredericka because she also needs a husband for a pragmatic purpose. She is the guardian of her late sister's children, but a relative is seeking to take them away. As an unmarried lady, she stands little chance of preventing the theft in court. A marriage of convenience would protect both parties and allow them to carry on as usual. Apparently, Wyatt's shtick is that he gambles... for charity? And hers is that she's secretly a poet, a designation which you may recall immediately qualifies her to be Wyatt's nemesis.
The first thing I need to get off my chest about this book is that there are so. many. "feminine/masculine urges" even just in our protagonists' first meeting. And I kind of can't believe I had to put that in writing. There are also "womanly" sighs and "masculine" thoughts at the wedding because why not? A "masculine moan of anticipation" really takes the cake for annoyingly gendered phrases, though.
Thankfully, things improve after the initial info dump and the establishment of Wyatt and Fredericka's attraction in such audacious terms (see: masculine moan). That tension remains, but I love how the real undercurrent between them is this warm concern that they aren't so emotionally stunted as to hide from one another. Between that and the way that they have genuinely productive arguments, I appreciated their dynamic. I think the central conflict around their custody battle also adds a lot to their story. Not only are they tentatively trying to cobble together this little family, but they're also trying to protect it as Fredericka's cousin, Jane, mounts her smear campaign and does all in her power to wrest the children away.
Unfortunately, I was distracted from my ultimate approbation of our lovebirds by other weird things in the writing and plotting. For one thing, the tandem inclusion and avoidance of politics is weird. The author mentions Wyatt's party and ~the other party~ but doesn't name them, which strikes me as a jazz hands attempt to be apolitical. Wyatt plans to trade a political favor to ~the other party~ to protect the children with no consideration for the greater repercussions... but I suppose there aren't any in a book where we won't even name the groups involved or what they stand for.
My next issue is that the ending is anticlimactic. While I can appreciate a story where the supposed enemy turns out to be more complex than we were led to believe, in this case, it felt a bit convenient. I wonder if part of it comes down to incomplete writing. Early on, we're told that part of Jane's evil is that she wants to split up the children, but that claim is never addressed again. It's always about her intent to take them all, making unclear just how far she's willing to go or what her goal is. I also think scale is an issue. There's this final *shrug* of a feeling like we shouldn't hold Jane's childhood insecurities against her any more than we should Fredericka, but I think making them equal partners in the affair is unfair to our protagonist, who has held less power than her cousin over the course of their whole relationship and had little means to fight back. It's not all just pettiness, as Wyatt seems keen to paint it.
On that note, I don't love a book where one character (a non-professional) psychoanalyzes their partner's trauma, especially in an argument. Sometimes an outside perspective can help a person, but it's weird to see someone take the role of authority in dealing with someone else's family dynamic. I especially disliked, in this case, how Fredericka is made to feel like she doesn't love the children enough. It's accepted as fact by the end of the book that she'd been wrong about her own history and how to approach her wards. I like the idea of growing as a guardian and getting better without it being about how her husband taught her to be a better mother... he whose previous expertise on children comes from being one himself. This reframing downplays Fredericka's contributions to make it about how the children were miserable until Wyatt came along rather than taking the earlier offered route that he brought the family some much-needed balance. I also felt like Wyatt got to process his own grief, whereas Fredericka had it forced on her (by him).
My main issue with Fredericka is actually one that's not addressed. She feels guilty because she told her sister to go away with her husband to try and patch up their marriage, and they died after horrific food poisoning on their journey. Guilt isn't reasonable, so that's fair. My issue is that we later learn her sister was abused by her husband, something Fredericka suspected. This fact isn't factored into the other conversation, but it seems like it should be? She suggested her sister go on holiday with her abuser for the sake of their marriage. Now THAT is some fucked up shit. But it's like the author had one idea and then a different one without putting them together and examining the consequences. It feels like a plot hole more than a purposeful choice (I'm looking at you, haters who come for me for wanting historicals to have contemporary social mores).
