Intentions Are Important

I'm currently reading Miranda Neville's second-chance-romance novella Duchess of Scandal in the anthology Dancing in the Duke's Arms. There's a bit of dialogue that really stayed with me. A married couple's discussion of current events morphs into a less hypothetical discussion of practical issues on the estate and an exploration of each other's priorities.

She wrinkled her forehead. "Do you mean you wish to help the poor to prevent unrest, not because you think it's right to relieve misery?"

The question made him uncomfortable because he wasn't sure of the answer. His wife was a lot subtler in her ideas than he had ever suspected. "Does it matter? Doesn't it come to the same thing?"

"In practical terms, yes. But intentions are important. I would prefer you to leave Mrs. Trumbull's laundry alone because you see the justice of her need to dry her children's clothes, not because you don't wish to quarrel with me and spoil your dinner."

That captures nearly perfectly my feelings about romance heroes. I would prefer them to care about other people and have a sense of justice. Whatever the conflict may be, I can more readily forgive alphole behavior if it is motivated by concern for others (like the welfare of the hero's family or other dependents) rather than a drive for power or prestige.

R E S P E C T

I recently read a romance novel that was recommended by a friend. It was a well-written Regency-set historical, which kept me reading despite the presence of a trope I really hate, the Evil Mother.

All too often, the Evil Mother is used to explain (and excuse) an alpha hero's misogyny. This book took it up a notch. The mother was intentionally cruel to one of her children (the hero). He also had an unfaithful ex-fiancée who confirmed his worldview that women are not to be trusted and love will destroy a man.

Sometimes a misogynist alpha hero is so cartoonish that I can enjoy the book ironically and revel in his eventual grovel and redemption by the love of the heroine. This book's alpha hero was not at all cartoonish. He was entirely realistic in the way he acted on his attraction to the heroine, seduced her into not-quite-proper behavior, then treated her with contempt. He was also realistic in the way he sincerely apologized the next day with flowers and kind words, keeping her emotionally off-balance and reeling her in.

That is precisely the way that abusers keep their victims in the relationship. As a child, I had a female relative who was occasionally beaten by her husband. At least twice that I know of, she decided to leave him, only to come back after he presented her with a lavish gift and promised to never do it again. She finally had enough and divorced him, but it took several years.

I find myself unable to believe in a hero who treats most women with contempt but magically recognizes that the heroine is different. The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. For me, the best predictor of a Happily Ever After is the way the hero treats the other women in his life. He may be opposed to marriage or commitment, he may dislike and avoid a particular type of woman, but that does not require him to despise women in general.

The only romance with a misogynist hero that worked for me was The Dangerous Viscount by Miranda Neville. In that case, Sebastian was still a work in progress. He had very limited experience with women, and he was mainly parroting the opinions of the uncle who raised him. It wasn't so much a magical transformation as a gradual education that brought him around. He was also a victim of bullying and felt the need to act out a sort of revenge fantasy. I could deeply sympathize with that.

I greatly prefer heroes who like and respect women in general, even if they need to adjust their attitudes about a woman's proper place (after all, if there were no initial conflict, the book would be no fun).

My Top Five

NPR is celebrating romance with the NPR Books Summer of Love. Click on the link to nominate up to five of your favorite romance novels (or series; a short series can be nominated as a unit).

It was very hard to pick five. There are so many excellent romances out there. All of my nominees are historicals (since that is my preferred subgenre). All are by authors with several other excellent books waiting to be discovered by new readers.

They are also books that I have discussed before on my blog, because they have particular qualities or themes that resonate with me, or particularly memorable characters.

So here are the five that I nominated to NPR:

1. The Forbidden Rose by Joanna Bourne - I could have nominated her entire Spymaster series (and I suspect some other readers did exactly that). I selected this single book instead, because I think it is an excellent introduction to her work. It is a fantastic tale of suspense, intrigue and romance during the Reign of Terror. The plot contains some nods to The Scarlet Pimpernel and Les Miserables. The heroine is an aristocrat with a fugitive mad scholar father and a scheming cousin. The hero is a British spy with his own family issues. The marvelous secondary characters nearly steal the book. The final scene is beautiful and poignant (and appears again from a different point of view in a later book in the series).

2. Mr. Impossible by Loretta Chase - This is a rollicking Egyptian adventure featuring an independent widow trying to decipher the Rosetta Stone and a ne'er-do-well who is entirely honest about his nature: “I may be stupid,” Rupert said, “but I’m irresistibly attractive.”...“And being a great, dumb ox,” he went on, “I’m wonderfully easy to manage.” He is unapologetic about his appetites and surprised by the heroine's inhibitions, but he treats her with respect. He is my favorite type of rake. As a fan of both Elizabeth Peters' Amelia Peabody series and the Brendan Fraser movie The Mummy, I really enjoyed the plot, and the characters are wonderful. This is Book 2 in her Carsington Brothers series, and definitely my favorite.

3. Confessions from an Arranged Marriage by Miranda Neville - This is one of my favorite bluestocking/rake romances. It also features a rare example of a romance heroine with living, supportive parents. Although the hero has a troubled relationship with his father, his mother is also decent and loving. This is extremely refreshing after reading so many historical romances where the hero is a misogynist thanks to a toxic mother. The book is also a marriage of convenience romance, and Neville skillfully shows love and trust developing between two people who didn't even like each other before they were forced to marry. They become true partners, helping each other achieve long-held ambitions, overcome old fears, and fulfill their new responsibilities.

4. A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare - Another delightful bluestocking/rake romance. This one is also a road trip romance, another trope that I enjoy. The hero has hidden pain, and the heroine has scholarly ambitions. They bond during a trip to Edinburgh that is filled with misadventures. They also get up to quite a bit of naughtiness on the road. This is part of the author's Spindle Cove series, which was hit-and-miss for me. I have enjoyed most of Tessa Dare's books, but this one is my favorite by far.

