Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Thursday Thirteen - 60 - 13 Reasons to Read Fox's Bride by Amy Ruttan


In the blogosphere, kindred spirits have a way of finding each other. I met Amy Ruttan as a fellow commenter at Christine d'Abo's blog. We quickly discovered that we share so many quirky tastes in things. Like Gerard Butler. *shiver* (Is that quirky, or just fabulous taste?) We both love Red Dwarf - ever heard of that show? Persuasion with Ciaran Hinds. The Vicar of Dibley. Gwen Stefani. And of course, The Pirates of Penzance.

I'd have to do an entire Thursday Thirteen about the things we've discovered about one another that makes us secret twins.

I got the chance to have lunch with Amy, Wylie Kinson and Leah Braemel before the Toronto Romance Writers meeting last October. After getting to know one another through blogging, it's like meeting a supahstah. So exciting, so wonderful. I was beside myself with waiting until Fox's Bride was released.

1 - Amy is one of the Sexies at Six Degrees of Sexy, along with my fellow Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada writer Renee Field, and fellow blog buddies Christine d'Abo, Wylie Kinson, Red Garnier, and Robin Rotham.

2 - And how exceedingly diverting is Fox's Bride? Read on, me hearties.

Amy's ebook is part of Cerridwen Press's Historical Romance Novel category. The heroine is the much-sought-after mistress of a sugar cane plantation in late 1720's Jamaica. Fortunately, as a girl she was married off to the equally young hero. This gives her protection from avaricious cads who scheme for her and her plantation. Unfortunately, the convenient yet absent husband grew into an utter wastrel.

3 - We meet Madeline Middleton, Lady Foxton, managing her own Jamaican plantation while sending a sizeable stipend to England, to keep her husband's rakish pursuits in full swing. Madeline needs income to purchase slaves away from her neighbors. She makes up for her husband's outrageous allowance by piracy - as the Dread Captain Meg.

4 - William Foxton married the red-headed girl just as his grandmother commanded. He knew their aristocratic family needed income from the Caribbean colonies in order to survive. He understood the worth of his marriage more and more as the years went on, as he discovered his father's betrayal of their family, as he sought to outrun his misery by living life as a scoundrel. What he'd never read for himself was the marriage contract. It sends him on the first ship to Jamaica, to legally claim his bride before it's too late.

5 - Amy's world is so full of characters and action - a wonderful change from the all-romantic-couple-all-the-time structure of most print releases. Cerridwen Press's ebook format gives authors room to explore settings and time frames other publishers wouldn't consider, no matter how hungry readers may be for originality. I threw myself into 1720's Jamaica with abandon.

6 - I especially appreciated the darker undertones to Amy's book. She never shies away from the reality of life for women of all social standings, and plainly spells out the miseries of life as a slave. In a print romance, she would have been asked to tone down or remove all of the social commentary that drives the book through its quick pacing.

7 - I really, really love the bantering that takes place between Madeline and Fox. Her years as a pirate, commanding a crew of men, serves her well when she encounters Lord Foxton, accustomed to deference and the witty company of White's in London.

When they meet up after so many years as mere names on documents, their conversation quickly turns to:

'My lord, I am not your dear anything!'

'Au contraire, you are my dear wife, are you not?' he asked smartly, looking thoroughly pleased parleying words with her.

'A dear wife who you haven’t seen in twenty years, my lord. The last time I saw you, you were a martyr to spotty skin,' she said hotly.


8 - The sexual desire between Madeline and Fox is a knock-down surprise to both of them. It begins from the moment she raids the ship her husband sails to Jamaica, their gazes locking even as she conceals her identity with a mask. When he discovers his wife is a pirate, it only fuels Fox's desire for a woman unlike any he could imagine - and he knew plenty of wild characters as he debauched his way through London. Madeline is likewise confused by her raw attraction to the man whose spending habits forced her to piracy in the first place. But she never recovered from his refusal to back down when she pointed her weapon at him aboard ship.

9 - The cast of characters includes many gray characters - people who display some understandable traits at some points of the novel, then display reprehensible traits at others. Gray characters are my favorite. They tug at my heart and shoot the tension level higher and higher.

10 - Amy really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:

" 'Well, well, a lord of the realm here on this ship.' She bowed with a flourish and several of her crew, including John, laughed. 'Maybe I should ransom you to your relatives.'