This book had a spark of something interesting that was squashed under the weight of all the things that bothered me. I wish those factors could have been stripped away so I could focus on the found family at its core, but alas, here we are. Thanks to SMP Romance for my copy to read and review!...more
Alaine and Delphine Canner were raised on Prospect Hill, where the fae are close by and willing to bargain. Their grandmother taught them the rhymes aAlaine and Delphine Canner were raised on Prospect Hill, where the fae are close by and willing to bargain. Their grandmother taught them the rhymes and charms that signify all the safe, predictable bargains in her repertoire. Alaine, who now runs the family orchard, handles all the little bargains that keep things running-- asking for rain or not, for help finding a lost item, or for the hens to lay more eggs. Those bargains can't help her with her biggest challenge, though. It seems that her father and grandfather took out a loan in the 1890s, and last year's drought means they've fallen behind on payments. As Alaine and her husband fret over their options, Delphine prepares herself for the wedding that will launch her into a different social stratosphere. Though Delphine loves the family farm, she's always felt an accessory where Alaine is necessary. Marrying into the wealthy Grafton family means leaving home for a town twenty miles hence and establishing herself as a lady of society in Perrysburg.
I know enough about myself to expect that a book about fairy bargains is going to make me nervous. As our two sisters' paths diverge and Alaine sees no way forward except to stray outside her Gran's rules for bargaining, my anxiety started to ratchet up, and it became a continual climb as she finds new reasons to push the envelope. At first, I found that series of events even more stressful than the story of how Delphine learns the hard way what it really means to be a society wife. Her freedoms are curtailed, her relationships managed, and her opinions squashed. Both stories deteriorate to the point that I was equally and egregiously stressed at all times. It was almost a relief to have the consequences of it all come to light with a third of the book left. It becomes time to jump into action and do something about the mess. Then we get to see Fae Court politics with a deeper dive into what makes them tick and what bargains mean to them. We enter their twisted world and learn all it takes to go up against it.
I love the historical detail in this book, which includes economic concerns like the labor movement and political ones like the suffrage movement (obviously intertwined and complex). The author avoids the obvious road in ways that I think give the story more texture. For example, our leading ladies have complicated feelings about suffrage and don't share the same thoughts. Delphine is shocked to discover that suffragists have anything more to say than talking about the vote, which not only speaks to how that movement ignored women's realities to focus on one issue as a cohesive message but also how specific women agitating at the grassroots level could be a different story rather than parroting the party line. I also appreciate that the book takes place in a sort of Midwestern backwater from a point of personal validation as well as an interest in something fresh. A lot of politicking and social nonsense happens just about anywhere, the local scale making it no less important for everyday lives. We see Alaine rise to the presidency in the local chapter of the Agricultural Society, which has a collectivist bent. We see the sisters seek out the intricacies of their legal rights when they need them most and discover how convoluted and messy it can be for women to claim those rights. We also see how much family matters in determining a woman's quality of life.
While I found this a stressful experience, I think this book has a lot of interesting things to say and makes for a carefully considered work of historical fantasy. For readers who enjoy that blend of social commentary and fantastical elements, this one's for you. And for women who want to see more stories where we resist and make space for ourselves against steep odds, it's for us, too. Thanks to Redhook for my copy to read and review!...more
In Count Your Lucky Stars, Olivia and Margot collide after eleven years of literal and figurative distance. Former best friends, the two gave in to thIn Count Your Lucky Stars, Olivia and Margot collide after eleven years of literal and figurative distance. Former best friends, the two gave in to their mutual attraction during spring break of their senior year-- only for a miscommunication over text to drive a seemingly insurmountable wedge between them. Both walked away assuming their feelings were unrequited. Margot went on to become the lovable side character on the fringes of the previous romances in this series-- a bit belligerent, fiercely loyal, and unmotivated by finding her OTP, much to Brendon's chagrin. Liv married her high school sweetheart, "compromised" until she'd given up too much of herself in the process, and finally got divorced after ten grueling years together. Now she's in Seattle, finally following her dream to be an event planner. When she gets her big break planning Brendon and Annie's wedding (see: the rest of the series), she comes face to face with Margot, Best Woman. What follows is an unexpected roomie relationship that offers all the forced proximity that two ladies with a lot of baggage could require. As the wedding approaches, the two embark on a friends-with-benefits adventure that fuels both of their anxiety. Since each is confident that the other harbors no romantic feelings, they keep it all under wraps while breaking their own hearts.
I love this series, and I think this one just fell short for me because it's a mix of some of my least favorite tropes. Though the author does an admirable job filling in Margot and Liv's history so we feel a part of the whole thing, I still had that feeling I get with second-chance stories like I'm being stuck with more angst than I know what to do with. Add that to the fact that our ladies are acting easy breezy beautiful to hide how on edge and hopeless they feel about a future together, and I was a bit of a mess myself. While sometimes I think that's part of the rom-com experience, other times (like this one), I feel it outweighs the positive moments I get with the story. Also, the miscommunication in their past is UNREAL, and the power it holds over them as adults is likewise outsized and annoying.