5. Flowers From the Storm by Laura Kinsale - This is the oldest book I nominated, originally published in 1992. It has a very unusual plot and wonderful writing. Kinsale was among the first romance authors to create deeply damaged but redeemable heroes, and no one does it better. The hero is a duke and also a genius mathematician. He is every bit as arrogant and selfish as his rank and privilege can make him. Then he suffers a cerebral hemorrhage that damages his brain and leaves him at the mercy of unscrupulous relatives, who have him committed to an asylum. He learns who his true friends are, including a Quaker mathematical colleague and his daughter Maddie (the heroine).

I wish I could have nominated more than five.

The Joys of Finding One's Tribe

There have been a great many recent blog posts in the wake of last month's RT Booklovers Convention celebrating the warmth and acceptance within the romance community. Since a great many romance readers and writers are shy introverts by nature, it can be a surprise to not feel like an odd duck in social situations. It can also be a tremendous relief to be surrounded by others who share your interests. So many of us self-censor our opinions and preferences in order to fit in.

It is often the case that the heroine of a romance novel is a social misfit in some way. This is a useful plot device, since it serves to emotionally isolate her and thus boost the impact of her growing romance with the hero. It also creates reader sympathy for the heroine, since so many of us had unpleasant experiences in high school. We can easily imagine the pain of ostracized by the ton because we were once ostracized by the popular kids.

As happy as it makes me to read about the heroine falling in mutual love with a hero who accepts her for her true self, there is an added pleasure to reading a story where the awkward heroine finds a group of friends who also accept her. Often, it is the support of such friends who enable the heroine to shine and attract the hero (since self-confidence is very attractive).

Tessa Dare wrote an entire series around the premise of a quiet resort town where socially awkward ladies could find acceptance. Spindle Cove is introduced in A Night to Surrender and revisited in three more full-length novels and two novellas. Dare's misfit heroines who find acceptance included bluestockings, an asthma sufferer, a young woman with a port-wine stain covering much of her face, and a working-class tavern wench who becomes a duchess.

Miranda Neville's Wild Quartet series revolved around a group of bohemian friends known as the Townsend Set (after a couple who hosted informal salons in their home and regularly fed starving artists). In Lady Windermere's Lover, Cynthia first finds love and acceptance not from her husband (who treated her quite shamefully during the early days of their marriage) but from his old friends, Caro Townsend and Julian Denford. Coming from a middle-class background, Cynthia was completely isolated after her marriage. Having Caro to take her under her wing and Julian to escort her around town allowed her to blossom and find a place in her husband's world. It also allowed her to stand up for herself when he returned from a diplomatic posting abroad.

Courtney Milan's The Heiress Effect features a heroine whose social isolation is largely by choice (she has reasons for wishing to avoid marriage without having to actually turn down a decent proposal). In a delightful twist, the two frenemies who pretended to befriend her in order to make her look ridiculous turned into genuine friends who stood by her when it really counted.

As much as I enjoy reading a novel that includes already-established, strong female friendships, there is a special joy in a story where the heroine finds genuine friendship and acceptance for the first time, apart from the romance.

Lingering in Old School Venice

Reading The Courtesan Duchess put me in the mood for more historical romances set in Venice. I pulled out a book that has been in my TBR pile for several months -- the recent reprint of Anne Stuart's Demon Count Novels (available in print as well as the ebook collection mentioned on the website).

 The novels were originally published in 1980, and it shows (in a good way). So far, I have only read the first one (The Demon Count). It is an obvious homage to gothic novels. Like Jane Eyre, it is told in first person. Unlike many recent first person new adult romances, there is only one narrator, so we only get the heroine's point of view. The eponymous count remains a figure of mystery for most of the novel. Is he an evil murderer? A spy? A vampire, as the superstitious locals believe?

Like many old school historical romances, it contains an emotionally-distant older hero who is frequently patronizing and occasionally abusive toward the heroine. There is much melodrama, described with many adjectives. The setting is exotic. The heroine had a toxic mother, and the hero had a toxic wife (now deceased). Unlike most old school romances, however, the heroine is rather savvy and cynical (except when she is occasionally naïve and trusting).

Anne Stuart has fun with genre tropes. There are surly servants and rival suitors. The palazzo is crumbling and filthy, like every good haunted house should be. There is a secret room. The heroine survives multiple attempts on her life (one of which is averted by a heroic 20-pound cat). At one point, the demon count responds to the heroine's suspicions by telling her she should re-read Northanger Abbey (itself a parody of gothic novels, in which the heroine suspects her host is a vampire who murdered his late wife).

I did not get the impression that Anne Stuart actually visited Venice before writing the book. There is an obligatory visit to Florian's, and a reference to some other characters going to Torcello for a picnic, but there is a dearth of detail about those places. Joanna Shupe used both of those settings in The Courtesan Duchess and made me feel like she had been there. The descriptions of Venice in The Demon Count could have come from any guidebook (or a great many movies).

Still, I loved the general atmosphere, and I have sufficient memories (and vacation photos) of my own to imagine in vivid detail the canals, campos and crumbling palazzos that Charlotte Morrow encountered in Venice.

Mothers and Daughters

It is a truth almost universally acknowledged that the heroine of a romance novel must be in want of a mother. She may be an orphan, or she may be the abused/neglected child of a toxic mother, but the vast majority of romance heroines are somehow separated from a mother's love.

There are compelling reasons for this. Isolating the heroine from unconditional love makes her eventual connection with the hero that much more important. We feel sympathy for her, which makes us more inclined to read her story and cheer for her eventual Happily Ever After. It is slightly less common for the hero to suffer a lack of mothering. He is a bit more likely than the heroine to have a toxic mother (it is often the reason for an alpha hero's general mistrust of women, bordering on misogyny).

I find myself much more willing to read a story about an orphan heroine (or hero) than one with a toxic mother. That might be due to the little bit I've read about human psychology. An individual who has been completely robbed of a mother's love is not well-equipped to accept love from others.