Fox scoffed. 'You could but they’ll never pay. I’m an outcast, my dear.'

She cocked her eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by his response.

'Tsk, tsk. What about your poor wife? I’m sure she would be lost without you.'

'You can try her, she is quite wealthy. Although, you may find her hesitant, she’s never met me.'

'Ha, I find that hard to believe.' Captain Meg unsheathed her rapier and pointed it at his heart. 'Her name, my lord, or I will run you through.'

Fox smirked, thoroughly enjoying his repartee with this enchanting vixen.

'Happy to oblige, my dear. My wife is Lady Madeline Foxton of The Coral Reef plantation in Montego Bay.'

Captain Meg’s eyes flew open in horror and she quickly turned away. Fox was confused by her response.

'Sorry, did I say something to offend?'

She turned around abruptly, the blunt end of her pistol raised.
Why is she angry? was his last thought before everything went black."

11 - Amy's scenes are vividly cinematic. I can feel the rhythm of a film editor as she drops us in and out of scenes for as long as she needs us there - and no longer.

Madeline woke with a start to the sound of scratching at her window. She rubbed her eyes, dazed and confused. The moonlight streamed through the white gauze of her curtains so she didn’t need to light a candle.

She got up and padded over to the window, a pistol, which she kept at her bedside, in her hand, cocked and ready to fire.

Madeline pulled back the drape and balked at the sight of Fox, bedraggled and leaning with his both arms outstretched on either side of her balcony window.

His eyes were sparkling as he stared into her bedroom, his shirt open and flapping in a strong breeze. His hair was loose and blowing about his shoulders. He looked wild, like a stormed-tossed sea. It gave her a delicious thrill that traveled down her spine, warming her blood.
No, I won’t let him in tonight.

'What do you want?' she asked through the glass doors.

'Let me in,' Fox said, his voice slurring slightly.

She opened the balcony door a crack. She smelled a very strong odor of rum. 'Are you drunk?' she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

'Possibly,' Fox garbled his words. 'No, I’m not drunk, I’m foxed.' He laughed.

She saw that he had climbed up the side of the house to get to the balcony. 'Either way, you’re not coming in here tonight,' Madeline countered. She tried to shut the door, but Fox prevented her.

'I’m coming in to be with my wife, whether you like it or not.'

She held the pistol up. 'I said no,' she warned dangerously.

His eyes glinted in the moonlight. 'You wouldn’t shoot me. You need me.'

'For what?' Madeline asked haughtily. Though she knew, yes she did need him to conceive a child.
Tell him the other reason, the reason even you won’t admit yourself, a little voice niggled in the back of her mind.

He swayed to the left and she tried to catch him but it was all a ruse as the pistol was easily tussled from her grip. Fox took the pistol and disarmed it.

'Now, shall we try that again?' he asked huskily.

'Oh go away, Fox, I am in no mood to play your personal whore tonight.' She turned away but he grabbed her roughly and brought her around to face him.

'I do not think of you as a whore.'

'So, women just fall at your feet?' she snapped.

'Yes,' he said as he leaned his mouth down to the pulse point of her neck. 'Especially when I do things like this.'


12 - I'm positive a sequel or two could expand Amy's Coral Reef world. There are so many characters I'd like to follow, like Madeline's butler and pirate hand, John. Or Cristal, the rescued slave from New Orleans.

13 - I leave you with a final excerpt. Enjoy!

"Madeline was angry at her cousin for not showing any interest in The Coral Reef, but when it was an inheritance to be paid to him, he had no problem showing up.

She remembered her cousin Jeremy. He was six years her junior, and she remembered when he became a teenager, a very forceful teenager, and he was randy—that was all there was to it. He tried to accost her in her bedroom. Luckily, Madeline was much stronger than the young fop. She easily threw him off and gave him a thrashing he wasn’t soon to forget. That was the last time she had seen her blood relatives.

As she came down the winding staircase the first thing she noticed was all the luggage.
He thinks he’s here to stay.

John motioned to her that Jeremy was in the sitting room. She balled up her fists and proceeded into the room to greet her long-detested cousin.

When Madeline saw Jeremy she had to choke back the laughter that began to bubble in her throat. She had thought she had seen a fop before, but it was nothing compared to the man of twenty years sitting on her settee, fanning himself.

