Shows You Should Watch if You Know What's Good For You, Part One

I consider myself a TV-holic. It goes through stages - I'm watching a dozen shows in September when all the new stuff comes up, and over the months, as work and school and other commitments take precedence, I leave more programs by the wayside when they lose my interest. Eventually, I even let older shows I've watched go when they no longer provide the entertainment worthy of the investment of an hour's time.

But occasionally, there are shows that wow. Shows I watch religiously - either ones that grab me right away and hook me in, or the ones that grow on me until I can't imagine missing a single episode. I could describe them all here, but I don't want to take up that much of your time. Instead, I'm going to introduce you to two of my favourite shows - one of which is established, one that's just started, and both of which are on the ratings bubble right now so future seasons for them are uncertain. I think everyone who loves a show that's ratings-challenged (hi Arrested Development and Pushing Daisies fans!) experiences a certain feeling of helplessness when they hear their favourite show's future is iffy. Some write letters. Some keep the DVD sales up. Some send bags of peanuts to producers.

Me, I'm taking it to my blog. I think these programs are exciting and entertaining, and I don't want them to end up on the "brilliant but cancelled" list this year (*sigh* So long, My Own Worst Enemy...).

The first show I'm discussing today is NBC's Chuck. The story? Chuck Bartowski (the adorable Zachary Levi) is a regular shmo with above-average intelligence who had a bright future ahead of him - until his roommate Bryce Larkin stole his girlfriend and got him expelled from Stanford. The show opens five years after this event, where Chuck is a computer techie at Best Buy, er, I mean a Buy More electronics store. He makes eleven dollars an hour. He lives with his sister and her boyfriend, Captain Awesome. And his life is going nowhere.

Everything changes when he receives a mysterious e-mail from his erstwhile roommate Bryce that downloads millions of bizarre images into Chuck's brain. It turns out Bryce is a CIA rogue operative who stole a joint CIA/NSA project called the Intersect - a program designed to facilitate the exchange of intel between the two agencies, using images subliminally coded with the nation's secrets.

Only now all of those secrets exist solely in Chuck's head. The agencies send CIA agent Sarah Walker (Yvonne Strahovski) and NSA agent John Casey (Firefly's Adam Baldwin) to act as handlers. Chuck simultaneously represents the USA's biggest asset as well as its biggest liability - while his newfound ability to "flash" (or access Intersect information) on persons, names, or objects relevant to CIA cases helps Sarah and John fight evil, the secrets in Chuck's head also make him an irresistible target for America's enemies.

In case you forgot, however, this show isn't all spywork. It's got a bit of everything - romance, drama, action, mystery, and more recently, sci-fi. The title is really the most accurate description of the show: it's all about Chuck, and how he adjusts to his changing circumstances. The excellent writing combined with Zachary Levi's spot-on performance makes Chuck a lovable and engaging centerpiece. At the beginning of the show he's a certified loser - he's still licking his wounds five years after his dreams were shattered and lives in a kind of never-grow-up stasis, never moving out of his sister's apartment, still plugging away at the dead-end job he took up after college, and forget about girlfriends!

His life might have proceeded indefinitely in that direction if not for the Intersect. Thanks to the secrets in his head, he's thrown into situations of danger and excitement he never would have dreamed of, and suddenly, Chuck develops an identity that goes deeper than a Buy More nametag. Spywork doesn't always agree with him - he's often clumsy, naive, and too goodhearted in situations that call for head-bashing and gunplay - but that's not the point. The joy of Chuck comes from watching how adventures with terrorists and gunrunners and assassins unwittingly contribute to Chuck's self-discovery, as he unearths hidden depths of intelligence, cunning, bravery, confidence, determination, and morality to deal with situations.

Before I bore my regular romance readers out of their minds, there is a romance to Chuck. Throughout the series, Sarah and Chuck skirt around their burgeoning feelings for each other, feelings that continue to develop despite ever-present obstacles. Sarah is an experienced spook, fully knowledgable in foreign languages, weapons, and martial arts. She's less experienced at love - her last boyfriend (and CIA partner) went rogue and stole government secrets, so she's hesitant about entering into a relationship again, especially with the computer nerd she's supposed to be protecting. Chuck, meanwhile, pines for Sarah but at the same time feels a relationship with her is incompatible with his plan to return to a normal life once the Intersect is extracted from his brain. He's also intimidated by her because, well, she's a walking weapon and he's a nerd.

Regular romance readers will be intrigued by the reversed power dynamic in Chuck and Sarah's relationship. In Chuck, Sarah is the physically powerful, dominant, take-charge Alpha while Chuck is the submissive, physically weaker, emotional Beta. The Alpha-Beta dynamic itself is still intact (the Alpha generally solves problems physically, the Beta intellectually - the Alpha is emotionally suppressed while the Beta is expressive), but in the romance novels I read the hero is almost always the physically dominating Alpha while the heroine's job as the Beta is to counter the Alpha with cunning, wit, and emotion. It's particularly sweet here to see the reversed gender dynamic - especially since Chuck can still be incredibly sexy without breaking down doors and kung-fu gripping everybody.

By Season Two, both Sarah and Chuck realize they're in love with each other, but they remain stuck on the sticky question of whether entering into a relationship would be wise with both their futures so uncertain. Season Two also heralds the appearance of a new villainous entity: "Fulcrum," a secret society composed of CIA double-agents who achieve their ends through violence, subterfuge, and eeeevil. Fulcrum's on the lookout for the Intersect, and while so far only Chuck, Sarah, Casey, and their boss General Beckman (Bonita Friedericy) know it's locked in Chuck's head, he's still in considerable danger should the baddies ever find out the truth.

While Chuck's first season was cut short by the writers' strike, the strike also cut a swath through the number of pilots available for the following TV season, so Chuck was able to secure a second season. Now, however, the writing industry's bounced back, hordes of potential pilots are waiting in the wings, and Jay Leno's new talk show with NBC takes away an hour of primetime space every weekday. Chuck's not doing terribly, but its ratings are average, which means it's still at risk of being cancelled to make way for new blood or more Leno space. I can only hope that NBC gives Chuck the third season it deserves - the show possesses a highly sympathetic character, zinging humour, some truly hilarious action scenes, and a sweet and slow-burning romance. In truth, it's got a little bit of everything. The first season's out of DVD, I recommend giving it a try.

"Slave to Sensation," by Nalini Singh

Alternate Title: Sex Panther

The Chick: Sascha Duncan. Born a Psy, a race of psychics who forcibly eliminated all unnecessary sentiment from their ranks, she must constantly surround herself with mental shields and firewalls to prevent others from discovering her genetic flaw: an ability to feel emotion.
The Rub: Her real estate project puts her in direct contact with changeling Lucas - a werepanther whose very touch sends her into sensory overload.
Dream Casting: Jessica Alba.

The Dude: Lucas Hunter. The Alpha of the DarkRiver clan of Changelings (in this case, wereleopards), he's on the hunt for a serial killer who's targeting Changeling women.
The Rub: Every trace of evidence points to a Psy killer, and Lucas is determined to do whatever it takes to prove the Psy Council is harboring a murderer - even if he has to do it through Sascha, whose mother is one of the Council's most influential members.
Dream Casting: Zachary Quinto.

The Plot:
Sascha: Life is hard - I feel emotion but must hide it or I'll be brainwiped!

Lucas: Life is hard - someone's killing changeling women and I have to seduce a hot woman to discover the truth!

Sascha: I cannot be seduced.

Lucas: Really? *pokes*

Sascha: *full-body orgasm*

Lucas: Heh, thought so.

Sascha: I ... meant to do that.

Lucas: Sure you did. Let's find the killer, shall we?

Psy Serial Killer: Nyahahaha! Evilness! *brutally killed*

Sascha and Lucas: Hooray!

Romance Convention Checklist:
1 Alpha Alpha

1 Very Bad Parent

1 Serial Killer Whose Secret Serial Killerness is Loudly Telegraphed From the Start

Several Counts of Friendly PDA

2 Shared Erotic Dreams

1 Secret Power

1 Near-Instance of Death By Chocolate

The Word: If you're not already aware by now, I was asked to do a Guest Dare by The Book Smugglers, where I read a book they suggested and wrote a review of it. I did - and the review will be appearing on their site this month. They're a wonderful review site and it wouldn't be the first time I took their suggestions, but after reading Slave to Sensation, I might be a little warier about it. Ana is a huge Nalini Singh fan, so I decided to pick up the first book in her Psy/Changling series and see how it turned out.

In an alternate America, there are three races - the humans, the Changelings, and the Psy. The Changelings are basically werepeople, with wolves, leopards, and even swans (!), who live in autonomous pack societies. The Psy, on the other hand, are cerebral psychics who, for a hundred years, have instituted the Silence - a protocol that demands all emotion be trained out of their members, following the theory that without rage and hatred and depression, there will be no violence.

Sascha Duncan, a Psy, is hiding a secret - despite a century of genetic programming, she can still feel emotions, a trait that, if discovered, would immediately sentence her to "rehabilitation" - essentially a forced lobotomy. Ever since she was a child, she's kept herself contained behind hordes of mental shields and firewalls to prevent other Psys, and the PsyNet (a kind of linked psychic network/mental life support system) from discovering her flaw. On top of being "broken," she's also crippled - while her unique eyes (all black with white stars) mark her as an advanced, or cardinal Psy, she's never exhibited any amazing talents, so even with her secret hidden she's a bit of a joke in the Psy community.