I also want to go on a little rant about Brendon. He made me batty as a side character in the first book, and I was shocked to see him grow and redeem himself as a protagonist in the second. Imagine my horror to see him resume his status as a meddling ass in book three like he never learned a lesson or received a reality check. Instead, his own happily ever after only serves to make him oblivious to his supposed best friend's emotional state and renders him incapable of imagining that someone else's life couldn't be improved with a love story of his engineering. *end rant*
One of the biggest positives for me was each character's solo journey, facilitated by being back in each other's lives. Bellefleur has a knack for telling stories about hitting confusing, emotionally fraught crossroads in life, and Margot's is no exception. More and more, she feels left out of her friend group and like it would make her friends' lives easier if she were in a couple, too. Meanwhile, Liv is still dealing with the toxicity of her marriage. Her ex won't stop calling for help with mundane tasks he should be able to do for himself as an adult person, and she takes the same "path of least resistance" approach she did when she was his wife, prolonging his place in her life though she doesn't want it to be so. I also want to point out that the book features no final act breakup, just their first big fight, and I think that strikes the right balance for me as a reader. It's a fraught moment of reckoning and growth that doesn't take things too far just for the sake of it.
This is an excellent queer romance (Margot's pan and Liv is "not straight" and honestly good for them both) for readers who like second-chance romances, friends-with-benefits, and/or pining mixed in with forced proximity. It's an angsty love story that takes you on quite the journey, and I'm glad to have read this whole series....more
Tru wants nothing more than to give her daughter, Delia, a fabulous season that ensures her future happiness. This has not been her own experience, anTru wants nothing more than to give her daughter, Delia, a fabulous season that ensures her future happiness. This has not been her own experience, and she wants better for Delia. The Countess of Chatham, unfortunately, still has her husband to contend with, and he wants his daughter settled with someone who can refill the family coffers he so easily empties. That means pairing her up with a man with plenty of (new) money at hand willing to buy a title through marriage. Jasper Thorne's looking to find a sparkly, upstanding debutante to be a stepmother to his daughter. His hotel mogul money makes him the perfect match according to Delia's odious father.
Tru suffers a panic attack after a seance she never wanted to attend in the first place. What follows is a bit of instalust where Jasper propositions her on a balcony, and she regretfully refuses, re: her marriage, horror though it is. And Jasper lets her walk away without holding it over her head or promising to proposition her again in the future until she stops refusing -- a low bar to hurdle, but here we are, in a world where that's worth noting in historical romance, especially. Though neither knows who the other is at this first meeting, all is soon revealed, leading to some tension on Tru's side as she's forced by her husband to encourage Jasper's attentions toward their daughter despite this bit of secret past between them.
At 50%, the plot picks up. We have an unusual use of the fake dating trope that intrigued me. Jasper offers to fake date (court) Delia to get her father off her back once he realizes just how much she's being pressured into the match. My problem is that he doesn't clue Tru into the game because he likes to see her angry, and they have a very hot "we're enemies" kiss out of it. I just think with her husband playing power games and her daughter's perilous fate pushing Tru past her emotional limit, it dulls the shine. Tru feels ashamed of her attraction and still has to worry about her daughter's literal, actual safety while Jasper plays around, but at least they had a hot kiss? That doesn't shake out right for me. And what was instalust and became angry trysting flows so easily into unchallenged love. They're all like, "I know you," and I'm like, do you?? I see your thoughts, and I don't even know you. Two relatively flat characters fall into obsession with each other, more like. Normally, I would delight in the lack of final act breakup, but I cared so little here that I barely noticed the reprieve from angst. And I'm not against a neat ending, especially in romance, but this was a bit too carefully orchestrated in all its outlandish glory. The author set difficult odds for our characters and then swept them all away when the drama best called for it.
So begins a series about women who didn't get the happily ever after that historical romances so often depict for ladies in the blush of youth. These women had a harsher, more realistic experience with youthful romance and marriages to benefit their families. And what do they have to show for it? Certainly, not a lifetime of happiness, yet sometimes age and its trials offer a new opportunity, one we could never dream of when we're young and see one route to love and contentment. This first book is especially about the catharsis of an unhappily married woman who was attached too young finding the escape of a hot romance when she thought there'd be no chance of it in her life. Our two protagonists aren't old in the general scheme of things, but Tru, in particular, is practically geriatric in regency terms with how young ladies are married off and expected to bear children. I liked what the book was trying to do in theory... telling a more freeing story of a woman finding love, addressing ageism head-on, etc. I was just so ~bored~. And I think the telling rather than showing of all our protagonists' worries (sometimes repeatedly) is at least partially to blame. My lack of commitment to the romance covers the lion's share.