Jeremy was garishly dressed in a huge powdered wig that had a small purple hat pinned to the top. His face was powdered and his eyebrows shaven, the mouse skin eyebrows that he wore were slowly slipping down his face as was the velvet mole from the humid tropic temperatures. Jeremy had obviously put on rouge and painted his lips red. His jacket, waistcoat and breeches were contrasting jewel tones, his shirt was very ruffled. His stockings were striped and his blue buckled shoes had very high heels.

The chokes of laughter were welling up inside her. Madeline looked back at John. His face was very serious but his eyes told a different story. He was trying to suppress his laughter.

'Jeremy…what brings you to The Coral Reef?' Madeline asked.

'Why, my dear cousin, is it so wrong of me to want to visit my only paternal relative?' He got up and with outstretched arms, embraced her.

Madeline remained stiff as her cousin hugged her. She held her breath to suppress Jeremy’s heavily perfumed body. He obviously was trying to mask his sweat with some sort of sweet scent, but he had put so much on his body that it was stifling and overpowering.

Jeremy’s hand began to wander down her back to her rear. Madeline pushed him away violently as she saw John approaching out of the corner of the room.

Jeremy wrinkled his nose in a sneer.

'Still a little randy are we not, Jeremy?' she barked.

'Still a prude eh, cousin?' Jeremy snapped as he sat down on the settee.

'What do you want, Jeremy?' she asked firmly.

'Well, if you must know, cousin, then there is no need to hide my reason for coming to Jamaica. Your marriage has not yet been consummated, and it doesn’t look as if it will be, as the last ship for the season left six months ago.'

'Your point?'

'My point is that part of the stipulation of the marriage contract was that you produce an heir with your husband by the time you were twenty-eight or The Coral Reef would fall forfeit…to me,' he said that last bit with such zeal it made her sick.

'I see,' Madeline said tightly.

'I’m not totally heartless, cousin,' Jeremy said. 'I say that we annul your marriage to Lord Foxton.'

'Why would I do that?' she asked uneasily.

Jeremy got off the settee and wandered over to her to whisper in her ear. 'So that we can get married. I find you a desirable woman, Madeline. I think we could rub along nicely together.'

A shiver went down Madeline’s back as she tried not lose her dinner.

'You see the crux of it is, Jeremy, I can’t annul my marriage.'

'Why ever not?' Jeremy demanded.

'Because, quite simply, her husband has consummated the marriage,' a lazy voice drawled from the doorway.

Madeline looked back to see Fox leaning against the doorjamb. His hair tied back but his shirt was unbuttoned, as if to show Jeremy that he and Madeline were just intimate.

She looked at her cousin, who looked outraged at seeing Fox. His face was actually turning red despite the fact he wore face powder. He was so tense that one of the mouse skin eyebrows slid off his face to the floor. She heard John laugh as he walked out of the room, suppressing his laughter into his liveried sleeve.

Fox walked over to Jeremy. Very nonchalant he bent over and picked the mouse skin eyebrow off the floor and held it out to Jeremy. 'I believe you lost this.'

Jeremy snatched it back and turned around to replace the fake eyebrow on his face. Madeline stifled a laugh in her hands.

Jeremy rounded on Fox. 'What are you doing in Jamaica?'

'That would seem obvious,' Fox said sardonically. 'I am consummating my marriage.'

'I thought you were still in London?' Jeremy said disdainfully.

'No, I caught the last ship to the West Indies,' Fox replied.

'Well, what am I going to do now? There’s no ship back to England for a year.'

'You’re more than welcome to stay here with us,' Fox offered.

Madeline gasped in dismay. She didn’t want her cousin to remain at The Coral Reef. He would just harass her. She did not want any of her female workers brutalized by Jeremy Middleton.

'That’s very kind of you, Lord Foxton,' Jeremy acquiesced. His face turned beet red again.

'You can go elsewhere. But I don’t know where, and with the Maroon attacks, I wouldn’t advise trying to travel tonight.'

'I agree, you are most gracious, Lord Foxton,' Jeremy said, defeated.

'John,' Madeline called. John had returned. He had obviously regained his composure. 'Would you show Jeremy to one of the guest quarters?'