When her mother assigns her to help broker a real-estate deal with a changeling-run construction company (and also to gain more information on changeling life), Sascha at first sees it as an opportunity to finally be of some use to the Psy community and keep her superiors off her back. However, when she meets the developer, Lucas Hunter, a leopard changeling, all her senses go haywire and she must fight extra hard to keep her emotions and overloaded senses under wraps.

Lucas, however, has plans of his own. Someone's been torturing and killing changeling women, and it smells like a Psy - and the bizarre refusal of human authorities to investigate the murders stinks of psychic influence to keep the killer from being outed. The info-sharing nature of the PsyNet prompts Lucas to believe that the Psy Council knows who the killer is, and is protecting him to maintain the lie that the Silence Protocol eliminates all violence from the Psy population. Since Sascha's mother Nikita is on the Psy Council, he thinks if he gets under her skin, he might be able to infiltrate or at least learn more about the PsyNet and find the killer's identity. That is, if Sascha herself doesn't know who the killer is - after all, with her own mother on the Council, what doesn't she know?

I wanted so much to like this book. Not only because of the Book Smugglers - other reviews all over the net do happy dances for Nalini Singh. I'm a fantasy reader as well as a romance reader and so far I haven't met many fantasy-romances that have thrilled me. But, well, I didn't like Slave to Sensation. I tried - I really did, but by novel's end all I wanted to do was put the book down and read about petticoats and barouches and snuffboxes again.

To me, three of the most important elements of a romance novel are a) the hero and heroine, b) the general plot (if it isn't specifically based on how the hero and heroine get together) and c) the language. Sadly, this novel disappointed me on all three levels.

First, let's start with the characters. Sascha Duncan has had a rough life, to be sure - since childhood she's been forced to keep her true personality hidden to protect herself from rehabilitation. Her constant repression results in physical as well as mental symptoms - hand spasms, occasional seizures, and a belief that she's slowly going insane. I get all that. What I didn't enjoy was that because of that, she spends ninety percent of the novel as the guest of honour at her own fully-decorated, Wolfgang-Puck-catered pity party. I found it hard to relate to her as an independent, motivated character when she got down on her knees every other page and looked at me with her sad-kicked-puppy eyes begging me to feel bad for her. She spends so much time being terrified and depressed and (once she lets her shields down) uncontrollably horny that I couldn't figure out her actual personality beyond the crazily exaggerated emotions she endures.

Because of that, I never really bought the romance. Lucas' entire attraction to Sascha seems to stem from White Knight syndrome - he's overprotective and domineering to begin with, so coming up against a girl who'd like nothing more than to curl into a fetal ball and sob is Alpha Male catnip. I never felt his character developed from his relationship with Sascha - he stayed more or less the same. He was always the one giving comfort and protection and safety - and Sascha soaked it all up like a sponge, giving little back except the requisite sexual pleasure.

The characters might not have been so obviously cardboard if there had been an interesting plot to distract me, but the novel lacks a true mystery element as the Psy killer does everything short of walking into his first scene with SERIAL KILLER tattooed on his forehead.

Lastly, I found the language purple and overwrought. I understand how, in Sascha's case, her unease and unfamiliarity with emotions renders her extremely sensitive to sensory experience. Everything from simple handshakes to chocolate chip cookies sends her completely over the edge, so a lot of the description around her character was exaggerated - everything was a huge burning wave of magnificence that threatened the sparkly, fragile eggshell of her deteriorating sanity type of deal.

But everything in the book was described this way, not only from her point of view. I felt everything in the book was described as an extreme, and it got tiresome quickly. I always believe the best writers use elaborate language sparingly in order to create a dynamic and a sense of true importance in the scenes where such wordplay is used. To quote Chuck's Ellie Bartowski: "If everything is awesome, than nothing is awesome and awesome is just mediocre." I felt the same way here: everything can't be the most important heart-stoppingly beautiful/horrifying/sensual thing that's ever happened in the history of EVAR. This becomes particularly apparent during the sex scenes - which, to me, seemed both unnecessarily long and unnecessarily graphic. They went on forever with very little significant plot development, and I could skip them without missing a great deal.

Nalini Singh does contribute some interesting worldbuilding - I enjoyed learning about what America would be like if wildlife-loving Changelings were a significant and influential section of society, and pack politics kept me reading. However, this novel was a romantic mystery - and neither the romance (too one-sided) nor the mystery (too obvious) held much water for me.
C.

"Slightly Wicked," by Mary Balogh

Alternative Title: Ralf Fought the Law and ... Miss Law Won

The Chick: Judith Law. En route to her aunt's house to begin her position as an Underappreciated Poor Relation, a handsome anonymous stranger offers her a ride (in more than one sense of the word) after her stagecoach overturns, and she accepts (in more than one sense of the word), thinking she'll never see him again.
The Rub: Surprise! He's courting her spoiled cousin!
Dream Casting: Bryce Dallas Howard.

The Dude: Lord Rannulf "Ralf" Bedwyn. His dying grandmother (who's leaving her entire fortune to him), wants to see him married more than anything, and even has a choice picked out. Not willing to shop for "World's Worst Grandson" coffee mugs just yet, he vows to give the girl a try.
The Rub: While he wants to fulfill his grandmother's wishes, he can't help but feel an attraction for the girl's mistreated cousin - the alluring "actress" whose virginity he unintentionally took.
Dream Casting: Seth Rogen. Yes, I am serious!

The Plot:

Ralf: Hey, little lady, need a lift?

Judith: Sure, I'm *FAKE NAME*

Ralf: Cool, I'm *FAKE NAME* Wanna have sex?

Judith: What's sex?

Ralf: Wow! Her pretend virginity kick is SO HAWT!

Judith: *flees*

Ralf: Getting dumped by Regency Post-It Note. Less hawt.

Innkeeper: *whisper whisper*

Ralf: Damn, her virginity-pretending-to-pretend-virginity thing is so exactly the opposite of hawt. Oh, hi Granny!

Grandmother: *guilt trip*Hi favouritest grandson! *guilt trip* Getting married soon? *guilt trip*

Ralf: Uh, sure. Hi prospective bride.

Prospective Bride's Cousin, Judith: Egads!

Ralf: Holy Unlikely and Yet Strangely Convenient Coincidence, Batman! Wanna get married?

Judith: My family's too poor and we're too different.

Ralf: How about if I pay your brother's debts?

Judith: Okay!

Ralf: Hooray!

Romance Convention Checklist:

1 Overlooked Poor Relation with Body Issues

1 Unwitting Deflowering

1 Dying Grandmother

1 (Perfectly Healthy) Grandmother with a Scandalous Past

1 Guilt-Trip Courtship

1 Irresponsible Sibling

1 Creepy (step-)Cousin

1 Attempted Rape

1 Attempted Compromisation

1 Dastardly Jewel Theft

The Word: Hello, I'm Animejune. And I'm a Balogh-aholic. Every time I pick up one of her novels (or short stories, as in the case of It Happened One Night), I fall in headfirst. She is the reason I love romance historicals - her characters respect historical conventions and take pleasure in period amusements but still manage to be relatable. I truly feel like I'm living in Regency England in her books, and she creates such a wonderful sense of atmosphere, especially with rural settings. This is actually my third Balogh novel, after The Secret Pearl and Slightly Married, and it doesn't disappoint.

Judith Law can't imagine how life could get any worse. Her brother's reckless spending has beggared the family finances. As a result, her wealthy aunt's offer to take in one of the Law children as a companion to her mother was impossible to refuse - even though the position is basically that of a poor relation, an unpaid servant, a Cinderella position empty of pleasure or prospects. Judith knows her future is a bleak one, and, given the nature of her brother's habits, realizes it's unlikely she'll ever return home. And on top of all that, her stagecoach overturns in the middle of nowhere.

So when an attractive stranger passes by on his horse and offers her a ride to the nearest town, she accepts. When asked her name, she sees one last chance for a small adventure before being condemned to dreary servitude and introduces herself as Claire Campbell, famous actress. Unbeknownst to her, the attractive stranger is Rannulf Bedwyn, a regular Regency gent who, in a realistic leap in reasoning for his period, sees "hot chick" and hears "actress" and thinks "good for a lay or two."

He never forces her or aggressively seduces her, but is companionable and charming, and eventually they fall into bed together. Thanks to Mary Balogh's fantastic characterisation, this never comes off as cheap or altogether implausible (a la Second Sight). After all, Judith thinks, who's going to know she's a fallen woman? And how likely is it she'll ever be married with no fortune or connections? When her certain future is as a shadow in a wealthier house, Judith sees a chance to grasp a dream for herself, if only for a couple of days. Their love scenes are not only sexy, but subtly funny - mainly because Ralf assumes "Claire Campbell" is sexually experienced and marvels at how skilled she is at pushing all of his buttons with her unaffected, innocent "act."

However, when he offers to accompany her to "York" where she's "accepting a new role," Judith realizes her plan's backfired and flees, leaving an apologetic note. Angered at being dumped, Ralf's mood is further darkened when the nosy innkeeper unwittingly reveals that "Claire Campbell," experienced Sex Goddess, was actually a virgin.

Ralf continues on to his destination, his grandmother's estate, where he quickly ascertains that his doting grandmother is dying. Long ago, she decided to leave her estate and fortune to him alone (even though he has two older brothers), and has always tried to hook Ralf up with different girls of good breeding and taste. While he's always wriggled out of her matchmaking attempts, now that he realizes his grandmother doesn't have long, he promises to give her current choice a shot.