I have a final, specific mindset/messaging issue I want to call out. The book features some body image comments that aren't of the flavor I most often need to worry about in media. By this, I mean that I know both men and women alike experience pressures on what constitutes an attractive body, but even in books, I see the most crushing insensitivities heaped on women. In this book, Tru has a fleeting worry that she's curvier than is the popular shape for women, all while lusting after a man whom she's delighted isn't as fat as men of her acquaintance (!). Her husband, an all-around despicable creature, is painted as a glutton in all sorts of ways, and Tru is disgusted by him on many reasonable grounds but also in terms of his figure. The result is the binding together of disparate traits-- laziness, fatness, lack of sexual prowess, unattractiveness, lack of meaningful personality traits, and oversatisfaction with himself. It wouldn't be so much a problem if it didn't hit so many stereotypes that uphold fatphobia. So in the book's attempt to turn the tables and acknowledge men as the source of so many ills (a fair, worthy goal), it actually reinforces other social failings that don't do anyone good, regardless of gender.
While I think I might try another book by the author to see if it's just this particular tale that didn't land for me, I can't see myself recommending this one. Thanks to Avon for my copy to read and review!...more
Alistair de Lacey, Marquess of Pembroke, is trying to turn the family around after his father ruined them with his bad decisions. Alistair is always rAlistair de Lacey, Marquess of Pembroke, is trying to turn the family around after his father ruined them with his bad decisions. Alistair is always right, and he's the first to say so. He's also something of a Scrooge, miserly with his money and kindness. After his father's death, many came seeking what they felt (or knew) they were owed by the man, and Alistair feels bled dry, barely scraping his family's finances and reputation into an honorable shape in the aftermath.
Charity was posing as Robert Selby long before his death. She went to Cambridge in Robbie's stead, and now she's trying to honor his memory by helping his sister Louisa find a husband. Charity (as Robbie) comes asking Alistair for help introducing Louisa to society since the late Marquess was her godfather. Alistair refuses what he views as this latest attempt to take until he has nothing left to give. He only changes his mind when an opportunity arises to use Louisa's come out as a way to be petty to others who have been a thorn in his side. The upside is that he finds Robbie/Charity quite charming and can't help but want to bask in her presence.
It wouldn't be a Cat Sebastian story without queer representation ...more
When Reggie answers a job ad (like a literal ad in the paper) for a "spellcraft assistant," she assumes this is her big break-- a stepping stone to heWhen Reggie answers a job ad (like a literal ad in the paper) for a "spellcraft assistant," she assumes this is her big break-- a stepping stone to her dream and an opportunity to work for the company that makes her favorite deck-building game, Spellcraft. But when Reggie shows up for the interview, it gets weirder and weirder. She gets offered an absurd amount of money to be a live-in assistant (familiar?) in this old, Gothic house for a sweet old lady, Dru. Dru does not, in fact, have any concept of the card game Reggie's talking about, but she does think she's a witch. With so much money on the line, Reggie decides to take the job and humor Dru's delusions like everyone else seems to do.
Meanwhile, Dru's nephew, Ben (do NOT call him his full Roman name, Caliban), is frustrated to see his aunt make such a reckless decision by hiring some normie to fill her open familiar position. Ben's a warlock specializing in corporate curses, and he just knows his ditzy aunt is going to get herself in trouble and drag the Magnus name through the mud... again.
The first part of the book is mostly about Reggie coming to terms with the real, magical things going on around her. Sure, her disbelief stretches on to the point of (my/Ben's) frustration, but it's not actually unreasonable that she thinks Dru's delulu. Reggie has every reason to stay in this strange job a) when she thinks it's not a real thing and then b) when she realizes it's a very real thing that's putting her in danger. Her roommate Nick always has her back, but Reggie can't help but feel that he'd be happier moving on without her. Her parents only pop back into her life when they want money, and they're responsible for many of the outstanding debts that require her to take a risky but profitable job. Her obsessive, controlling need to tidy and organize has put her in hot water in previous positions, and she's desperate to not mess this new opportunity up.