'Aye, my lady,' John said, picking up some of the luggage. Jeremy flicked his fan, and with one last disdainful look at Fox and Madeline, followed John out of the sitting room and up the stairs.
"

- Amy Ruttan, 2008


This brings my second series of Thursday Thirteen book reviews to a close. Next week let's enjoy a little eye candy, shall we...?

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Thursday Thirteen - 59 - 13 Reasons to Read Resisting Command by Jennifer Leeland


I took one look at this cover and knew I had to read this new release by Jennifer Leeland.

I can't resist a man on his knees.

It's one of the big reasons I love historicals, paranormal and fantasy. And ballet, too - the men are often kneeling. Gorgeously.

Not too much call for kneeling in the contemporary world. But in societies of yore, there was lots of it. And if you didn't show the proper deference, you could pay for it. Dearly. I get all shivery when a hulking warrior bows and kneels to a superior. So of course Jennifer's cover was a siren call I could not resist.

1 - Before we get to Resisting Command, let's set the tone for the world where Jennifer is about to take us. Her cover boldly states BDSM. For those who may be unfamiliar with that, it stands for Bondage and Discipline, Domination and Submission, Sadism and Masochism.

You may have heard me mention lately how much I love the BBC series Robin Hood. There's a delicious undercurrent of BDSM throughout the series. It takes place at the close of the 12th century, which guarantees master-servant themes, captives in bondage, power struggles between male rivals and between romantic partners. For me, what's not to love? It's all my favorite fictional scenarios.

If you'd like to dip your feet in these waters, have a look at the Domination and Submission relationship between the Sheriff of Nottingham and his lieutenant, Sir Guy of Gisborne.



The Sheriff is clearly sadistic, and Sir Guy shows a masochistic tendency as he remains loyal to the sheriff, subjecting himself to the treatment he knows will continue as long as he's in the sheriff's service.

Sir Guy is involved in another intense relationship with these overtones, this time with Lady Marian. They trade Domination and Submission aspects that seesaw between the two of them, each handing the power position back and forth.




2 - Now, let's make the jump from 12th century England to a 23rd century world, seething with chemical compounds that push humans' sexual natures into overdrive.

Like Robin Hood, the culture and technology of Jennifer's planetary colony lends itself to BDSM elements as a natural extension of its time and place. That's what I want in a BDSM story. It has to flow directly from the dynamics of the setting, as well as from the natures of the main characters. Historicals, fantasy and science fiction offer worlds where the symbolic power struggles and surrender of BDSM are played out not as a game, but as reality for the characters involved.

3 - Jennifer's novel is part of Liquid Silver's Science Fiction category. We meet the heroine, a scientist suddenly at the mercy of her own libido. The Synthetic Endorphin Xstacy found on the colony planet reduces even brilliant minds like hers to a seething mass of sexual fantasies. The hero is a Space Elite Tribunal soldier assigned to track down a Rogue agent - and the focus of her dark fantasies.

4 - Jenia Carstairs' domineering parents drilled their aspirations into their daughter to follow in their scientific footsteps. Her current job focuses on identifying the sex-hormone-inflaming substance on Asberek, a planet that Earth is keen to colonize. If she could keep her mind off her fantasies about Space Elite agent Paul Lestrano, that is.

5 - Paul Lestrano spent his childhood with fists flying, duking it out with anyone who gave him grief over his father, who died leading colonists to a new planet. Harnessing his violence into army service, Paul is now a soldier for the Tribunal, dealer of pain, keeper of secrets. Dr. Carstairs is part of his latest mission - and a hot button in her psych evaluation is Paul himself, object of her sexual craving in her Virtual Fantasy Room sessions.

6 - Jenia and Paul follow widely different career paths. She works tirelessly to uncover the secrets which the universe encrypts. He doggedly ensures that political secrets remain hidden - no matter what that requires of him. Yet Jenia and Paul both keep their personas under rigid control. Paul's decision to infiltrate her Virtual Fantasy Room session, hoping to gain access to Dr. Carstair's unguarded self, serves to introduce Paul to a secret of his own - his buried desire to submit.

7 - A strong suspense element runs through the novel, as Jenia and Paul work with a team of agents and scientists to unravel the cause of a mass killing spree among earlier colonists. Paul has his sights set on the Rogue agent, yet there may be more to it than one homicidal killing machine and his alien sympathizers.

8 - Jennifer has already set one story in this world, Taking Command. I love losing myself in a fictional world big enough to hold as many stories as the writer can explore. She has a third one in the works, Regaining Command.