He's quickly introduced to his prospective bride's family, who are a shallow, snobby bunch with the exception of a flamboyant grandmother and a dowdy poor relation. Imagine his surprise when the woman hidden beneath shapeless dresses and oversized caps is none other than "Claire Campbell"! He's understandably outraged, at himself as much as at her, especially now that he realizes he deflowered the innocent daughter of a gentleman, and he privately offers for her hand.

Judith refuses. Within the context of two nights of enjoyable pleasure, she was able to see Rannulf as a romantic figure. In the harsh light of reality, however, he comes off as a pig: the kind of man who thinks nothing of tumbling total strangers in roadside inns right before courting a proper lady. Those two days Judith was hoping to cherish as tender memories in her heart now feel tawdry and cheap.

Both vow never to bother the other again, but fate, as it often does in Balogh novels, has other plans. As angry as they are with each other, and as much as they'd both love to go stomping off in opposite directions, their unique and well-developed personalities won't allow that. Which means good reading for you and me, naturally!

Mary Balogh has a delightful tendency to introduce characters that appear to be flimsy cliches or familiar archtypes at the beginning, only to pull away their layers piece by piece to show the profound and realistic motivations behind their character traits. In this case, both Rannulf and Judith appear to be familiar characters: Rannulf is in typical younger-son-identity-crisis-mode (see: An Offer From a Gentleman, Romancing Mr Bridgerton, The Heir and the Spare, etc. etc.), and Judith appears to be one of those eye-roll-inducing heroines with great tits and fantastic hair who thinks she's hideously ugly because she has freckles or some crap.

In this case, Ralf always felt like he disappointed his father by not entering the clergy (the tradition among third sons of the peerage), and feels like an irresponsible shirker when compared to his brother Aidan (the hero of Slightly Married who dutifully entered his second-born self into the military). However, he doesn't let his perceived flaws turn him into a whining mope (*cough*Colin Bridgerton*cough*). He takes action, and I enjoyed how he always fought against his feelings of uselessness without wallowing in them. In fact, his strength is the main reason behind his presence in the story - while he realises pretty early on that Julianne (Judith's cousin) is a bitchface, he refuses to casually slough off responsibility once again and is determined to do right by his grandmother (awww....), even if it means giving Julianne way more consideration than she deserves. Of course, this also allows him to remain close to Judith.

Judith, once you get over the grating scene where she hopes Ralf won't be repulsed by her grotesquely large, supple breasts, also has a reason for her ugly duckling beliefs that really surprised me. It wasn't a matter of being simply oblivious or insanely naive, but more a result of how people who were supposed to care about her saw her obvious beauty as a threat and spent her life telling her it was wrong. Her father, a puritanical preacher, enforced modest clothing and caps to cover her red hair ("the devil's own colour" according to him - maybe he read The Runaway Duke?), blaming her for other men's leers.

Her aunt reacts much the same way, albeit for a different reason - she has her maid alter all of Judith's dresses to be as shapeless as possible and also insists Judith cover her hair, so that she won't take attention away from Julianne. And of course, by the novel's end, Balogh reveals yet another reason for her father and her aunt's hostility towards her looks (something to do with their mother's scandalous past), that further explains why they insisted on hiding her beauty - because they saw it as a way to crush a spirit they feared might bring shame and ridicule to their family. So, naturally, Judith has some very distorted ideas about her own image, but aside from that she's a whip-smart, responsible woman with realistic expectations.

Really, the only thing that kept this from being an A was a last-minute revenge plot at the end that succeeded in bringing other Bedwyns into the story (including Wulfric, who remains an Asshole with a capital Ass) and some suspense and misunderstandings but it felt a bit contrived and needless in a story that had done just find up until that point with dialogue, character development, maturity, and sexual tension.

That being said, Slightly Wicked was a thoroughly enjoyable read, with a well-formed theme about responsibility. Rannulf and Judith are perfectly matched - Ralf is a man who fears he's spent too much time running from life and responsibility, while Judith takes her duties and obligations to her family so seriously that she often neglects her own life and needs. Mary Balogh brings together two fully-developed characters through unlikely circumstance, and keeps them together through delightful interaction, characterization, and romance.A-.

"The Hazards of Hunting a Duke," by Julia London

Alternate Title: Mawwage Bwings Uth Togethah

The Chick: Ava Fairchild. When her mother dies suddenly, her stepfather flies off to France to visit his mistress - with Mommy Dearest's fortune, and a promise to marry his meddlesome stepdaughters (and step-niece Greer) to the first men who ask him when he returns. So when Lord Middleton asks for her hand, Ava accepts, even though she doesn't know him very well. With her wifely allowance she should be able to keep her sister and cousin from being bartered off, and Middleton seems dashing enough.
The Rub: Although both she and Middleton entered into marriage for practical reasons, she finds herself falling in love with him. But Middleton still wants to keep the marriage practical - and, apparently, keep a mistress on the side.
Dream Casting: Becoming Jane's Anna Maxwell Martin.

The Dude: Jared Broderick, Marquis Middleton. When his strict father, Duke Redford, orders Jared to marry to perpetuate the ducal line, Jared decides to woo Ava Fairchild. She comes from a good enough family, is quite lovely, and most of all - isn't his father's choice.
The Rub: Jared married only to keep his father off his back - he doesn't actually want his life to change or anything. Too bad his heart (and his wife) feel differently.
Dream Casting: Rupert Penry-Jones.

The Plot:

Greedy Stepdad: Sorry your mom's dead, girls, but I have to run.

Ava, Phoebe, Greer: But what about our mom's fortune?

Greedy Stepdad: Take a chill pill! I'll get you married when I get back, then you won't need it!

Ava: Oh no you won't!

Jared: Marry me?

Ava: Oh yes I will!

Jared and Ava: *married*

Ava: Isn't this wonderful, Jared?

Jared: Marriage, responsibilities, mortgage payments, growing up, AAAAAUGH! *angst attack*

Miranda, Jared's ex-mistress: Hey, Big J. What, did I arrive at a comically inopportune moment to sow discord between you and your wife? My bad!

Ava: ... *glare*

Jared: Yeah, Miranda! *glare*

Ava: I'm done, Jared! *several realistic and understandable reasons*

Jared: But I love you, now! And I brought diamonds!

Ava: Oh, okay then.

Jared: Hooray!

Romance Convention Checklist:

1 Responsibility-Shirking Man-Boy

1 Greedy Stepfather

1 Slutty Maid

1 Romantically Lacklustre (but still relatively harmless) Rival

Several Big Misunderstandings

1 Evil Whore Mistress

1 Secret Baby

1 Very Bad (but Layered and Realistically Drawn!) Parent

1 Inconveniently Dead Mother

The Word: Something needs to be done about the titles of romance novels and series. Really. They set up expectations and assumptions that are in very many cases not true to the novel I'm actually reading. Let's take Julia London's The Hazards of Hunting a Duke, the first in a series called The Desperate Debutantes. I bought this novel at a second-hand bookstore, and I was honestly expecting it to be light and fluffy and maybe a little stupid, with a story about a larger-than-life bad-boy Marquis with the physique of bodybuilder falls for the feisty wench built like Tinkerbell who ignores all the laws of society and likes to wear pants and is just so cute when she ignores all of his meathead Alpha Male commands.

Boy, was I wrong.

Ava Fairchild loves to flirt and wear beautiful gowns and attend balls with her shyer sister Phoebe and cousin Greer. While she's received offers, she's remained unattached - after all, her mother possesses a sizable fortune of her own, so there's no rush. When her shoe breaks one day at a ball, she refuses a dance with Lord Middleton - a famous rake. Lord Middleton, for reasons he can't understand, is surprisingly hurt by this rejection, and when she enters his carriage accidentally at the ball's end, he punishes her with a little "harmless flirtation" (one of my few problems with this novel involves the categorization of this event - taking a woman's breast out of her dress and putting your mouth on it isn't "harmless flirtation" even by modern standards).

However, more than Ava's sexuality is changed that night: her mother perishes suddenly of a stroke, leaving her fortune in the hands of Ava's weaselly stepfather. Stepdaddy immediately claims all the money for himself, leaving Ava, Phoebe, and Greer without a penny for themselves - not even for servants. His reasoning for this stinginess is twofold: first, they won't need to socialize during the traditional year of mourning for their mother anyway. Secondly, he soon informs them, once he returns from partying in Paris with his mistress on his dead wife's tab, he plans to marry them off to the fastest and highest bidder.

One year later, the three girls' mourning period is almost up, and Stepdad is bound to return from Paris in a month. Ava, being the oldest, decides to bite the bullet and take it upon herself to marry someone rich, convenient, and right away - while she's always wished she could marry for love, if she marries now, she'll be able to support Phoebe and Greer so that they, at least, might have the luxury of waiting for the right man. Her eyes land on none other than Lord Middleton.

Conveniently enough, Jared, Lord Middleton, is looking for exactly the same thing. His cold, autocratic father has been pressuring him to marry for years, and, his patience wearing thin, has finally threatened to expose Jared's most embarassing secret if he doesn't buck up and perform his marrying and heir-begetting duties. However, his father's ideal pick (Lady Elizabeth Robertson) bores Jared to tears. He'd rather marry anyone than Lady Elizabeth. Truth be told, he'd rather marry nobody but his father's laid the hammer down. He decides on Ava - she's pretty, well-bred, and if the rumours are true, penniless and desperate.

However, their problems don't end once Ava and Jared are wed. Much like that other Julia (of the Quinn family), Julia London finds plenty of conflict to inflict on the characters after the vows are made. Ava and Jared's main problem stems from Jared's distance.