I found it very cute that Ben and Reggie's friendship grows when he learns to play her favorite card game as an excuse to hang out with her, and it progresses to a point where it challenges her and lets her bring her full freak flag strategist mind to the thing she loves best. I'm also very into the forbidden vibes of "he shouldn't be crushing on/lusting after, etc. his aunt's familiar because of magical PROPRIETY (very important)." The slow burn energy is supported by a minor but meaningful time jump, and then we get some real action (get your mind out of the gutter... or not) because Dru's in trouble, Reggie's in trouble, and everyone's in trouble. We're treated to some forced proximity for ~spell-type~ reasons to ~protect against a curse~. Say less. There's also a very hot argument down a well, which is when I welcome you to send your mind back to the gutter where it belongs.
I am so delighted that this book broke my drought when it comes to witchy romances. After a string of disappointments, this one manages to keep things sexy, dramatic, and deeply unserious in the perfect proportions. The world-building isn't too heavy but retains a unique flavor by using Roman god tie-ins and emphasizing curses. It's just enough lore to be interesting without threatening a dreaded info dump. I laughed, I fanned myself, I had a great time (the new version of veni, vidi, vici-- my apologies to Caesar for cribbing his famous line)....more
Elle's recently formed a friendship with a particular French, half-elven customer, one that masks a crush she won't pursue. Neither Luc nor Elle can afford a romance, so they take the friendship they can get on the flimsy pretense of business. Elle makes glyphs that have saved his life in the field, letting herself do higher-level work than she's strictly supposed to. She can't help but love throwing herself into something with a bit of challenge, and she has a more than usual stake in keeping Luc safe and well. She doesn't know the exact nature of his job (other than the fact that it's dangerous), and Luc prefers it that way. Widely vilified for his past and disliked for his cold persona, Luc is in a literal bind that prevents him from forming meaningful relationships with anyone. Elle provides an opportunity he can't seem to get anywhere else to be a different, lighter version of himself and show true care for someone. If you're hearing alarm bells about a misunderstood, manly protagonist, you can put them to rest. In Luc's case, I'd say it's warranted, but I refuse to divulge anything more that could smack of spoilers.
This is a paranormal romace/romantasy between two beings gifted with longevity rather than the typical gendered imbalance that can haunt both subgenres. Elle and Luc have long histories, tons of baggage, and this singular moment to change how they approach it all. Both need to understand that they can be more than their utility to others and seize happiness from being valued for just existing. They each must examine their perceived duties more clearly and consider how they're preventing a full, meaningful life. The romantic vibes are a 10, but the banter couldn't keep up for me. One of the things I liked best is how the story avoids some yucky romantic pitfalls (unnecessary angst, miscommunication) to focus on real opportunities for growth like how to support one another during difficult transitions and how to listen to one another when not everything can be said.
Because the book ditches some of the common rhythms of romance, things were looking ~too~ good halfway through, and it freaked me out... because happiness can't be trusted that early, especially in a romance. While there are definitely trials to come, the deviation from annoying tropes means it wasn't as much drama as I feared. I ~will~ say that after everything is sorted out, the end wraps up pretty quickly. Some of Luc's history is left unresolved, though that might be preferable to suffering an obvious, drawn-out explanation. Something I especially appreciate about the conclusion is that it's not what I would classify as a neat, easy solution to the characters' insurmountable problems. They face the situation with courage and don't walk away unscathed (not to freak out my fellow romance fans-- this is not a threat to HEA, just the presence of nuance).
There are some other little bits of the book that I loved. It's threaded with queerness in multiple ways because why settle for the bare minimum on representation? Luc is queer, and he works with Pei (they/them), who is descended from the Chinese god of war, as well as a violent polycule known for maximum effort. Tony's gay, and Elle's best friend and business partner, Lira, is also queer (and a corporeal ghost specializing in runes). Another awesome facet of the story is all the translanguaging-- something made even cooler if you read the author's note at the end.
I would definitely pick up more by this author in the future. The book takes on some of the shakeups that I think the genre desperately needs, adding complexity and removing unnecessary hangups in multiple ways. Thanks to Tachyon for my copy to read and review!...more
At the start of The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen, Gareth has just spent a lovely week hooking up with a man from out of town. To keep their anonyAt the start of The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen, Gareth has just spent a lovely week hooking up with a man from out of town. To keep their anonymity, they go by the pseudonyms "London" and "Kent," a nod to their respective homes. When Kent announces it's time for him to go home, he offers his contact information in case Gareth wants to meet up again when he's back in town. "London," aka Gareth, reacts badly. He can't handle the hope and waiting that will likely only lead to never hearing from this man again. With his back up, Gareth shuts down any attempts to prolong their acquaintance, and the two part on bad terms.