9 - I really, really love Jennifer's relationship dynamic between Jenia and Paul in their sexual encounters, as well as their regular-life scenes. These characters have double-sided natures, yet both versions of Jenia complement each other, as do Paul's. His desire to be pushed past his implacable Space Elite exterior reaches through the page to touch the reader. Yet his Tribunal soldier skills snap into action as they travel deep into the Asberek jungle interior.

10 - Jennifer really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:

" Once she got to her quarters, however, she wasn’t tired. Restless, she accessed some of the computer security. One of the advantages of having seniority on Asberek was being able to find anyone, any time.

For some reason, she wanted to know what Paul was doing. But she wasn’t obsessed.

Of course not.

The screen clicked through several corridors and found him in front of a Virtual Fantasy Room console. Well, well, well. And he hadn’t been careful either. She tsked and shook her head as she noted the Tribunal hadn’t put on his security codes for his VFR use.

She had easy access to his input.

Her eyes widened as she discovered what the man wanted to do. He wanted to do her. Specifically. Just as she requested him, he had demanded a holographic version of her. A smirk lifted her lips.


Well, we’ll see if two can play your game.

She clicked and tweaked his fantasy and headed for a VFR access door. This was going to be fun."

11 - This is a very steamy novel, dealing with BDSM subject matter. Sweet romance seekers need not apply!

12 - Jennifer also writes and blogs under the name Jennifer McKenzie. Visit her at The Redneck Romance Writer, where she often goes on hilarious rants known as Just Sayin'.

13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!

" 'I’ll have to monitor her VFR use and I’ll keep you updated.' Paul manipulated a few buttons on his hand-held computer which gave him unlimited access to Asberek’s VFR system.

'Have you felt the effects of S.E.X. yet?' His boss’s tone was amused.

'I’ve been staying on the Zenith. I’ll be transferring to the planet tomorrow.'

'I hope you’re prepared.'

'I hope so, too.' Paul rang off. He wondered how he was going to handle the chemical from the planet. More than likely, he’d be like Dr. Carstairs. He didn’t seem to be affected by the space tension as others were, and women were primarily for information.


***

Repeat previous program, Dr. Carstairs?

The cursor blinked. Yes or no?

She cursed under her breath as she pressed 'yes' and the doors whooshed open. But as she entered the dark, opulent room, her nerves calmed and her muscles relaxed.

It was imperative that everything be in place. She checked the different toys on the rich cherry wood table. The rest of the room was dimly lit by candles. No bed, only a bench and soft carpet. She nodded. Everything was in place. Everything except the man she intended to control.

Her sexual energy grew as she waited. She liked having this short time before he appeared. The energy swirled around her and she gathered it to her like the wind gathered leaves. Her eyes were closed and she allowed her senses to sharpen. The smell of leather, a musk scent from the candles, and the tang of her sweat combined with the force she gathered.

Yes, she needed this. A sound made her open her eyes. In front of her, Paul Lestrano knelt before her in perfect submission.

* * *

It was risky. The alarm had gone off to notify Paul that Dr. Carstairs had accessed the VFR. He’d timed his entrance and now knelt before her as he knew she expected.

A feeling he didn’t want or need grew in his chest. This was what would fill his emptiness. To kneel. To give. To serve.

His gaze remained riveted on her black leather boots. She was in control here. The atmosphere in the room was electric, heavy. His heart thudded in his body. How was that possible? He, who knew no fear, could not control his fear and excitement in this moment.

He peeked from beneath his lashes and noted the tools she used and the dim lighting. The carpet beneath his knees caressed his skin. Even the clothing she’d chosen for him to wear seemed destined to push him to the edge and over it.

Finally, she crossed the room, the heels of her boots making no sound. He did not dare glance up. This was her fantasy and he could only be the submissive she expected or he’d never get the answers he needed.

But when she bent down and her hand gripped his chin to force him to meet her gaze, he forgot which answers he sought.

In real life, Jenia Carstairs had long, golden brown hair with unruly curls that she ruthlessly clipped back from her face. Her eyes were violet blue and usually cold and assessing.

In the VFR, Jenia Carstairs let that glorious hair free and her eyes were so hot they turned black. The tight leather corset and thigh high boots made his mouth water.