Jared's angst, on the surface, appears quite whiny and and childish but goes much deeper than that. Raised in a cold and mostly uncaring household where the duties of nobility were constantly impressed upon him, the words duty and obligation and tradition were forced down his throat so many times he rejects those concepts now out of habit. He grew up bent on determining the course of his own life, refusing to allow anyone else to inflict changes upon his well-ordered lifestyle, and it's this determination that drives a wedge between him and Ava.

Jared doesn't mind being married to Ava - he quickly realizes he rather enjoys it. However, the fact that he was forced (through his father's blackmail) to marry rankles and provokes him to keep Ava and the stirring feelings she creates at a distance. He performs his marital duties with her, but then he keeps her on his estate while he goes off on business, refusing to allow his life to change, to allow anyone other than himself to change it. Ava realizes her love for him relatively quickly after their marriage, and tries many (and frequently hilarious) methods for getting his attention, but whenever she tries to express her love and gain his in return he balks, and shakily refers to their original terms of marriage (the ones he controlled, naturally), both frightened and angered that she continues to expect more from him. His determination to be obligated to no one prevents him from offering more than what was strictly proscribed from the beginning.

This is another one of those rare romances where I enjoyed the heroine more than the hero. I related to and enjoyed reading about Ava. She enters into a marriage of convenience with a man she doesn't know very well, but once she realizes she loves him, she goes after him with every trick she has to make him hers, and hers only.

Ava, like Jared, is frequently bombarded with instructions on how to behave in society (from her mother's friend Lady Pernam and Jared's housekeeper Mrs Hilliers, for example), as well as what to expect from it. Her desire to be the loved by Jared (and to be the only one loved by Jared) is met with disdain or disbelief from others - even her own sister Phoebe thinks her expectations are unrealistic. But Ava doesn't care one wit for the expectations of a society marriage - she'll take what she wants by any means necessary, and I admired her for it, and how she managed to achieve it without becoming an anachronistic, shrill, or unreasonable character.

But, hoo boy, does she have to work for it. Jared and Ava's arguments are real and painful, based on well-written and realistically motivated fears and desires, and the injuries inflicted by those thorny knots of misunderstanding aren't easily healed. Lesser romances often have conflicts based on trifling problems, secrets, or contrived misunderstandings that, more often than not, are instantaneously and permanently healed by a big reveal at the ending. Not so here - the closest thing this novel has to a Big Misunderstanding comes with the character of Miranda, Jared's ex-mistress.

While Jared broke it off with Miranda before he married, Ava doesn't realize this. Throughout the novel she's plagued with the suspicion that Jared is cheating on her with Miranda, but Julia London provides us with a realistic misunderstanding that doesn't compromise the heroine's intelligence or provide an easy answer. Ava is confronted on all sides by reasons to believe Jared's adultery - not only by frequent reminders of society's tolerance of mistresses, but by Jared's own self-imposed distance and the remarks of the gossip papers. Jared only contributes to her suspicions, albeit unwittingly, with his repeated refusals to communicate for fear of becoming emotionally entangled. Ava's fears are well-founded and add a realistic amount of darkness to her struggles with Jared.

However, the more I empathized with Ava and her struggles, the less I understood Jared. By the later half of the novel, Jared and Ava's arguments are simple repetitions (Ava: "I love you!" Jared: "That wasn't part of the deal!"), in every instance ending with Jared's surprise that Ava expects more from their relationship. Julia London provides an excellent foundation for Jared's relunctance to relinquish control of his life, but his inability to perceive Ava's dissatisfaction - even after they repeatedly argue about it - stretches belief. Also, the novel hints that Jared feels unable to love anyone thanks to a bad experience in his past, but this element of his character and backstory is never satisfactorily explained. More than anything, Jared's character needs proper development and motivation since his is the character inflicting the most misery, unwitting or no.

The fact that Jared's character is less-than-completely developed is rather odd, considering how detailed and coloured even the secondary and tertiary characters in this novel are, particularly Jared's father, Duke Redford. He doesn't have a big part to play in this story, so London could have easily made him a cold, unfeeling Very Bad Parent. Instead she occasionally pushes the curtain aside to reveal a man trying to express his love and pride in his son, who nevertheless fails because he tries to do so within the bounds of strict societal rules that his son rejects. Even in a tiny villain role, the father's surprisingly three-dimensional portrayal provides an excellent thematic parallel between him and Jared's attempt to treat his wife in a rigidly traditional manner - demonstrating the bleak endpoint where Jared will end up if he doesn't change his ways.

This novel surprised and impressed me - what appeared, at first glance, to be a frothy and silly novel turned into a complex and developed tale about how responsibility, duty, and obligation all have a role to play in one's life - even if they shouldn't be all that life is. I'll definitely be looking for more Julia London books in the future. Hopefully, they'll get better titles.
B+.

Ya learn something new everyday...

Psst, readers, let me tell you one of my quirky flaws - sometimes I mispronounce words. I know what they mean because I read about them often, but they're the types of names or words that don't come up often in conversation with me (either because I'm a poor listener or I'm socially rather awkward), so I have an idea in my head of how they should sound that really isn't how they're pronounced. My family jokes about it quite a bit.

I used to pronounce "doctrines" as "doc-treens" instead of "doc-trins."

I used to pronounce the last name in "Simon and Schuster" as "shuster" instead of "shooster."

And, just now, reading an interview at The Good, the Bad, and The Unread, I discovered my favourite romance author, whom I've been pimping out to friends and other romance readers in person as well as online, pronounces her last name an entirely different way than I do.

Random Friend: "Recommend any books?"

Me: "Yeah, how about The Secret Pearl by Mary BAH-LOW."

*headdesk*

I dunno, I remember reading Mary Balogh's website and how her last name is Welsh, and perhaps I confused that with Gaelic, which uses a lot of consonants in ways they really aren't supposed to (hate elementary school teachers? Give your kid's name Gaelic spelling), and I also thought of words like slough and through and eventually narrowed it down (in my head) to an "oh" sound, or a "oh" sound with a weird little cough at the end.

According to the author herself, it's actually pronounced "Bah-log."

Reeeeeaally glad I figured that out before the RWA National Conference.

"Second Sight," by Amanda Quick

Alternate Title: Keeping Up with the Joneses

The Chick: Venetia Milton, a.k.a. "Venetia Jones." A struggling but talented photographer whose family depends on her income, when her latest wealthy client dies after paying her a kingly sum (and sharing a night of passion with her), in tribute to him she takes on his last name to start up her own photography business as a respectable widow.
The Rub: She's less than pleased when said client (Gabriel Jones), comes back from the dead and tells the public he's her long-lost husband.
Dream Casting: Lost in Austen's Morven Christie.

The Dude: Gabriel Jones. As a member of the Arcane Society -- a club of sorts for paranormal enthusiasts (and those with paranormal abilities) -- he faked his own death to flush out a thief who tried to steal a valuable alchemical formula from him. When Venetia's inopportune name-change foils his plans (supposedly), he declares himself Venetia's long-lost husband in order to protect her from those who might want to use her to get to him.
The Rub: Venetia refuses to listen to his perfectly rational, controlling demands! Also, he possesses psychic abilities he's not entirely comfortable with.
Dream Casting: Christian Bale.

The Plot:
Gabriel: You take great photos.

Venetia: Love me! Love me, you impetuous fool! *glomp*

Gabriel: Uh ... sure.

One Day Later

Gabriel *dies* (*OR DOES HE?*)

Venetia: Wow, that sucks - might as well use his name for respectibility, though. Hi, everyone! I'm Mrs Jones!

Gabriel: *back from dead* Hi, everyone, I'm her husband!

Venetia: Um, WTF, dude?

Gabriel: By taking the name Jones, you put yourself in great danger! You basically told the world you were my widow!

Venetia: I thought I was telling the world that I had one of England's most popular last names, actually.

Gabriel: Take a tip from me - you're prettier with your mouth closed. Let me do all the manly protecting and work!

Evil Killer: *bitten by snake while Gabriel gets ass kicked*

Evil Killer's Evil Girlfriend: *tricked by Venetia then pushed off a bridge by random secondary character*

Venetia: Yeah, you're sure doing a lot of protecting, all right.

Gabriel: Shut up and marry me.

Venetia: Okely dokely.

Romance Convention Checklist:

1 Fake Widow

Various Psychic Abilities

2 Counts of Muuuuurder

1 Alchemical MacGuffin

1 Bout of Car Sex (Victorian Equivalent)

Several Sweet Tranvestites

1 Duplicitous Solicitor

1 Evil Whore

2 Precocious Siblings

The Word: Second Sight opens with a prologue in which Gabriel Jones, our hero, and his cousin unearth the tomb of an ancient alchemist who, incidentally, founded the Arcane Society - the Victorian England Psychics'R'Us club that both the Jones boys are members of. Inside, they find a heavy strongbox with only an aged notebook inside that supposedly contains a formula capable of heightening psychic abilities. The Jones cousins don't get a good look at it, as almost immediately the book is stolen.

Sometime later, Gabriel Jones hires Venetia Milton, a budding photographer, to take pictures of some of the important Arcane Society artefects at his secretly secret isolated estate. While the gal takes good photos, she's secretly planning how to get into Gabriel's pants, for yes, she's one of those everyday, run-of-the-mill Victorian virgins who believe it's perfectly alright to have no-strings-attached sex with a near-complete stranger with no consequences. Where do romance heroines get these ideas?