I remember reading about the heartbreaking experiments that Harry Harlow did with rhesus monkeys at my alma mater (I took a psychology course from one of his former teaching assistants). Baby monkeys were separated from their mothers. Some were given occasional physical contact with their mothers, and some were given no contact at all (a control group remained with their mothers all of the time). The ones who received limited contact were very clingy and anxious. In a group, they all huddled together. The ones who received no contact were hostile and aggressive. They did not like to be touched and would respond to overtures with violence.

Our parents are the only people from whom we can reasonably expect unconditional love. When their love is deliberately withheld, it damages our ability to trust and connect with others. I find it difficult to suspend my disbelief when a heroine raised by a truly toxic mother is transformed almost overnight by the love of a good man. It mirrors the notion that a hardened criminal can be reformed by the love of a good woman. That may be a popular trope in motorcycle club romances, but in real life the best that such a woman can look forward to is occasional conjugal visits for good behavior.

Looking through the historical romances I have enjoyed enough to re-read, most of them feature heroines who were orphaned but knew the love of parents or guardians for at least part of their formative years. Some are those rare romance novels with heroines whose mothers are still living and not toxic (although they may be somewhat challenging).

Julia Quinn's Bridgerton series - Although my favorite Bridgerton novel is actually about one of the sons, there are four books featuring heroines raised by loving family matriarch Violet Bridgerton. Of those, my favorite is To Sir Philip, With Love. (Perhaps not) ironically, Hyacinth becomes a loving stepmother to children whose own mother neglected them.

Confessions from an Arranged Marriage by Miranda Neville - Minerva Montrose's parents are both living. They are eccentric but loving, and their children are all well-adjusted. Minerva's sister Diana is the heroine of The Dangerous Viscount, so that is another book I could name with a living, loving mother.

The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan - I have to give a special Mothers Day shout-out to this book. Violet Waterfield has a formidable mother. She has imposed rigid rules on her daughters to help the family weather the old scandal of their father's suicide. Violet has always feared her mother will reject her if Violet reveals her shocking scientific studies. In the end, her mother's love is truly unconditional and unlimited. Violet must learn that before she can accept Sebastian's love as well.

A Gentleman Undone by Cecilia Grant - Lydia Slaughter's parents stood by her when she fell pregnant out of wedlock. They uprooted the family and moved to a village where no one knew her, to help shield her from the consequences. After their tragic death (I don't recall the circumstances, but I think it was a carriage accident), she blamed herself and embarked on a self-destructive path. Will Blackshear eventually convinced her that she is worthy of love, but that would not have been possible if she had not already known the love of her parents.

Secrets of a Scandalous Heiress by Theresa Romain - Augusta Meredith is mourning the recent death of her parents (in a boating accident rather than a carriage accident) and the defection of her lover. She longs for human connection to comfort her in her grief.

The Spymaster's Lady by Joanna Bourne - Annique Villiers is mourning the recent loss of her mother (whose carriage went over a cliff). Madame Lucille raised her daughter to be an elite spy for the French Secret Police, and Annique has been an exemplary pupil. Over the course of the book, she learns secrets about her beloved mother that force her to question everything she believes. In the end, though, she forgives her mother for the choices she made and accepts that she truly loved her.

A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare - Minerva Highwood's mother is clueless and social-climbing, but she does love her daughters. She reminds me very much of Mrs. Bennett in Pride and Prejudice. Minerva is shy and socially awkward, but she is not emotionally damaged. She is well able to fall in love and be loved in return. Minerva's sister (another Diana) got her own novella, Beauty and the Blacksmith.

My Favorite Rakes

I've been thinking about some of my favorite rakes from 30+ years of reading romances. Some of them were heroes, and some were secondary characters, but they were all men who enjoyed the company of women for friendship as well as for sex. They were all sex-positive, not slut-shaming (philogynist, not misogynist). They were not bitter and mistrustful due to a toxic mother or ex. It seems to me that a rake of this sort is a much better candidate for a committed, long-term relationship than one who needs to learn that women are human beings who are worth talking to.

Here are the fictional rakes whom I remember most fondly even many years later, in chronological (for me) order. I've listed the year in which I read the relevant book(s). For some reason, the books I read in the 1990s didn't have memorable rakes of this type, so there is a lengthy gap.

Spider Elliott from Scruples by Judith Krantz (ca. 1980) - My first example of the species, encountered when I was very young and impressionable. Despite having his heart broken by a beautiful actress, Spider did not resent women in general. He was a considerate (and enthusiastic) lover who also developed a strong platonic friendship with a female colleague. It didn't hurt that in the 1980s TV movie, he was played by my crush at the time, Dirk Benedict from Battlestar Galactica.

Raven from The Windflower by Tom and Sharon Curtis (1984) - Like Spider, Raven was a secondary character. He was also far too young and clueless to be a good relationship prospect. However, I have no doubt that the teenaged Caribbean pirate grew up and settled down with some lucky woman 20-some years later. Unlike Cat, who had serious emotional baggage, and Devon, who had some unpleasant attitudes towards women, Raven was the kind of guy you could comfortably hang out with all night at a party. He would undoubtedly proposition you, but he would cheerfully accept "no" for an answer and still enjoy the conversation.

Sir Gawain (late 1980s) - In college, I took as many medieval literature courses as my schedule could accommodate. I developed a strong love for Arthurian romances. For hundreds of years, before Sir Thomas Malory's works were written, Sir Gawain was the most popular hero of English-language Arthurian tales. He was known for his courtesy and charm, as well as his numerous romantic conquests. Malory, drawing on the French Vulgate cycle, made Sir Lancelot the pre-eminent hero, and Gawain's character was somewhat blackened in contrast. Some modern authors have given Gawain his due, notably Thomas Berger in Arthur Rex and Sharan Newman in her Guinevere Trilogy.

Colin Bridgerton from Romancing Mr. Bridgerton by Julia Quinn (2002) - This is my favorite book in the Bridgerton series. Colin is not only handsome and charming, he is kind to wallflowers. He treats socially awkward Penelope with respect and forges a friendship with her long before he feels a spark of physical attraction. As a former chubby wallflower myself, I found him irresistible.