He closed his eyes as her scent wrapped around him, seduced him. When he opened them again, she stared at him with a curious expression on her face. 'Tonight, I will make you beg for me.'

Excitement and fear zinged through his blood. Her pert nose and high cheekbones were set in a determined face. She meant it. He was going to have to beg. His mind clouded. He needed to focus on the job.

Then, she stood up and bent over to whisper in his ear which gave him a clear view of her beautiful breasts. Her voice was deep and low as it rumbled through his body. 'You will writhe with need.'

He clenched his jaw. This was going to be difficult.

She went to the table and found a strange contraption he’d never seen before. It resembled handcuffs, but it had long chains and four locks. She gripped one of his wrists and jerked it behind his back. She brought his other wrist behind him and clicked them together with the cuffs. Then, she ran the chain down his spine and clicked his ankles together. The effect was complete helplessness.

His hands were immobilized and so were his feet. All he could do was stay on his knees and watch.

As she stepped in front of him, he glared at her. 'How will I writhe with need if I’m bound like this?'

Her eyes flared and she grabbed a handful of his hair to hold his gaze. 'You will be helpless, unable to do what I know you do best.' There was a tinge of bitterness in her tone.

'Let me show you what I can do,' he rumbled deep in his throat. God, he wanted to please her.

She slapped him with her other hand. The sting didn’t diminish his need one bit.

'You’ll do what I want you to do.' She released her grip on his hair and caressed his cheek.

'Why?' It slipped out before he could stop it.

She stared at him, her violet eyes shone in the candlelight. 'Full of questions tonight, aren’t we?' For a moment, he thought she knew he was no hologram. Then she smiled. 'But that’s nothing new.'

She untied her corset and it dropped to the floor. He swallowed as his throat was suddenly very dry. If desire was beautiful then she was its goddess."


- Jennifer Leeland, 2008


Join me next week when I review Amy Ruttan's Fox's Bride.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Thursday Thirteen - 58 - 13 Reasons to Read Law of Averages by Wylie Kinson



Law of Averages is Wylie Kinson's second Ellora's Cave release, and I was squealing like a fan girl when I got a chance to read it. With a British rock star as the hero, I knew I'd fall in love with him even before I read the first sentence. I have a soft spot for sexy musicians. My high school boyfriend was a bass player, so you see where I'm coming from...

1 - I discovered Wylie Kinson as a fellow blogger. She's one of the Sexies at Six Degrees of Sexy, along with my fellow Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada writer Renee Field, and fellow blog buddies Christine d'Abo, Red Garnier, Amy Ruttan and Robin Rotham.

2 - Even before I realized the crowd she hung with, I'd noticed her witty zinger comments at creative goddess Rhian's blog, From My Brain To Yours. When Wylie wandered over to my blog, I was thrilled to make such a wonderful connection. I was even more thrilled when I got a chance to meet Wylie face to face at the October 2007 meeting of the Toronto Romance Writers. What a joy to meet a blog buddy at long last.

3 - So how fabulous is Law of Averages? Read on, darlings.

Part of the Ellora's Cave Contemporary Short Novel category, the heroine is the manager of a world-famous restaurant who personally can't cook. The hero is a tattooed, eyeliner-wearing musician who shows up unannounced at the Bermuda retreat she's been sent to for some serious R & R.

4 - We meet Megan Frost, who worked ninety-three days without a break when the restaurant's executive manager had a double bypass operation. Her boss flew in from London to thank her personally, sending her off to her private home in Bermuda to recharge. Maybe even find herself a vacation fling.

5 - The Dark Angel of Rock steps off the plane and heads for the private home of his London financial advisor and school mate from Eton. He needs to take a breather before coming up with more material for another recording session, and his well is uncharacteristically dry. But his friend hadn't actually checked with his wife as to house occupancy. Gabriel Law - aka Dark Angel - discovers his hideaway comes complete with its own woman.

6 - Normally Gabriel would have turned in the doorway and fled. Normally he would have had to. He would have been chased by a rabid fan or instantaneously propositioned. But Megan clearly doesn't recognize him. And Gabriel can't resist the sweet allure of the chance to park the rock god and be himself for a change.