Anyway, Gabriel finds nothing amiss about his Victorian virgin photographer's attempted seduction and promptly tumbles her. However, after a good bout of mattress dancing, Gabriel spots some intruders on his property and hustles Venetia out a secret passageway while he deals with the criminals himself. Venetia opens the paper the next day and discovers his death notice.

Thanks to Mr Jones' admirable habit of paying his photography bills in advance, Venetia now has enough cash to start her own studio. Deciding to pose as a widow to appear more respectable, she enters the London photography scene as Mrs Jones, as a subtle tribute to her deceased deflower-er.

She soons becomes a smashing success, but her plans go awry when the formerly-former Gabriel Jones re-appears in public, perfectly alive, and happily telling reporters that he's Venetia's husband. Reunited, he explains that the thieves who broke onto his estate tried to steal the strongbox (the one from the prologue). Since the notebook with the formula in it was already stolen, he assumes the box (or, more likely, the bizarre recipe carved onto its lid) is still somehow relevant to the formula. After moving the strongbox into storage, he faked his own death in an attempt to flush out the thief, but then someone had to impersonate his widow and ruin all his plans and now he has to force his way into her life to protect her and find the thief at the same time.

In a nutshell, he believes the dudes who came after him for the strongbox will now go after her - either to get to Gabriel himself through their marital ties, or to snatch any photographs she may have taken of the box.

This was the aspect of the plotline that threw me the most. First of all, Venetia never explicitly proclaims herself as Gabriel Jones' widow. She just calls herself Mrs Jones, never giving a husband's name, thinking (rightfully), that Jones is a popular, commonplace last name that really only carries a special significance for her. Gabriel, however, immediately jumps to the conclusion that she's intentionally posing as his widow. He then assumes that every villain will identify London's newest Mrs Jones as his widow as well - again, despite the fact that Jones is an exceedingly popular name, Venetia isn't even part of Gabriel's social circle, and their business interactions were confidential.

Secondly, I was bothered by the fact that Gabriel's plan to pose as Venetia's husband doesn't leave her with an exit strategy. Venetia is a talented photographer, but she's also a woman in society, and even the tiniest smudge on her reputation could damage or even cripple her career. Once Gabriel's business is finished, there's no way he can explain away posing as her husband (and moving into her house) that won't ruin her reputation. When he's actually questioned about this by a relative of Venetia's, Gabriel explains, "Oh, well hopefully she'll marry me for real." Which just plained bugged me, because essentially from the outset he leaves Venetia no other choice but to marry him, if she wants keep herself and her family out of ruin and poverty. Hawt.

Thirdly, Gabriel bemoans Venetia's thoughtlessness in drawing the villains' attention upon herself by claiming kinship with him by taking his name, and yet never thinks that he's doing the exact same thing (only much more effectively) by publically coming out as her husband. I mean, think like a villain: which would convince you more that Venetia is the wife of Gabriel Jones - the fact that she now has the last name Jones, or the proclamation Gabriel makes in the newspapers naming her as his wife? I mean, really. It's like Gabriel caught Venetia playing with matches in a wooden building, and decided to burn down the building to keep her from setting fire to it.

Once I recovered from this whoppingly contrived set-up, however, the progression of the mystery isn't that bad. Amanda Quick goes into some interesting detail about late nineteenth-century photography and introduces it into the setting and Venetia's lifestyle without resorting to infodumping. During the course of Venetia and Gabriel's search to find the thief, a lot of Venetia's photography expertise comes in handy.

That being said, I'd more categorize this novel as inoffensive than actually good. Venetia and Gabriel, once they finish their convoluted and unrealistic actions that introduce the story, aren't annoying or brash or irritatingly anachronistic - but they're not that interesting, either. When they're not explicitly furthering the plot, they're kind of blank.

In Venetia's case, she's supposed to be the sole provider for a family that's always been threatened by scandal. Venetia and her younger brother and sister enjoyed a normal life until their parents died and it was revealed her father was a bigamist - he already had a wife and kids squirrelled away elsewhere, meaning Venetia and her sibs were legally illegitimate. Not only that, but their dad's evil solicitor ran off with their inheritance and there wasn't a thing they could do about it without revealing their true status and socially dooming themselves. The only thing that kept them from poverty was Venetia's photography.

However, this never came into play with her character - I expected someone in her position to be more stressed, more dedicated - and particularly, more restrained. I never bought her anachronistic "I-deserve-one-night-of-passion" bullshit at the novel's beginning - this was before she even had a studio and still worked freelance, for Pete's sake! Given her situation, she had way too much to lose (like her family's entire financial future) by throwing herself on Gabriel, and what's worse is that her seduction of Gabriel is premeditated so the whole "spur-of-the-moment" excuse doesn't work either.

As well, the whole bigamist storyline seemed kind of pointless - there are a myriad ways to lose a fortune in 19th century England that are less flamboyant than this, and there seemed to be no particular use for it. You'd think the heartbreak of learning her father's marriage to her mother was false would have some sort of effect on how Venetia deals with her own pretend relationship with Gabriel, but it never comes up. I think I was more annoyed that Quick added the bigamist past and didn't make use of the obvious conflict than the fact that she employed a bigamist past in the first place.

The only real result of the bigamist storyline seems to concern the poorly-developed character of Venetia's little brother Edward - a boy we are told is ten but acts and is treated more like he's six (he thinks Daddy's a "big mist" - isn't that cute for a kindergartener?). Edward's sisters and aunt won't let him play with other children for fear he'll blurt out their secret uncontrollably (what, does he have 19th century Tourette's?), which proves to be a valid reason as he does blurt out his secret to Gabriel after about five minutes. But his loneliness allows Edward and Gabriel to bond, which immediately marks Gabriel as Good Husband Material.

Also, we have the whole plotline of paranormal abilities that, while it never bothered me, never appeared particularly important. Venetia can see auras and Gabriel, uh, can "smell the psychical spoor of violence," but both abilities are essentially window dressing. The characters don't really need them to solve the case and the instances where they do use their powers rarely give them any extra insight or advantage.

Gabriel's power ("violent spoor smelling"?) in particular is poorly developed - it's weakly hinted at the beginning that Gabriel is ashamed of his powers and thinks they're evil, but he never employs them enough to really explain why. He doesn't think of his powers that often, and he explicitly uses them all of four times in the entire novel, so the 11th-hour revelation that Gabriel considers himself a monster comes off as a paltry ploy to milk some angst out of an otherwise whitebread character.

However, all things considered, this book turned out much better than I was expecting. I didn't know precisely what it would be like reading Amanda Quick (a.k.a Jayne Ann Krentz), but my last experience with a romance novel by an author with a huge backlist purchased from a remainders bookstore didn't go so well.

Second Sight was well-written and moderately interesting, and full of interesting historical detail. I enjoyed reading it - its flaws mildly irritated me, whereas more annoying problems would have had me throwing the book at the wall (or, in my head, arguing, slapping, and beating some sense into the characters). Still, the characters came across more like blank slabs of clay shaped and coloured by how the plot had to progress, rather then as characters in their own right with distinct personalities and abilities that moved the plot forward naturally with their realistic motivations and decisions. B-.

"Broken Wing," by Judith James

Alternate Title: The Male Prostitute...He Goes To Work With Only His One Tool

The Chick: Sarah, Lady Munroe. When her investigators tracked her missing little brother Jamie to an infamous brothel, she assumed the worst. When she finds out that Gabriel St. Croix, the whorehouse's prime attraction, kept the boy safe for five years, she's overcome with sincerest gratitude ... and maybe something more.
The Rub: While she adores Gabriel practically from the get-go, even she can't ignore the fact that he's seriously damaged goods. Also, just because her other family members are grateful towards Gabriel for protecting Jamie, it doesn't mean they're going to be all sunshine-and-butterflies about their beloved Sarah falling for a seasoned streetwhore.
Dream Casting: Kate Winslet.

The Dude: Gabriel St. Croix. Abandoned at the brothel at a young age, he endured a lifetime of sexual and physical abuse to get where he is today. He protected Jamie not only to keep him from experiencing what Gabriel had, but also to give himself an emotional connection in a world that's otherwise dead and bleak to him. When Jamie's family offers Gabriel a place to stay and a wealthy sum in return for his actions, he accepts, seeing a way to free himself from prostitution, if not from the emotional emptiness that tears him up inside.
The Rub: He, too, almost immediately falls for Sarah, but his upbringing has made it difficult, if not impossible, to separate lust from love. He simply can't get his head around how Sarah could possibly love him, broken and used as he is.
Dream Casting: Dominic Cooper.

The Plot:
Sarah: Jamie! You're safe and pedo-free! How can this be?

Jamie: *points to Gabriel*

Gabriel: Hi! I'm an empty shell who drinks to make myself feel dead and cuts to make myself feel alive!

Ross, Sarah's Brother: Hey, dude, thanks for saving my brother and all. Want ten thousand pounds?

Gabriel: I'm kinda paid by the hour.

Ross: ...

Sarah: Oh, Gabriel, I love you!

Gabriel: Gee thanks, I want to fuck you, too.

Sarah: That's not what I mean, silly.

Gabriel: Oh, well then, I love you too!

Sarah: Hooray--

Gabriel: But now I have to go on a perilous sea voyage to earn your respect!

Sarah: But you already have--

Gabriel: BYEBYENOW *absconds* *vanishes*

Sarah: SHIT.

Several Years Later

Sarah: You're alive?!

Gabriel: Uh, yeah, I kinda got broken again.