As luck would have it, Gareth ends up in Kent a week later, a newly minted baronet. His estranged father did the unthinkable-- he died and left everything to his son, ignoring the daughter who had all but supplanted Gareth in his life. Gareth shows up at the family home to discover that his half-sister Cecilia did not know of his existence until the will was read. He also finds his father's mistress (and Cecilia's aunt), another woman left unprovided for in his father's wake. Gareth makes an unexpected alliance with the women, kindred spirits in his father's lingering mistreatment of them all, which largely took the form of disinterest.
As Gareth settles into his new home, it comes to his attention that smuggling is an active part of the county's economy. In an attempt to win over his sister, he sort of accidentally ends up admitting to her beaux/officer of the law that he saw a smuggler in the act on his walk one night and then proceeds to dig himself a deeper hole by making the unpopular decision to testify against one of the locally powerful smuggling families.
When Gareth moved to Kent, he did spare a thought for what might happen if he ran into his former paramour, not that it was terribly likely. What he never imagined was "Kent," aka Joss, showing up in court to vouch for his little sister, the accused, and offer a veiled threat in front of the whole community to make Gareth back down. In fact, neither man relishes the reunion or its nature. What follows is a need for both to make amends and, in the aftermath, a wish to continue what they started in London with their proverbial masks off. Things get more complicated when Gareth's family is targeted by a different smuggling operation with veiled threats that Gareth doesn't understand. Meanwhile, Joss is trying to keep his grip on the family business despite some division in the ranks speared by his good-for-nothing uncle and unchallenged by his stubborn mother.
There's so much to love about this romance. What grows between the two men is a lasting connection that helps both thrive. Joss offers to be the first person fully on Gareth's side. He swaggers around with his "I look after my own" family/gang energy, and then he chooses Gareth as his own *swoon.* It feeds nicely into the drama with threats being made against Gareth. It's time for Joss to literally and figuratively throw his weight around. On the other hand, Joss is used to having his way as a family boss and as a type of local royalty, but he's nervous about being an equal to Gareth as an aristocrat (watch out for the explanation for how Gareth's family earned their title, one of many hilarious details in the book). One moment that stands out is when Joss is nervous for Gareth to see his handwriting because it's not very refined ...more
"What have I told you about having opinions? You'll destroy yourself!"
The Rogue Not Taken is hilarious from the very first page. We have Sophie Talbot"What have I told you about having opinions? You'll destroy yourself!"
The Rogue Not Taken is hilarious from the very first page. We have Sophie Talbot, who is well and truly fed up with the aristocracy. She wasn't raised in its grasp, and her father's rise to an earldom has brought them nothing but misery, in Sophie's opinion. The family's new money is viewed as "crass," and the daughters are always out of favor but the perfect sport for gossip. At the beginning of the book, Sophie is first aggrieved by an event she must attend with a Chinese theme to celebrate Japanese fish. She tells anyone who would listen that it's idiotic (same), and no one cares. The thing that pushes her over the edge, though, is finding her brother-in-law (a duke) cuckolding his wife (Sophie's sister) with no shame whatsoever. In fact, he suggests it's his due given his wife's low upbringing/morals, etc. Sophie, typically the level-headed and quiet Talbot sister, has had more than enough. She publicly pushes the duke into a koi pond and leaves the scene ruined and happy about it. It's then that she runs into a famed rogue-- the Marquess of Eversley (King to his friends). He's escaping his latest tryst (or is he?) in a public way that will put a stop to the young lady's engagement, and he refuses to give Sophie a ride away from the scene of both their crimes, certain that she's trying to entrap him as rumor suggests her older sister captured her duke. Banter ensues, Sophie bargains, Sophie walks away with the Marquess' boot but not a ride, and Sophie trades his footman for his livery in exchange for a hefty bribe and a new, better-paying job. Her daring escape is doomed from the start, unaware is she that the Marquess isn't headed to his house in town.
This series of unfortunate events explains how Sophie comes to be in a certain rogue's company out in the countryside without a chaperone. Upon discovering his stowaway, King is only further convinced that this is the most elaborate entrapment scheme he's yet heard of. And after her recent run-in, Sophie is particularly ill-disposed toward known rogues who take advantage of the double standard for men and women when it comes to extramarital frolicking (or really any frolicking at all). Tempers flare, Sophie steals something of greater worth than the Marquess' boot this time, and she uses her ill-gotten gains to escape his company. Set upon by highwaymen, Sophie takes advantage of being dressed as a boy to stand up for her fellow mail coach passengers. The bad news? She ends up shot just as the Marquess arrives, hot on her heels and seeking revenge. His emotions turn on a dime to see her imperiled and then injured, and he whisks her off to find a surgeon, much to her new friends' disgruntlement. They won't let him abscond with her until he lies and claims her as his wife. It seems like all those entrapment worries are on him, then. And from this scene on, I was well and truly hooked (fake marriage?? TLC for a gunshot wound?? Come on.).