Rupert Carsington from Mr. Impossible by Loretta Chase (2006) - When he meets Daphne Pembroke, Rupert is entirely honest about his character traits:

“I may be stupid,” Rupert said, “but I’m irresistibly attractive.”...“And being a great, dumb ox,” he went on, “I’m wonderfully easy to manage.”

Colin Sandhurst from A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare (2012) -  Colin never sleeps alone. Literally -- he suffers from severe nightmares, due to a childhood trauma, when he falls asleep without the comfort of a woman beside him. He does not demand sex from his bed partners, but he won't turn it down if it's offered. When bluestocking Minerva Highwood bribes him to take her to Edinburgh, his personal sleep disorder forces them into close proximity during the journey, and Minerva finds the whole experience very educational.

Adrian Hawkhurst from Joanna Bourne's Spymaster series (2015) - When I read The Spymaster's Lady, I found young Hawker more compelling than the book's hero. Despite his brutal Artful Dodger upbringing in London's rookeries, he managed to develop a tender appreciation for females: "He never understood the way some men treated women. Himself, he never got tired of the marvel of them. The sounds they made when they felt good. When you made them feel good. There was nothing in the world like it." No wonder those widows in Milan remembered Hawker so fondly.

The Spies Whom I Loved

I don't read very many romance novels featuring spies. I usually get my spy fix from movies. This should be a particularly good year for that, with Kingsman: The Secret Service, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and Spectre all being released in 2015.

I prefer my romances less heavy on the suspense elements, so I tend to avoid spy-themed books. However, I do occasionally read a historical romance by a favorite author that features a spy hero and/or heroine. Some of those books have really stayed with me. Here are some that continue to be among my favorites:

Captives of the Night by Loretta Chase - The extremely handsome and charming Comte d'Esmond is really a spy for the British. He developed an unrequited and inconvenient passion for married Leila Beaumont. When her husband is murdered, circumstances force them together, but his dark secrets threaten to tear them apart. He is exactly the kind of fictional spy who intrigues me most -- cosmopolitan, witty, and smoking hot.


Your Scandalous Ways by Loretta Chase - A cynical British spy named James is on a mission in Venice. His assignment leads him to fallen woman Francesca Bonnard. I loved the setting and the very subtle nods to various James Bond films. The whole book was a delightful good time.

Anything by Joanna Bourne. Since I normally avoid spy romances, I did not discover Joanna Bourne until this year. The reviews for her latest book, Rogue Spy, led me to try her back catalog. I am currently on Book 4, and I have loved every page so far. She skillfully inter-weaves the suspense plots (set during the Reign of Terror and the Napoleonic Wars) and the romance plots, creates compelling secondary characters and writes the best damaged-but-redeemable heroes since Laura Kinsale.

What Happens in London by Julia Quinn - This is a more light and humorous novel than the others. Sir Harry Valentine is not really a professional spy (he works as a translator for the War Office), but he is forced to behave like one. Olivia Bevelstoke plays amateur spy herself, as she suspects her neighbor is up to something dastardly and decides to find out for herself. There are some playful nods to Hitchcock films (I seem to remember that the author considered calling this book The Trouble With Harry).

Bluestockings and Rakes

I've just started reading The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan. The plot involves a female scientist who can only publish her theories by allowing a male friend to take the credit. The hero is a charming rake who wants to finally end the charade. It occurred to me that a good portion of my all-time favorite historical romances have a bluestocking + rake plot.

I can understand why that particular trope appeals to me. I am a nerdy introvert. In school, I was shy and awkward, with very few friends. As an adult, once I broadened by horizons and my social circle, I was drawn to extrovert friends of both sexes. Extroverts can compensate for my own social deficits. There are few awkward silences, and I do not have to worry about thinking of an interesting conversation-starter. At a party, if I have used up my social energy, I can retreat to the fringes of the group and allow my extrovert friends to hold court, with no one noticing my withdrawal.

I married another introvert. I do not know if I could live with an extrovert in real life. I fear that I would find it exhausting. However, in the pages of a romance novel, where a happily-ever-after is assured, I love the idea of a quiet bluestocking being swept off her feet by a charming rake.

Here are some of my very favorite bluestocking/rake romances:

Mr. Impossible by Loretta Chase - Daphne is a scholar who is trying to decipher the Rosetta Stone. She encounters Rupert in Cairo, where they form a reluctant alliance. The set-up bears a resemblance to the beginning of the Brendan Fraser movie The Mummy (which I also love). No one expects much of Rupert (including his own family). He is unapologetic about his appetites and surprised by Daphne's inhibitions, but he treats her with respect. He is my favorite type of rake. I have never cared for the misogynist rake that one often finds in romance novels. That type has a general contempt for women, because either an ex or his mother behaved contemptibly in the past. I prefer the cheerful sort of rake who truly enjoys the company of women. I think that sort is a much better candidate for reform.

Confessions from an Arranged Marriage by Miranda Neville - Minerva's great ambition is to be a political hostess. She has studied history, diplomacy and the events of the day with an aim toward becoming a politician's wife. Blake is the rebellious heir of a Duke who shuns serious discussions and has no interest in books. They are forced to marry when a drunken Blake accidentally compromises Minerva at a party (after mistaking her for another woman). As the title says, this is a marriage of convenience romance, where the couple must learn to live together and fall in love after they are already married. Minerva feels contempt for Blake, whom she believes to be shallow and immature. She also resents having her life plans changed. Of course, she eventually discovers that there is far more to her husband than she assumed, and his charming rake persona hides a deep secret.

Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale - I almost didn't include this one, because it does not fit the usual model. The rakish hero, Christian, is a brilliant mathematician. The heroine, Maddy (short for Archimedea), is the daughter of another mathematician but is not as educated as the hero. She is quiet and reserved, however, and she thoroughly disapproves of the hero's dissipated lifestyle (she is a devout Quaker). They are thrown together through unusual circumstances, and Christian must overcome Maddy's reluctance to trust him and her vehement dislike of his priorities. It can also be classified as a marriage of convenience romance. This is one of those books that people remember for years after reading it. It includes a cameo by George IV, who doesn't seem like such a bad guy in this book.

A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare - Another heroine named Minerva has discovered a dinosaur fossil. She wants to present her findings at an academic conference in Edinburgh, but her mother would never allow it. She bribes cash-strapped rake Colin to fake an elopement and get her there in time. This is a road trip romance, another trope that I enjoy. Their humorous misadventures often approach farce, which may not be to everyone's taste, but A Week to Be Wicked is the quintessential bluestocking/rake story. Colin loves women and sex. Minerva is sheltered but curious. They are forced into close proximity. It doesn't take a brilliant bluestocking to do the math.

Book Stores I Have Known, Loved and Mourned

A post today on the Word Wenches blog got me thinking about the various bricks-and-mortar bookstores I have patronized over the years.

Living in a book-loving university town, I was spoiled for choice back in the day. Before the big-box bookstores moved in, though, the only places I could buy romance novels seemed to be the grocery store and the chain stores at the mall (Waldenbooks or B. Dalton Bookseller). Madison's wonderful independent bookstores tended to snub romance, although they were filled with many other wonderful things.

Avol's was the largest of the used book stores near the UW campus. During my college days, it was located in a beautiful old mansion that was built in 1907 to house the Women's Club of Madison. When they lost their lease in 2003, Avol's eventually moved into the Canterbury space (see below). The Women's Club building now houses one of my favorite restaurants.

Booked for Murder specialized in mystery and suspense novels, as one might guess from the name. It was a wonderful place to browse -- they had a wonderful curated collection of new and classic mystery/suspense novels. They regularly hosted author book-signing events. I remember meeting Sharan Newman there more than 18 years ago (I would not have believed it was that long, but the inscription in my copy of Strong As Death is dated October 15, 1996). A few years ago, the store was sold, moved and renamed. Its successor, Mystery to Me, is still going strong, happily.

Borders was the first big-box bookstore in town. I loved it. In the days before author websites and Amazon algorithms, I used to browse their "new releases" shelves for favorite authors' names. They had terrific genre fiction sections, and their membership card was free. RIP, Borders.

Canterbury Booksellers also hosted a small café in a corner of the store and a themed B&B above the shop, the rooms decorated with murals illustrating Chaucer's tales. The store sold new titles, both nonfiction and literary fiction (but not much genre fiction). It also hosted regular author readings. When it first opened, you could save your bookstore receipts and eventually cash them in for an overnight stay in the B&B. Sadly, I did not accumulate enough receipts before the original business failed. Avol's moved their used bookstore into the downstairs space, and the charming B&B rooms were converted to apartments. In 2012, Avol's merged with feminist bookstore A Room of One's Own (which could no longer afford its own storefront), bringing new books back under the Canterbury roof.

Frugal Muse used books once had multiple locations. One of them was about a half mile from my house, which made for some delightful (and expensive) walks. Unlike the used bookstores near campus, Frugal Muse carried a lot of genre fiction, nicely organized into sections and alphabetical by author. I was able to find some out-of-print books by favorite authors and try some new-to-me authors. It's also a great place for cookbooks. My local location closed. There is still one way across town, but I usually settle for Half Price Books (which is much closer).

Love and Grief

The Octagon Room, where Augusta and
Joss first have a private conversation.

Last week, I read Theresa Romain's Secrets of a Scandalous Heiress. The author has become an auto-buy for me. She has a very clever way of inverting the usual gender roles in historical romance. This was most obvious in To Charm a Naughty Countess, which featured a rakish heroine and a virgin hero. To a lesser extent, she did something similar in her latest book. I am accustomed to reading about a heroine who lacks confidence in herself and a hero who is emotionally unavailable and hostile to the idea of falling in love. In this book, it is Joss Everett who lacks confidence in both his personal appeal and his career prospects, and Augusta Meredith who wants a temporary, no-strings-attached affair.

I was attracted to the book largely for its Bath location. I am a Jane Austen fan, so I have long been fascinated by the city that she enjoyed as a visitor but came to dislike as a resident. I was lucky enough to visit a couple years ago, so I loved reading scenes that were set in locations that I knew personally.

The canal as seen from Sydney Gardens, where Joss and
Augusta watched a punt passing beneath a footbridge.

What really grabbed me on a visceral level, however, was Augusta's state of mind when she came to Bath. In the recent past, she lost both of her parents. With her inheritance strictly controlled by trustees, the man who had been courting her in secret (who had already seduced her) abandoned her for an heiress with a more accessible fortune. She was struggling to regain the person she used to be while trying to protect her heart from new pain. She decided to find a temporary lover in a city full of transients, hoping that by dictating the terms of the affair, she could regain her sense of control and self-worth while exorcising the memory of her faithless suitor. What she really craves, of course, is human connection and true love, but she is afraid to admit her need, even to herself.

This strongly resonated with me, because I experienced a similar emotional state some decades ago, during my first year after college. I was struggling to find a job so I could afford to move out of my parents' house. The grandmother who helped raise me succumbed to cancer, and a younger cousin who was also a close friend committed suicide. I was rather numb with grief, and I worried that leaning on my parents for emotional support would undermine my quest for independence.

My craving for human contact and distraction led me to a casual association that I would not have accepted otherwise. We didn't use the term friends-with-benefits in those days, but that is essentially how it began. Like Augusta, I fooled myself into believing that was all I needed, and I resisted admitting, even to myself, that I had become emotionally attached.

Although my story arc diverged quite a bit from Augusta's, and I rode an emotional roller coaster for about a year and a half, the ending was not dissimilar. I am still married to my former friend-with-benefits (and he is still my best friend).