Sarah: Oh you big silly! Come here, you!

Gabriel: Hooray!

Romance Convention Checklist
1 Lady In Pants

1 Broken Man Ho

1 Rascally Pirate Cousin

1 Evil Uncle (deceased)

1 Very Bad Husband (deceased)

1 Evil Gay Slaver

1 Bitchy Fake Mistress

2 Hot Dudes Who Will Be Getting Sequels, yesssss? (Jacques Valmont and William Killigrew)

The Plot: Kristie J from Ramblings on Romance read this book, adored it, and quickly started a quest where she enthusiastically pimped this novel to friends and fellow bloggers. Er...maybe pimped is an inappropriate term, given the contents of this novel.

Our hero Gabriel St. Croix is a whore, and has been ever since he was abandoned outside a Parisian brothel when he was only a child. Exploited and victimized ever since, he works and behaves with an icy detachment enabled through copious drink and self-mutilation, his only ambition to earn enough money to get himself out of the brothel and take himself somewhere nice where he can forcibly end his suffering for good.

For the last five years however, he maintained one tenuous link to humanity and compassion: Jamie, a child also abandoned to the dubious parenting abilities of the whorehouse by shady characters. Gabriel dedicated himself to protecting the boy, sacrificing his own comfort, dignity and body to convince the brothel owners to leave Jamie alone. However, Gabriel doesn't consider himself a philanthropist or a hero - in his eyes, his defense of Jamie was as wretched, desperate, and self-serving as all of his other actions, performed only to keep himself connected to companionship he doesn't deserve.

When, miraculously, relatives of Jamie's come all the way over from England to rescue the boy, Gabriel writhes in selfish, irrational hatred directed at the wealthy johnny-come-latelies here to take Jamie away from him.

Jamie's sister Sarah, and half-brother Ross, Earl of Huntington, are overjoyed to have found their brother after five years of fruitless searching. Their formerly close-knit family was torn in all directions by a conniving uncle who desired the title for himself: he left Ross to languish as an unransomed prisoner of war, married Sarah off to a vicious old man, and arranged for Jamie's kidnapping and subsequent abandonment at the brothel.

Both Sarah and Ross are doubly grateful to Gabriel for protecting Jamie from the horrors of prostitution. While Ross is leery of forming too close an acquaintance with a seasoned whore and would rather just pay the thoughtful catamite and take off, Jamie (who, now ten years old, spent half of his life under Gabriel's care) is frightened to leave the only guardian he can remember. Sarah hits on the idea of hiring Gabriel for a year to be Jamie's companion and help ease the child back into normal life, with a lucrative reward to be bestowed upon him at the end of his service.

Gabriel accepts their proposition, but he's accustomed to believing the hand that feeds him hides another hand that wants to do other things in return. Sarah falls for him right from the start - initially out of simple gratitude for protecting her brother from a terrible fate, but gradually more for the tender personality she occasionally spots peeping out from beneath his horrid web of scar tissue. However, Gabriel is at first harsh and cutting with her - entirely unused to love, he interprets her avid interest as lust and tries to play the whore to scare her off.

Sarah, however, refuses to be driven away, and the first third of the novel unfolds in a delicate, wonderful, unhurried fashion as the two slowly warm to each other, albeit not without some awkwardness. Sarah's love for Gabriel fascinates and terrifies him both, and he ends up revealing more and more about his past - thinking something eventually will disgust her enough to make her give up trying, but it backfires as the stories he considers sickening or indicative of his own weak and degraded nature only convince Sarah of his strength and courage that allowed him to emerge sane from such horrific experiences.

Sarah, meanwhile, gives her love openly and without compunction, but holds back on her lust. She does lust after pretty, pretty Gabriel (and who wouldn't?), but she's wary of revealing this to him or trying to act on it - the last thing she wants is to appear to be anything like the people who used and abused Gabriel for their own pleasure. As their relationship progresses and Gabriel starts making tentative moves on her, her reluctance to engage physically creates more misunderstanding and conflict the two have to work out.

The first third of this novel really involved me - the writing was simple but elegant, the characters were unconventional but not anachronistically so, and the conflict intricate, internal, and realistic. Gabriel is a character who has grown used to rigidly compartmentalizing his life, to the point where he almost has two personalities - he has his Real personality, a man who is warm and vulnerable but realistic, and then he has his Whore personality, a guarded, icy creature who performs with mechanical but emotionless precision. While his actual personality eventually befriends Sarah, when it comes to love, he automatically resorts to his Whore personality.

Sarah could have annoyed me - she's another one of those historical heroines who wear pants just for the heck of it, but James provides a realistic motivation for her behaviour that doesn't leave her as a 21st-century woman in a 19th-century story. Sarah intentionally ostracized herself from Society when she fled her abusive husband's house to help look for Ross and Jamie with her cousin Davey, and since she's ruined already, she simply sees no point in wearing uncomfortable clothes when there's no one to please. Her release from societal rules has left her incredibly confident and tolerant, which makes her the ideal candidate to try and introduce love and compassion to Gabriel, without setting off his knee-jerk Whore instincts.

That being said, despite all the wonderfulness, this only lasts for the first third of the book. Many times while I was reading this, I got the impression that Broken Wing might have made a better novella than a novel. The novel has a beautiful, unique setting (which even takes place out of England at points, le gasp!), beautiful writing, a great hero - but a plot structure that, if not outright contrived, is at least unfocused.

A lot of the goodwill engendered by the first third of the novel is drained in the second, where the narrative sags under a near complete lack of conflict. In the first part of the novel, Gabriel and Sarah explore love, but in the second part, they've found it already and just want to make it perfectly clear to everyone who is reading that they are IN LOVE and are PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER and ARE HAVING A FABULOUS TIME PURSUING A NUMBER OF INTERESTS. The second part of this novel was like reading someone else's vacation diary - "look at how much fun we're having!" - which left me bored and not a little concerned that I still had half a novel to go before the end.

I suppose by the end of this second act, Judith James must have realized it too, as at the start of the third act she introduces a conflict in a disappointingly contrived fashion: Gabriel decides to go privateering with Sarah's cousin Davey in order to earn his own fortune because, apparently, along with the confidence and improved self-image Sarah's company has given him, he's also acquired the Alpha Male tendency to never be happy unless he's paying for everything. It doesn't matter that she's a countess with a fortune of her own, oh no.

This third act, in which Gabriel is washed overboard and held captive by slavers and mercenaries, is altogether the weakest of the novel. Its tone and setting (especially its violence), is a vast change from the gentle, subtle wonders of the first act. This wouldn't have been such a problem if Gabriel and Sarah ended up achieving, improving from, or learning anything from the flamboyant drama of this last section, but instead it plays almost like a prequel to the events of the novel's introduction. Gabriel, captured by an evil former "employer," essentially falls off the wagon and becomes addicted to emo again, reverting completely to his belief that he's too dirty and broken and twisted for Sarah to love so there's no point in going back to her.

And when Sarah and Gabriel inevitably reunite years later, what we get is a condensed, Cole's Notes version of the first act when Sarah has to convince Gabriel that he's worthy of love, again, and forgive him of all of his faults, again. Only this time around this has to happen within the short span of a few pages (make way for the HEA!), and all the subtlety and nuance of Gabriel's conversion in the novel's first act goes out the window. Gabriel comes around (again) to Sarah's confidence in him far too quickly for a man who's spent the last several years re-convincing himself of his innate Whore-ableness. And for Sarah's part, I felt Sarah forgave Gabriel too easily with only a disturbingly token amount of betrayal. For a woman who had to spend the last couple of years sitting on her ass twiddling her thumbs because Gabriel fell off the deep end, I expected her to kick Gabriel's ass a bit more before humping him with wild abandon.

That being said, this novel was still a pleasure to read. Judith James has a knack for language that kept the prose (if not the plotting) lush without being purple. While I love me some Regency England, I enjoyed exploring settings outside the British Isles, her incorporation of historical events into the narrative, and her cosmopolitan cast. I still think Broken Wing could have been better plotted, and might have worked better in a shorter format, but while this book doesn't make the A grade I'll definitely be on the look-out for her next books. B.

"Romancing Mister Bridgerton," by Julia Quinn

Alternate Title: Pump Up the Volume, Regency-Style!

Spoiler Warning: Okay, I always warn about spoilers on my blog, but this one has a doozy that effects the previous three books of the Bridgerton series. If you're just getting into the series now - THIS HAS SPOILERS THAT AFFECT YOUR BOOKS. You have been warned. That is all.

The Chick: Penelope Featherington. Thanks to various personal problems over the years (weight issues, ugly dresses, skin problems, and shyness), she remained a perpetual wallflower and has accustomed herself with surprising contentment to the life of a spinster. Now twenty-eight and firmly on the shelf, she still has a crush on Colin Bridgerton, but believes nothing could ever come of it.
The Rub: One day, she stumbles upon Colin's private travel journals - and discovers they're actually good. Her passionate approval of them surprises Colin and makes him pay closer attention to her ... which puts secrets of her own at risk.
Dream Casting: Ginnifer Goodwin.

The Dude: Colin Bridgerton. Renowned for his rascally, charming ways and frequent travels out of England, he could charm the petticoats off of half the ton with his famous crooked grin. However, he feels strangely unfulfilled, until the woman he's known for years discovers and praises the writing talent he's suppressed.
The Rub: He's more used to taking Penelope for granted than for falling in love with her, and has to reevaluate his entire estimation of her when she reveals hidden reserves of wit, fire, and talent.
Dream Casting: Zachary Levi.