7 - I really, really love the way Wylie ties all of her scorchy scenes to Megan's and Gabriel's emotional states. Megan is so genuine, there's not one of her emotions that I couldn't relate to. Her encouragement of Gabriel when she thinks he's basically a working musician on the club circuit is so healing to a tired mega celebrity. And his desire for Megan is tied in every way with how she makes him feel, how she helps him to reconnect to why he became the Dark Angel in the first place.

8 - The sexual desire between Megan and Gabriel is as lush and exotic as their Bermuda retreat. It's not a competitive tension, but a letting-their-hair-down exploration by two hard-driven professionals. For Megan - Average Megan - this vacation fling with a gorgeous British musician with an even more gorgeous voice wasn't even on her radar. More touching for me is the acceptance Gabriel feels in her presence. His celebrity persona had overshadowed his own personality for so long, he hadn't realized it was missing in action - until Megan brings him out of hiding.

9 - Wylie's wit is sprinkled everywhere throughout this book. As in:

His chest was bare but for that line that gathered around his bellybutton and headed down the center before disappearing…

Don’t go there, Megan. Bloody hell! Read the book. Read the book! I’m reading my book. Dum de de dum de dum, just reading my book. Where the bloody hell was I?

Shit. Now her inner voice was speaking with an English accent.

10 - Wylie really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:

" 'I thought I heard you giggling. Were you reading?'

'No,' she said, wiping the water that had spewed out of her mouth in surprise.
He heard me? Had he heard her whispering his name over and over like a stuttering parrot? Had he heard her murmur 'Megan Frost Law'? She watched him put the glass to his lips and decided to confess to the lesser of two evils. 'I was…oh God, if you really must know, I was imagining all the naughty, dirty, illegal-in-thirty-two-states things I wanted to do to your body.'

It was Gabriel’s turn to spew.

'Hell,' he croaked between coughs. 'I’m too old for this kind of teasing.' He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up onto the breakfast bar so they were eye to eye. Gabriel spread her knees and stepped between her thighs, leaning in close so their foreheads touched. 'You should have called for me. I would have happily added my suggestions to your list.'

'I gave you plenty of signals last night, Gabriel, but you didn’t touch me.'

'I was fighting with my conscience.'

'Oh? Who won?'

'You did.'
"

11 - Wylie ties a Bermuda sea myth into the romance between Megan and Gabriel beautifully. It doesn't spin this contemporary into a sudden paranormal, but it laces the mystery and charm of the edge-of-the-Caribbean island throughout the book like an ocean breeze.

12 - Wylie captures perfectly the Cinderella moments that women dream about when Megan allows herself to be wooed by Gabriel. He takes her sailing on a private yacht which he explains away as a gift from the Bermuda homeowner. At first she wonders if she should pay for half of the cruise, seeing as he's only a club musician and all...

Most wonderful is the gorgeous bathing suit, gossamer cover and wide-brimmed hat he gives her to wear on the boat.

Megan’s heart started beating out a little calypso tune of its own as she walked toward him. The island, the outfit, the man, all brought out a confidence she’d never had. She felt as if she were dripping diamonds when she walked.

13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!

" 'Where have you been?' He actually looked worried, standing on the top step in the dark as she approached.

'You’re
Gabriel Law!' she accused with pointed finger. She pushed past him and stormed into the cottage. She rounded on him. 'Why didn’t you tell me?'

'Well,' he began, walking toward her slowly and gently as if she were an atomic bomb, 'I believe my opening line was indeed, "Hello, I’m Gabriel Law." ' He took the wine bag out of her hand and placed it on the counter.

'Yes, technically,' she took a deep breath, 'but you should have said, "Hello, I’m Gabriel Law, better known as
Dark Angel"!'

He winced. 'Ah, sorry. I assumed you knew. Most people do.'

'Oh they do not! How many people know Bono’s name — '

'Paul Hewson.'

'Or Sting — '

'Gordon Sumner.'

'Damn you, Gabriel! Just stop it. You
knew I didn’t know.' She wagged her finger at him. 'You purposely deceived me.'

She dropped her bags on the floor and put her hands on her hips. She felt so stupid! Stupid, stupid MEE-gan — brainless, naïve and completely gullible. He must be having the laugh of his life.

She took another deep breath and bit down hard, determined to stifle the tears that were making her throat tight. He reached out to rub the tops of her arms but she jumped back.

'Was this a game to you? Am I some joke that you and
Grinder will have a good chuckle over? Really, Gabriel, I’m so disgusted I could spit!'