This romance leans on a lot of tropes I love. There are Beauty and the Beast vibes galore. Sophie's a bookish heroine who feels like she doesn't belong anywhere, and over the course of the book she develops the feeling that she has no home to speak of. King rages at being in Sophie's presence to start, does his utmost to protect her anyway, and eventually faces the demons in his past. She gets sassy and real with him about things he doesn't want to hear but also offers honest care. There's also a more particular homage when we see King puffed up with pride to show his lady love the family library. All that's missing is a scene where Sophie teaches him to read. The book is also plenty spicy. The two make good use of that two-story library. And an overnight carriage ride. And the secret center of a labyrinth.
My minor quibble has to do with King, even if it suits the Beast vibes. He takes a long ass time to start making amends for his boorish behavior. Too long. And then it's quite sudden when he decides to show genuine appreciation for the queen in his presence. And to suit his level of angst, the final miscommunication is so obvious and evil. Like oh my GOD the drama. At the slightest emotional wreckage, King goes for the jugular with his cruelties, retaliating against Sophie without first attempting to listen to her or consider any other perspective but his own. That is not a pattern to encourage, my dude. It's one of those happily ever afters where I think things aren't as resolved as we're led to believe. He's so heat of the moment, I'm not convinced he's truly addressed the changes he'll need to make in himself to not cause the same kind of shitstorm the next time he gets mad. Said final act fuckery also cemented how much I dislike most of the rest of the Talbots, so I suppose I'll be holding out for character growth in future books?
As a final pro, I love that in addition to Sophie's excellent personality, she's a fat lady in the lead of a historical (or any style of) romance. Honestly, despite some of King's excellent qualities... I still think she could have done better. That's just how much I like her....more
When Annie drops into Seattle to surprise her bestie with a visit and some big news, she's disappointed to find that Darcy's actually out of town on aWhen Annie drops into Seattle to surprise her bestie with a visit and some big news, she's disappointed to find that Darcy's actually out of town on a romantic getaway. Annie's in town for a couple of weeks, anyway, and tells Darcy she'll be fine for the weekend on her own. Since she constantly travels for work, she's no stranger to a lonely tour of a new place (though she tries not to make it sound so melancholy to her bestie). Darcy's younger brother, Brendon, is tasked with dropping off keys to her apartment so Annie can get settled, and sparks fly. The two haven't seen each other in eight years, and Annie is wowed by how hot her best friend's little brother has become. As for Brendon, Annie's still the bombshell he remembers. She was the star of his teenage dreams and the object of years of crushing (and everyone knew because he doesn't have a subtle bone in his body). An offer for dinner turns into a weekend of Brendon as tour guide, and though they flirt and lust after each other, etc., Annie's sworn off dating. And oh, yeah. Her big news? She's about to move to London. Nothing can happen between them, as far as she's concerned.
Brendon's the CEO of the dating app OTP (one true pairing, for the non-nerds in the room), and he's a card-carrying romantic. It's a personal disappointment to him every time he thinks of the romantically cynical, and Annie's no exception. She perfectly represents the soul-sucking nature of modern dating. You don't have to have a particularly grievous experience to be worn down by it all, something Brendon refuses to consider with his rose-colored glasses. Though he's also a perpetual dater who can't find the perfect person to get serious about, his hope springs eternal. He wants to share some of that hope with Annie and sets out to sweep her off her feet, showing her romance isn't dead. But if he were real with himself for even a minute, he'd have to admit that really he just wants the opportunity to take her out with no secondary motive. He can already tell there's something special between them that his other dates, though lovely, lacked.
For some reason, I wanted to be against Brendon's romantic outings, maybe because I'm so jaded in real life myself. But I was won over despite myself, much like Annie. Bickering about coffee? Check. Old school drive-in movie? Check. Game night with friends? Check. Wedding plus one? Check. And I'm never not happy about only one bed-- give me all the forced proximity, please! The love story's a whirlwind I actually liked (a rarity). It also doesn't really have a final act breakup but more like a question mark that both take just as hard. It's a nice compromise to keep the emotional tension without throwing out something ridiculous to make it happen.