The Plot:
Penelope: Woe is me! I'm a spinster with an unrequited love!

Colin: Woe is me! I'm handsome, rich and popular, and yet strangely unfulfilled!

Penelope: Oh come on. Suck it up and grow a pair, why don't you?

Colin: *blink blink* You have pretty lips and boobies. And a spine! WHY HAVEN'T I NOTICED THAT BEFORE?

Penelope: Beats me! Oh, and I'm Lady Whistledown, too.

Colin: OMGWTFBBQ??! (copyright Smart Bitches) Ahem, well, that doesn't matter, because I love you!

Penelope: Oh good! I love you too!

Colin: Thanks to your support, I'm publishing my travel journals!

Penelope: And thanks to your love, I'm writing my first novel called - The Wallflower.

Colin: W-what...no - NO, it can't be!

Penelope: Oh yes it can - on top of being Lady Whistledown, I am also secretly *rips off disguise* LISA KLEYPAS!

Colin: AAAAAAAAAUGH!

Romance Convention Checklist

1 Rascally Rake

1 On-The-Shelf Spinster

1 Secret Talent

1 Secret Identity

1 Bitchy Blackmailer

1 Nosy BFF

1 Not-Very-Supportive Mother

1 Obvious Sequel Set Up (Eloise and her mysterious letters)

The Word: Back when I set out to read Lord of Scoundrels, one Anonymous Commenter warned me off it, and suggested I read Romancing Mr Bridgerton instead. Both novels, written by excellent historical romance authors at the peak of their abilities, have been hyped to high heaven. I already have high regard for what I've read of the Bridgerton series, so when many commenters and reviewers said they thought RMB was the best of the bunch, that notched my expectations for this novel significantly higher. Did it measure up? Read on.

Each Bridgerton novel I've read has had a cohesive theme that drives the romance, and RMB is no exception. Essentially, this novel is about taking things and people for granted. This theme is particularly suited to this story because the characters are ones that readers of the first three books should be familiar with: Colin (the rascally younger brother who pops up in all three books to cause mischief) and Penelope (the tragicomic best friend who hasn't a hope in hell of attracting a man because she's either fat, pimply, shy, or wearing a dress in a horrid colour). These two characters are not only known to Julia Quinn readers, but they're known to each other - or at least, they think they know each other.

When RMB begins, however, Penelope's Season days are far behind her: she's now content to be a twenty-eight-year-old spinster happily on the shelf right next to her BFF Eloise Bridgerton (also a spinster, albeit by choice rather than circumstance). Despite her utter lack of prospects, she's far happier now that no one expects anything of her than she ever was during her Seasons. The only fly in her ointment is her everlasting love for Colin. Oh, Colin, Colin, Colin. He's so dreamy and perfect and popular and handsome. But someone so pretty and flawless could never fall for an ugly duckling like me!

Penelope's thoughts tread a lot along this path until she accidentally comes across Colin's private travel journals, and discovers they're actually quite good. She also discovers, when Colin comes in and catches her, that he never had any intention of showing his journals to anyone and, despite his charming behaviour during social engagements, is as perfectly capable of throwing a temper tantrum as anyone else. While Colin takes great pleasure in his journal, he never planned to show it to anyone else, suspecting they might just emptily praise him because he's a popular Bridgerton rather than for his actual merit, and what he's always wanted ever since he can remember is to have an actual purpose in life other than to be popular and well-liked...

Wait, wait, wait - did I just accidentally pick up An Offer from a Gentleman? Isn't Benedict Bridgerton supposed to be the sibling with the artistic talent he's kept private, who, as a younger son, feels dissatisfied with his lack of definable purpose and identity? Am I having literary deja vu?

As it turns out, dear readers, I am not - Colin, more or less, has the same personal problems as Benedict. Only he's distressingly whinier and less subtle about it.

Of course, his hissy fit breaks Penelope's shiny perfect picture of him. He's a Bridgerton, and for years Penelope just assumed he lived a charmed life of oblivious happiness. She'd never thought he could be pissy, or petty, or jealous, or whiny. SURPRISE! And of course, when Penelope finally speaks her mind and praises his writing skills while at the same time giving him a scathing "I wish I had your problems, so quit your bitching" speech, Colin finds himself forced to reevaluate his image of Penelope that he's taken for granted all these years.

Their relationship takes another turn when a popular society matron offers a thousand pounds to whomever can unmask Lady Whistledown, a popular anonymous gossip columnist who's offended/entertained the ton for a decade without ever revealing her true identity. When a mean-spirited attention whore claims that she's Lady Whistledown, Colin catches Penelope in the act of delivering Lady W's final column that refutes the bitchface's claim.

Cue a chorus of "Whaaaaaaaaaat? Penelope is Lady Whistledown? No WAY!" Way. I had to admit I had a really hard time believing it at first. Julia Quinn set herself the incredibly difficult task of conveying events from Penelope's point of view without revealing that she's Lady Whistledown, even during scenes where Lady Whistledown's identity is the primary focus of the conversation. I actually found myself flipping back to all these scenes to see if she slipped up. While the writing's not necessarily on the wall, there are clues, albeit subtle ones, and most of these spring from Penelope's behaviour and how she reacts to certain comments.

Anyway, as believable or unbelievable as this may be, it does open up some interesting territory in RMB's romantic development. Colin and Penelope have known each other for so long that each has become the other's constant, in a way. To Penelope, no matter how dreary or humiliating her life became, she could count on Colin to always be confident and cheerful with a roguish grin on his face. Colin, meanwhile, seemed content to consider Penelope a particularly well-spoken and tasteful piece of window dressing.

Penelope's rude awakening that Colin has insecurities and asshat tendencies is not much of a jump, but Colin's reevaluation of Penelope is something to see. Coming to grips with the idea that Penelope might have feelings and opinions that actually matter is trying enough on the poor chap, but to discover that Penelope is not only capable of higher brain function, but is better at something than he is, is a new experience entirely.

Julia Quinn mines fertile (and rarely tilled) ground as the true impact of Colin's newfound love for Penelope sinks in. Unlike his married siblings, he doesn't have the chance to make a first impression, or a second, third, or thirty-third impression. He doesn't possess the luxury of showing only his best side, or editing his background. He doesn't get the meet-cute, or the misunderstanding, or (obviously) love at first sight. Realization dawns on him that he's let ten years' worth of chances with her go by, and that she already knows the best and worst of him, so the only chance he has now is to be taken as he is. He also has to come to terms with his misplaced pity for her. Frankly, there were times when thought of her as Poor Little Penelope (mainly because she often intentionally acts like Poor Little Penelope) - but now that he's head over heels in love with Poor Little Penelope, what does that make him?

That being said, I found RMB to be nowhere near as entertaining as An Offer from a Gentleman. The main (or, I should say, first) reason for this is that Colin - who was such a uniquely mischievous presence in the previous novels - comes off as terribly uninteresting in his own book. He was so much fun in the previous novels, and when the backcover blurb promised that he had a "secret," I was psyched. Yeah! Mischievous man-boy Colin has a secret! And it's...

A secret diary? Really? Who are you, Anne Frank? And a hidden artistic talent? What, again? Colin's predicament and sense of poor-little-rich-boy ennui is so obviously similar to Benedict's, and so much more poorly written, that it completely deflates the image built up for him by the previous books. At the very least, he deserved his own hang-up! I mean, in his extensive travels, he could have come across any number of problems - a rare disease, witnessing a crime, bankruptcy, a secret baby, anything but the same thing that plagued the hero in the book right before this one! It deeply disappointed me that a character who was such a memorable fixture in the previous books couldn't have an inner conflict uniquely suited to his character.

And on top of that, I never found Penelope's personality to be in sync with that of Lady Whistledown. Whistledown's columns opened every chapter of the Bridgerton novels leading up to this one, and they're all sarcastic, witty, and mature. Penelope, on the other hand, comes off as a marshmellow with sparkly eyes and chipmunk cheeks who uses the words "magical" and "soul" far too often. The idea, of course, behind Lady Whistledown is the Pump Up the Volume-esque idea that Lady W says all the things that Penelope is too shy and tongue-tied to say herself, but I didn't always buy it. Even when she's being "lively," she's a little too gooey for my taste, and a shade too cutesy to convince me she's responsible for Lady W's no-nonsense prose. I often found her actions, thoughts, and behaviour corresponded with someone much younger than she's supposed to be.

Also, the secondary characters (read: the other Bridgertons and their significant others) threaten to overcrowd important scenes with banter that becomes inane rather quickly (imagine two pages of a discussion on the metaphorical significance of glue). I kinda wanted to smack Hyacinth Bridgerton, but she wasn't nearly as irritating as Eloise, who comes off a shrill gossipy hypocrite who latches on with the unwanted tenacity of a bulldog to reveal other people's secrets but gets all huffy and offended when people ask after hers.

However, there were many good points to this novel. Again, Julia Quinn focuses more on dialogue and relationship dynamics than wacky twists of fate - when Colin stops navel-gazing and Penelope forgets to be sugary, their interactions are fairly entertaining. I enjoyed how ten years worth of taking each other for granted hampered their relationship, and how they have to overcome it. Penelope, without being a total dishrag, is so used to being socially rescued by the Bridgertons that she automatically assumes most of Colin's initial romantic overtures are performed out of pity. Colin, himself, is used to pitying Penelope.