The Enduring Allure of Exotic Locations

Though many thousands of generations have passed since stone tools and the wearing of animal skins allowed our ancestors to colonize the Earth's colder regions, where there was less human competition for scarce resources, their pale-skinned, northern-adapted descendants have not stopped craving more tropical climes.

This craving becomes particularly acute in the winter, but it never really leaves us. There may be many practical reasons why we do not actually live in the tropics, but it remains a persistent romantic dream. Destination weddings and honeymoons tend to be in places like Hawaii or the Caribbean rather than Aspen, Colorado. There is something about seeing lush vegetation and low-hanging fruit that brings out our primal urge to mate.

The Mediterranean has long held a fascination for me. As a child, I became interested in Greek mythology via Wonder Woman comic books. In college, I took elective courses in both the history and literature of ancient Greece. I also read a great many Harlequin (contemporary) romances that featured a Greek tycoon hero and lush island location. I combined my love of history with my love of a good romantic novel when I devoured Dorothy Dunnett's epic Lymond Chronicles and House of Niccolo series. Her books made me wish to visit Venice, Cyprus and Malta. I did finally make it to Venice and a couple of Greek islands. Cyprus and Malta are still on my bucket list.

For many mainland Americans, Hawaii is synonymous with paradise. This is partly due to the rise of airline tourism after World War II. The new state was marketed as paradise on Earth. There is an undeniably Eden-like quality to the islands, perhaps because they are relatively young in geological terms. It is easy to imagine oneself shedding the trappings of civilization to live in a little grass shack. Seeing toned and bronzed young men with Polynesian tattoos on the beach is a definite bonus. I remember reading (back in the 1980s) an old-school historical romance set in Hawaii (the author and title both elude me, but the heroine's name or nickname was Jasmine/Pikake) that was obviously influenced by James Michener's Hawaii.

For the time being, I will have to comfort myself with vicarious travel and Hawaiian coffee. Only a couple more months until Spring. If I'm lucky, the snow will melt by then.

Comfort Reads for the Polar Vortex

After a cold and snowy November and a deceptively mild December, winter has reasserted itself here in the upper Midwest. Today's forecast high was -4 degrees F, and I am pathetically grateful that the actual temperature has climbed two degrees above that.

To add insult to injury, my Amazon pre-order of Miranda Neville's The Duke of Dark Desires and Tessa Dare's Say Yes to the Marquess (which shipped on December 30) has still not arrived -- I fear the delivery vehicle is frozen in a ditch somewhere.

Fortunately, I have stockpiled a sufficient supply of romance novels to help keep me warm this winter. I recently read Suzanne Enoch's Rogue with a Brogue. I bought it over the summer but didn't get to it until after Christmas. I am not generally a fan of Scottish romances, but I usually enjoy Enoch's Regency historicals. I stuck with her latest series because the first book, The Devil Wears Kilts, was about a Scottish laird who came to London for the Season. The Scottish elements were balanced with enough London ballroom catnip for me to enjoy it. The Scottish elements are a bigger part of the plot of the second book, which involves a hero and heroine from rival clans fleeing arranged marriages and falling in love on their way to Scotland. To my surprise, I found myself liking this book even more than the previous one.

That may be because road trip romances are also catnip to me. One of my favorite authors, Cecilia Grant, recently released an e-novella, A Christmas Gone Perfectly Wrong, which was free for a while in December as a gift to her readers. It is a tale of chance-met people traveling together on their way to separate family holiday gatherings who find themselves weathering a series of disasters. Imagine a Regency romance version of Planes, Trains and Automobiles. I found it perfectly delightful.

My all-time favorite road trip romance novel is A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare. Its heroine is a shy bluestocking and its hero a charismatic and mischievous rake with hidden insecurities. Yum.

The Kindle app on my smartphone has been getting more of a workout lately. I prefer to read print books, but some excellent romances are occasionally available at deep discounts (or sometimes only) in digital versions. I discovered Courtney Milan last year. I have been trying to ration myself when it comes to buying her books, both because they tend to be expensive and because I have a long list of other authors I wish to try. When The Duchess War was available for free as an ebook last month, I jumped. The first full-length novel in the Brothers Sinister series did not disappoint. I enjoyed it as much as I did the prequel novella, The Governess Affair. I suspect I'll be purchasing the next few books in the series in the not-too-distant future. I really want to read The Countess Conspiracy, but I always try to read a series in order.

I recently started Sweet Disorder by Rose Lerner because the reviews intrigued me, and the e-book is on sale. I love the research she put into Regency-era Parliamentary elections and voting laws. Historical politicking fascinates me. The one aspect of the book that makes it hard for me to suspend my disbelief is the hero's admiration for Byron, not only his poetry but also his impassioned (but completely ineffective) speech in the House of Lords and his courage in going about with a club foot. In real life, Lord Byron swanned around the peninsula during the war with an officer's uniform that he would occasionally wear when it was to his social advantage to do so, despite having never served in the military. He was a vocal armchair general who delighted in snarky criticism of the British army. The hero of Sweet Disorder is a wounded veteran of the Peninsular War who found his army service to be the most satisfying period of his life. It seems odd to me that he would admire Byron. I am enjoying other aspects of the book, though.

Since I try to limit my screen time each day, I have also been reading Emma Holly's The Demon's Daughter in print. I wanted to explore steampunk paranormal romances, and this one came highly recommended. I am about halfway through it, and I am really enjoying it so far. The world-building is very engaging. The book is quite steamy -- it probably qualifies as erotic romance -- without the emphasis on BDSM (at least thus far) that seems so prevalent in the erotic romance genre. All in all, it is a good choice to raise one's temperature on a bitter cold winter day.

'Tis the Season

...for Christmas anthologies. The holidays are a busy time of year, and I have less time to read. For that reason, I really enjoy romance anthologies in December. The short story format allows me to get through the whole emotional arc and reach the happily-ever-after before I forget the backstory and plot set-up.