The friendship story is equally real. Annie is delighted to see Darcy settle into a happy romantic relationship but observes the growing distance between them with despair. A much-needed heart-to-heart made me emotional, and I loved seeing Darcy fight for her friend. Also, for those who read and loved Written in the Stars, know that Darcy gets the sibling comeback she deserves, meddling in Brendon's love life with flair.
Though I loved aspects of both protagonists, Annie's journey hit especially hard as she finally owns up to being unhappy in life and considers doing something drastic about it. The book captures the sometimes borderline terror of having to seize your own destiny-- of having to weigh caring about others and being cared for in return against literally anything else. It's a story about adulting, in other words. Come for the romance, stay for the friendship and life realizations....more
"But he'd still choose Lily. He'd choose her over anyone."
One literally overheated editor's assistant, Lily, dreams of making the jump to editing chil"But he'd still choose Lily. He'd choose her over anyone."
One literally overheated editor's assistant, Lily, dreams of making the jump to editing children's books rather than reading about depressing nonfiction every day at work. On the subway, feeling woozy and dehydrated, she discovers that her favorite, reclusive author now has a website with a contact form. In an attempt to keep herself alert, she sends charming, rambling fan mail and then passes out. N.M. Strickland, aka Nick, gave up on his career as an author five years ago when a series of unfortunate events compounded on unfair barriers to getting his fantasy novel about Black elves *gasp* published. While that first book just barely made it out into the world, he left things on a cliffhanger and never wrote again. Or at least, he didn't write any books. Now working as a travel writer for a magazine, he lives a lonely life circling the globe, never staying in one spot for long. Lily's unexpected message starts a chain of correspondence between two people who, frankly, really need a pen pal.
Just before the two are set to video chat for the first time, Nick gets news that sets them on a new path. He fails to show up to their (virtual) date and responds to her worried inquiries by telling her something suitably vague a la "I'm not who you think I am," before deleting his email account. Lily reasonably interprets this ominous statement as evidence she's been catfished, and both leave their digital relationship behind, heartbroken. So begins phase two of their story when Nick and Lily are thrown together as neighbors. Nick's book is to be given new life at a big U.S. publisher with sequels and a TV series to follow, and he's permanently relocated to New York.
As neighbors, Nick panics upon figuring out who Lily is and (literally) runs away from her by exclaiming that he has to go to IKEA. Like right that minute, apparently. It made me truly cackle, and I only became more amused when Lily chases him down and invites herself along. A perfect escape it is not. What follows is a classic rom-com case of asking someone to be your wingperson even though you're mutually attracted and it's a terrible idea. Any attempts to help find Lily a date to her sister's wedding are really just opportunities for the two to fall harder for each other and uncover a million more reasons why Lily shouldn't date anyone else, even for one measly event.
You know it's a perfectly calibrated bookish romance because one of the more romantic overtures is when Nick lends Lily a copy of one of his favorite books. The TRUST is unparalleled. I am also a sucker for pet-related plot lines, so when Lily calls Nick in a panic because her cat isn't feeling well, and he carries said cat in his literal arms all the way to the pet ER even though he is DEATHLY AFRAID OF CATS I swooned and was only resuscitated to make sure I didn't miss what happened next. I also like that the romance doesn't truly kick off until late in the book AFTER the moment that would have been a final act breakup. It's a slight but meaningful shift that had a huge, positive impact on my reading experience.
Both protagonists are on parallel but disparate journeys with their incredibly low self-esteem, but not in the classic, annoying way where a feminine protagonist worries about her looks all the time. Both worry about their careers, Lily worries about being lonely while Nick pretends he's not, and Nick assumes he'll never have good fortune in life while Lily expects to never be as put together as her older sisters. They learn and grow together, especially once they meet in person, but they also take space to figure things out alone. Nick's journey has an especially complex flavor because it has to do with the neglect he experienced as a child and the way he fears walking in his father's duplicitous footsteps one day himself.
I also want to take a moment to shout out the side characters. Nick's best friend Marcus watches his back in a really kind way, not in the aggressive form so many rom-com best friends seem to be cast in. Meanwhile, Lily's sisters are Too Much�, so I'm obviously delighted each is getting her own book. Even when they step on Lily's toes and get wrapped up in their own lives, a night where they figure out she's going through something and needs their unconditional support stands out as one of my favorite scenes.
This romance has big romantic moments, bookish delights, and two adorably introverted protagonists who discover their self-confidence along with their perfect life partner. I would happily recommend it to anyone. Thanks to Berkley for my copy to read and review!...more