Julia Quinn, thankfully, doesn't perform the mistake that many lesser authors have done by retconning this with convenient "Oh, I never really pitied you, I could always sense the spirited fire of your fiery spirit that you kept hidden" bullshit. Colin actually did pity Penelope and take her for granted for years and Quinn doesn't sugarcoat it or try to write it off, but instead uses it to spice his growing conflict as he realizes how incredibly wrong he was. His realization leaves him with real guilt and horror at how many times over the last decade he could have lost her forever without ever knowing what he could have had, and this inspires him to rather delightful feats of romantic forcefulness - particularly during my favourite scene in the novel, where Colin tries to announce his engagement to Penelope in front of her family, and finds this a more difficult task than he expected.

However, I'm sorry to say that my dear Anonymous Commenter is going to be very disappointed in me - I loved Lord of Scoundrels (and she did not), and, unfortunately, I wasn't overly impressed with Romancing Mister Bridgerton. While Julia Quinn's writing style is still lovely and some memorable scenes had me giggling, I had certain expectations for this novel that (whether they were fair or no) weren't met. Much of Colin's conflict felt like a re-tread of An Offer from a Gentleman (a book whose status as the Best of the Bridgertons remains unchallenged), and what original conflict remained wasn't enough to sustain my interest in the entire novel. B.

"Dead Until Dark," by Charlaine Harris

Alternate Title: Oh No! Vampire Bill!

The Chick: Sookie Stackhouse. A waitress in northern Louisiana, she falls for Bill, the new vampire in town, because not only is he dreamy and mysterious, but she's somehow unable to read his thoughts like she can with everyone else.
The Rub: With a killer on the loose murdering vampire groupies, now's not the best time to be dating the undead.
Dream Casting: Not today - I just based it on the casting from the HBO show.

The Dude: Bill Compton, a.k.a. "Vampire Bill." A Civil War-era vamp, he's trying to "mainstream it" (i.e. try to live openly and peacefully with humans), and feels a strange attraction to Sookie - a perky blond waitress who isn't the least afraid of him.
The Rub: Um, while Bill may be a gentleman, not all of his fellow vamps are keen on toeing the line. And some of those non-toeing-line vamps are keen on Sookie, too.

The Plot:
Sookie: I LOVE VAMPIRES!

Bill: Hi, I'm a vampire!

Sookie: I LOVE BILL!

Bill: I love you too, Sookie.

*several people die*

Sookie: I NEED SPACE!

Bill: Um, okay?

Sookie: BILL! WHY ARE YOU NEVER HERE WHEN I NEED YOU??

Bill: Because I'm WHIPPED, that's why!

Sookie: Oh alright, I love you again.

Bill: Hooray!

Romance Novel Conventions

2 Alluring Vampires

1 Perky Blonde Waitress

Several Murders

Several Quarts of Blood

Several Misunderstandings

The Word: Reading Charlaine Harris' Dead Until Dark was a bit of a let-down for me. To be fair, I didn't have the highest expectations for the novel as I whole. I got burned out of vampire romances early while reviewing novels for Green Man, and I never really got back in the groove. Vampire romances on TV have been fine - but the books I left by the wayside in favour of different fare. With Dead Until Dark, I watched the show first (True Blood), and one of my friends lent me a copy of the book after I talked about it, so this review is going to end up being someone comparative between the two.

In the world of the novel, vampires have just come out of the "coffin," thanks to new synthetic blood that makes feeding on humans unnecessary (or at least not as necessary), and they're now recognized as legal citizens with all the rights that regular human beings have. However, there are still a few bumps in the road to peace between humans and vampires, namely:

1. Not all humans are keen on welcoming vampires with open arms, and

2. Not all vampires are keen on restraining themselves to "mainstream" it - i.e. stop feeding on unwilling humans and try to live normal human lives.

In the middle of this political mess is Sookie, a young waitress living in Bon Temps, Louisiana who "enjoys" quirky outcast status thanks to her gift for reading people's minds. In fact, she doesn't refer to it as a gift - she calls it a "disability," which isn't entirely inaccurate. Because of the effort it takes to keep everyone's thoughts at bay and the incredible awkwardness of being forced to hear every date's private thought, she's curtailed her social life to practically nothing. Nearly everyone else in Bon Temps thinks she's harmless but crazy, except for her manager Sam, her waitress friend Arlene, her womanizing brother Jason, and her grandma.

When Bill strolls into town, Sookie immediately pegs him for a vampire and is entranced by a particular trait of his - it's not his pallor, or his fangs, or any other of the creepy vampire characteristics that have made "fang-bangers" (slutty vampire groupies) such a national punchline. When she looks at him, she hears .... complete and total silence. She's completely unable to hear what he's thinking, and it's a huge relief. Think of this as a gender-reversed Twilight attraction, if you will.

Bill starts to feel the same way about her, but both have to come to terms with the unexpected obstacles in their relationship - Bill can only come out at night, the other vampires he hangs out with aren't exactly the friendly type, human society isn't quite as welcoming of vampires as Sookie is, and someone in the town of Bon Temps has started murdering vampire groupies in gruesome ways.

I'll just come out and says this right away: I liked the TV show better. Gasp! Shock! That being said, the show wasn't perfect, either - some parts were painfully cheesy, while others were really entertaining. But either way, whether this will enrage Charlaine Harris' fans or not, I felt the show (in most ways) dealt with vampire culture and dating and the integration into the community better than the book did.

First of all, I notice that Charlaine Harris, or at least the narration of her main character Sookie, uses a lot of passive language and passive description. This left me feeling left out of the action, at a distance from what was going on, and as a result I was bored and uninterested. As well, while the vampires "coming out of the closet" is mentioned once in the beginning, the book never goes into any great detail on this fact - like, what are vampires doing all over the world? How is the government reacting to vampires? How are vampires getting jobs? Sookie claims to know a lot about vampires, but a lot of what she hears is vague, hearsay, or just plain wrong - which doesn't make sense in a society that has just accepted vampires and wants to know more about them.

True, you could argue that, as a humble Southern waitress, Sookie can't be expected to know everything - but she could at least hear something. We get nothing. The show, on the other hand, used a lot of clever ways to show how vampires were being accepted into the community (or not) - with everything from fake commercials for synthetic blood ("This blood's for you!"), clips of religious organizations hating on vampires shown on a TV in the background, articles about the Vampire Rights Movement (from the American Vampire League) being shown in a newspaper. It's just the little details, but the show manages to convey way more about the "vampire outing" phenomenon than the book did.

I mean, the idea of vampires being recognized as legal citizens is a unique one, and a lot of my disappointment about the book stemmed from the fact that Harris, while she creates this idea, doesn't back it up or build on it too much in the book.

That being said, the book does succeed in showing us the normal humdrum eccentricities about dating a vampire that are pretty funny - and different from a lot of vampire romances/shows I've read. None of this hiding in the shadows to steal a kiss or visiting Vampire Bill in a crypt scenarios - they go to the movies. They stay in and read. Sookie has to be careful what she eats and what jewellery she wears (so that she doesn't taste bad or hurt Bill will silver). Those little details, I think, were what kept Dead Until Dark from being a total wash-out.

These details really helped keep up my interest in this book, because the characters felt flat as paper to me. The first chapter did not set a good example, and it just continued on from there - our heroine (nudging the fourth wall) begins the book by describing herself, then introducing and subsequently describing all of her friends and Significant Characters like they were items in a catalogue. "Hi! I'm Sookie Stackhouse, I'm blond and pretty and have great legs - look! There's my Kooky Best Friend Arlene who has red hair and freckles, and there's my Selfish Brother who's hot and blond," etc. etc. Gee thanks for pointing out all the archtypes in your story right away, Sookie. I totally wouldn't have figured it out for myself eventually.

Most of the characters are described at face value and then don't contribute any real, well, character - most of it is "explained" to us by Sookie. Frankly, I shouldn't have to be told what characters are like, they should be able to show me all by themselves. Maybe I'm a little biased because all my absolute favourite characters on the show are, in the book, either absent (where is Tara? She's fantastic!) or abbreviated (Jason, Lafayette, and to a lesser extent, Sam), but most of the characters in the book (other than Bill and Sookie), were cardboard.

One example I found was with the character of Sam (spoilers ahoy): I actually found that Sam's character was better developed on True Blood than in Dead Until Dark, particularly with his power. In both versions, he's a shape-shifter. In the novel, however, he springs this on Sookie rather suddenly, and Sookie, after a "huh" moment, accepts it, and then never brings it up again. Furthermore, there was very little build-up or foreshadowing to Sam's ability in the novel. It just seemed to come out of nowhere, and then it was instantly accepted like normal, and I didn't buy that for one second. True Blood plays the shifting more into Sam's quiet, shy character and provides some nice foreshadowing beforehand (and Sookie's famous reaction to it is hilarious).

That being said, the show didn't always improve on the original. I was surprised to find out that the love scenes in Dead Until Dark are actually really gentle and sweet - and really tame, especially considering it's a romance. So, of course, there really isn't a good explanation for the incredibly, uncomfortably graphic sex scenes in True Blood, other than the crappy excuse of "It's HBO - what else are you watching it for?" I never thought the raunchy nude scenes in True Blood were necessary, but figured if it was part of the novel, then I couldn't complain. Well, news flash - they weren't.

Yes, True Blood is based on Dead Until Dark, and it's more or less true to the events of the novel - but put side-by-side, I believed the events of True Blood more because the writers provided a context, structure, and foreshadowing that gave credence to the actions and events in the narrative that Dead Until Dark (with its unnecessarily limited narrator) didn't.

True Blood: B. Dead Until Dark: C.