I am not the only romance reader who feels that way. Publishers always release Christmas-themed romance anthologies, because they sell like Christmas cookies. Regency Historicals are my go-to comfort reads, so those are the type of anthologies I gobble up.

I am currently reading (and enjoying) Christmas in the Duke's Arms, a brand-new anthology with stories by best-selling authors Grace Burrowes, Shana Galen, Carolyn Jewel and Miranda Neville. All three stories take place in the same Nottinghamshire village, home to an inn called The Duke's Arms. They are tied together by having a common setting and some overlapping scenes and secondary characters. In that way, they are reminiscent of the non-Christmas, wedding-themed anthologies that Miranda Neville has done with Katharine Ashe, Caroline Linden and Maya Rodale.

I am beginning to do more reading on my smartphone (although I still prefer paper most of the time). I was delighted to discover today that A Grosvenor Square Christmas is currently free in digital formats. On our first trip to London, my husband and I visited Grosvenor Square, mainly to see the FDR memorial and the mid-20th-century U.S. Embassy building. Other sides of the square are still occupied by the Georgian townhouses that have provided a steady income for the Grosvenor family (the Dukes of Westminster) for more than two centuries. While we were sitting on a park bench enjoying the pleasant surroundings, a gentleman dressed like an Elizabethan town crier came through the square, inviting all and sundry to a free Shakespeare play later that week, courtesy of His Grace, the Duke of Westminster. Alas, our itinerary would not allow us to accept the Duke's kind invitation.

Several years ago, I read Snowy Night with a Stranger, with stories by Jane Feather, Sabrina Jeffries and Julia London. The title says it all -- each story involves strangers who meet due to winter travel disruptions. The stories are not interconnected, but they are delightful. The anthology's theme means that each story contains the meet-cute as well as the falling-in-love part of the romance. There is something especially exciting about a new attraction (and in the pages of a romance novel, we needn't worry that the guy will turn out to be a bad credit risk). While travel is no longer as difficult or hazardous as it was two hundred years ago, most of us can relate to the notion of being stranded over the holidays due to bad weather.

Mary Balogh has written a number of Christmas-themed novels and novellas over the course of her long career. I have enjoyed many of her novels, but of the Christmas-themed stories, I prefer the novellas. They often appear in anthologies with other authors, but I recommend the all-Balogh collection Under the Mistletoe. No one writes about lonely introverts who have difficulty communicating their true feelings like Balogh. This collection includes two stories about married couples who finally learn to communicate and trust.

Happy reading, and Happy Holidays.

Rags to Riches

A thought-provoking post on the Wonkomance blog got me thinking about how my own working-class upbringing has impacted my taste in romance novels.

I am one of those readers who prefers novels that provide an escape from real life rather than a story that mirrors the challenges that I have personally faced. To that end, I usually read historical romances, particularly those that take place in Regency or Victorian England.

I have noticed that most of the heroines are members of the gentry. They may be poor, but it is genteel poverty. The hero may have grown up poor, but by the time the story begins, he has usually amassed significant wealth through his own hard work and ingenuity. If he is a nobleman (or at least a gentleman), he may be facing debts that his forbears amassed and need to marry money for the sake of the family estate. He is almost never a poor man of the lower classes. One exception is Tessa Dare's Spindle Cove novella Beauty and the Blacksmith. I did not enjoy it nearly as much as her other books, perhaps because the HEA seemed less happy to me.

Less rare is the historical romance novel that features a poor, lower-class heroine who manages to win the love of a wealthy gentleman. It is hard to resist a good Cinderella story. I am currently reading The Bridal Season by Connie Brockway, which features an illegitimate music hall performer/con artist impersonating a noblewoman. Naturally, the hero is the local magistrate. I have no doubt that the two will eventually fall in love and live happily ever after. In keeping with the spirit of the Cinderella story, the heroine does have noble blood (she is the natural daughter of a viscount).

Here are some other memorable rags-to-riches historical romances that I have read over the years:

• River Lady by Jude Deveraux - This book is unusual in that the heroine, Leah, grows up in grinding, not genteel, poverty; during their first encounter, the hero has concerns about her personal hygiene. After they are forced to marry, his female relatives do the requisite make-over to turn Leah into an acceptable wife. While the book's values seem shallow at times, it also makes a strong case that Leah's admirable qualities are largely because of rather than in spite of her unfortunate upbringing. She is intelligent despite being illiterate, and she has keen memory skills because she cannot rely upon written notes. The setting on the American frontier makes such extreme social mobility seem more plausible.
• The Shadow and the Star by Laura Kinsale - One of the most outrageous plots that I have ever enjoyed -- poor English shopgirl meets white Hawaiian ninja. Just go with it; you won't regret it. Check out the old Fabio covers and the author's amusing comments on the website (note that she names "shark" as the book's mascot animal, for obvious reasons).
• An Offer from a Gentleman by Julia Quinn - The third book in the Bridgerton series was deliberately patterned after Cinderella. Sophie is the natural daughter and "ward" of a deceased nobleman, but her stepmother treats her like a servant (just like in the fairy tale).
• Any Duchess Will Do by Tessa Dare - This is probably the least plausible plot in the Spindle Cove series, in which a lower-class farmgirl-turned-tavern-wench finds herself betrothed to a duke. The book is well-written and enjoyable, however, even if it required a greater-than-usual suspension of disbelief.

Happy reading. Try to turn in before midnight.

Find Your Beach Read

The term "beach read" has long been used to describe a completely frivolous book with no literary value. The connotation is that it is best enjoyed on the beach while on vacation, when your brain can be turned off.


The term has often been used to describe romance novels and other genres, such as suspense and mystery, that are considered purely for entertainment.


I think we have been misunderstanding the function of beach reads. It is not that they are good for beach reading because they will not force us to think. Rather, they enhance our vacation by allowing us to escape our everyday lives and vicariously experience adventure and romance.


It was those Corona "find your beach" commercials that finally helped me make the connection. Just as Corona is supposed to help you escape the stresses of ordinary life and imagine you are on a sunny beach rather than a downtown watering hole after work, a beach read will transport you to another world and allow you to imagine a more exciting and romantic life for a little while.


I think that is why I enjoy historical romances so much more than contemporary romances. Contemporary romances deal with real-world stresses and emotions and do not allow the same level of escapism for me.


My beach is generally 19th-century England.

Revisiting the Matter of Britain

I have vague memories of pop culture references to King Arthur and Sir Lancelot while I was growing up, but I first learned the basics about the legends in high school, when my English class read Tennyson's Idylls of the King. The teacher also told us about Thomas Malory's Mort d'Arthur, on which it was largely based, and some of the ways in which Tennyson departed from his source material.

I was hooked. In college, I took as many literature electives as a business major could manage to fit in and began reading some of the earlier medieval versions. For recreational reading, I devoured many of the modern retellings (some with a high medieval or fantasy setting, some firmly set in a realistic late-Roman-Britain setting). My favorites were those by authors who leavened the tragedy with humor and had a firm understanding of the medieval source material. I am particularly fond of Thomas Berger's Arthur Rex: A Legendary Novel and Sharan Newman's Guinevere trilogy. No matter how many times I read the story, however, I always knew going in that there would be no happily-ever-after.

I got away from the Matter of Britain for a number of years, largely because the pressures of post-college life led me to want a happy ending in my recreational reading. My interest in Arthurian stories was re-kindled by a trip I took to Glastonbury last summer. I climbed the tor and saw the purported grave of King Arthur (conveniently found by the monks in the 12th century, when they desperately needed pilgrims and donations to help them rebuild the church after a fire). I remembered my love for the legends and their many retellings.

Over the years, a number of authors have written contemporary, fantasy or science fiction books that are based on or inspired by the Matter of Britain. The nice thing about a loosely-Arthurian story with new characters is the possibility for a happy ending. I remember reading Port Eternity by C.J. Cherryh and Excalibur by Sanders Anne Laubenthal when I was still in college. I decided to seek out more Arthurian-inspired books that have the possibility of a happy ending. In a bit of serendipity, I recently found If Ever I Would Leave You, an anthology of romance stories with Arthurian themes. I am currently reading it and enjoying it very much. I think I will make a habit of seeking out new Arthurian-inspired romances.

Staycation, All I Ever Wanted

After a summer of trying to write while working a full time day job, I finally have a week off.  Hopefully, I will make a lot of progress on the novella I am currently working on (I have 33 pages of my first draft written, and I'm aiming for 100). Unfortunately, my PC picked this week to die (thank goodness for cloud backups), so I will have to get used to my laptop's crappy little keyboard. Maybe I can plug our full-size keyboard into the laptop...

I'm also looking forward to putting a dent in my ever-growing to-be-read pile of books.

Jumping on the Courney Milan Bandwagon

When I attended Chicago Spring Fling back in April, one of the totebag giveaways was a small notepad courtesy of Courtney Milan (which I can't seem to find at the moment). The name was vaguely familiar. I believe Amazon had recommend that I read her books. Amazon makes a lot of recommendations, though, and I sadly don't have time to read them all.

It wasn't actually the swag that got me to read something of hers. I read some reviews of the Countess Conspiracy, and it sounded like a book that I would enjoy. However, I prefer to read an author's books in order as much as possible, and she had an extensive back catalog. I found one of her books (Unveiled) at my local Half Price Books and decided to give it a try. I enjoyed it enough to order the next in that series.

I saw that Milan was offering a prequel novella (the Governess Affair) for free in digital format to introduce readers to her Brothers Sinister series (which includes the Countess Conspiracy). I usually prefer print books by far, but it was hard to argue with free, so I downloaded it to my smartphone. It took me a while to get into it (due to brief and interrupted reading sessions and technical difficulties with the Kindle app, which kept losing the downloaded novella for some reason). But once I reached the halfway point, I was really into the story and devoured it over the weekend.

Now, my to-be-read pile of books is getting pretty high (and I have Amazon pre-orders on the way), but all I want to do is read everything by Courtney Milan's.  I am forcing myself to ration her books out, however, rather than binge on them.

So Many Books; So Little Time

Working full-time while also beginning a writing career leaves far less time for recreational reading. Between revisions on my first novel, working on the first draft of my second novel, and "building my platform" online (which is something I have always enjoyed -- posting and commenting on blogs), my summer reading pile keeps growing, and I do not have any vacation time scheduled until September.

Some of my autobuy authors have new books releases in June or July, and reading other industry blogs has encouraged me to try some new (to me) authors as well. I have also decided to re-read The Windflower this summer, now that it is back in print (my first edition is somewhere in a box in the basement, and I'm afraid to discover its condition).

While I dislike reading on a screen, I do intend to read a few Kindle books this summer as well. I downloaded Courtney Milan's free e-novella The Governess Affair, and once I finish that, I plan to purchase If Ever I Would Leave You, the new Arthurian anthology from Abigail Barnette, Bronwyn Green and Jessica Jarman (I met some of the authors at Chicago Spring Fling, I love Arthurian romances, and it's not available in print, so Kindle it is).

My paperback pile of books to-be-read includes some by new-to-me authors Isabella Bradford, Connie Brockway, Emma Holly, Madeline Hunter, Gina Maxwell, Molly O'Keefe, Lindsey Piper and Lisa Valdez, as well as Lauren Dane's urban fantasy Blade to the Keep. I just finished Vixen in Velvet by Loretta Chase and have started Lady Windermere's Lover by Miranda Neville. Other autobuy books in the pile (already delivered or shipped) include The Escape by Mary Balogh, With This Ring by Celeste Bradley and How to School Your Scoundrel by Juliana Gray. I'm looking forward to new releases later this month from Katharine Ashe, Suzanne Enoch and Sabrina Jeffries. I also want to purchase and read books by Beverly Jenkins and Rainbow Rowell in the near future (and I will be buying more by Courtney Milan).

A new round of autobuys are released in August.  I will never catch up.