Her chest was so tight it was hard to speak. Or breathe. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer so she ran to the bedroom and slammed the door. She barely made it before the sobs came. She held the pillow to her face so he wouldn’t hear her.

Bad choice. The pillow smelled like him.

When she’d typed his name into Google, she was shocked to see the header bar say 'Results 1–10 of 25,300,000 for Gabriel Law'.

That was the moment the dizziness began. Words swam in front of her eyes —
Official Dark Angel Fan Club, Rough Cut Concert Listings, Gabriel Law, the Dark Angel of Rock…

Of course, his tattoo! The angel wing — and she’d been too thick to get it. She’d seen it on T-shirts and album covers, billboards! It was their trademark, like the Rolling Stones lips.

'Megan, can I come in?' Gabriel called through the door, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She quickly sat up on the edge of the bed and tried to swallow but the lump was still lodged at the base of her throat, making her sound like a frog.

'No.'

'Bloody hell,' she heard him murmur behind the door. He came in anyway.


Damn Ash and Gemma for not having locks on their doors.

'Look at me.'

'No.'

'You’re crying.'

'No, I’m not.'
Duh! He was standing in the room. He could see the damn tears. 'Well, yes, but not because of you.'

'Why then?' She lifted her legs and swiveled her ankles, showing off the attractive pink rash. 'Poison ivy. The pharmacist said I have poison ivy, probably from hiding in the bushes at the park, and it’s itchy and I’m miserable.' She put the pillow to her face and let out another sob.

Damn plants. Damn Gabriel.

He got on his knees in front of her and took the mashed, wet pillow out of her hands.

He lifted her chin with his finger so they were eye to eye. She was surprised to find her pain reflected in his tourmaline eyes. She sniffed.

'Please let me explain, Megan.' He slid his hands up her thighs, but it wasn’t an erotic gesture — more like one of a man clinging to the side of a lifeboat. 'I was ecstatic that you didn’t realize who I was. A little shocked, sure, I mean, I do have an ego — quite a huge one, in fact. But if you had recognized me, I would have had to leave.'

'Why?' she sniffed.

He let a few moments pass before answering, his eyes on his hands sliding up and down the outsides of her thighs. He took a deep breath and looked at her. 'Megan, I’m tired of all this. I’ve been touring and partying and trying to maintain an image for twenty years. I’m burnt out and I desperately need a change. I don’t want to be Dark Angel anymore. Do you know how long it’s been since anyone has called me Gabriel? Just plain old Gabriel?'
"

- Wylie Kinson, 2008

Thursday Thirteen - 58 - 13 Reasons to Read Law of Averages by Wylie Kinson



Law of Averages is Wylie Kinson's second Ellora's Cave release, and I was squealing like a fan girl when I got a chance to read it. With a British rock star as the hero, I knew I'd fall in love with him even before I read the first sentence. I have a soft spot for sexy musicians. My high school boyfriend was a bass player, so you see where I'm coming from...

1 - I discovered Wylie Kinson as a fellow blogger. She's one of the Sexies at Six Degrees of Sexy, along with my fellow Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada writer Renee Field, and fellow blog buddies Christine d'Abo, Red Garnier, Amy Ruttan and Robin Rotham.

2 - Even before I realized the crowd she hung with, I'd noticed her witty zinger comments at creative goddess Rhian's blog, From My Brain To Yours. When Wylie wandered over to my blog, I was thrilled to make such a wonderful connection. I was even more thrilled when I got a chance to meet Wylie face to face at the October 2007 meeting of the Toronto Romance Writers. What a joy to meet a blog buddy at long last.

3 - So how fabulous is Law of Averages? Read on, darlings.

Part of the Ellora's Cave Contemporary Short Novel category, the heroine is the manager of a world-famous restaurant who personally can't cook. The hero is a tattooed, eyeliner-wearing musician who shows up unannounced at the Bermuda retreat she's been sent to for some serious R & R.

4 - We meet Megan Frost, who worked ninety-three days without a break when the restaurant's executive manager had a double bypass operation. Her boss flew in from London to thank her personally, sending her off to her private home in Bermuda to recharge. Maybe even find herself a vacation fling.

5 - The Dark Angel of Rock steps off the plane and heads for the private home of his London financial advisor and school mate from Eton. He needs to take a breather before coming up with more material for another recording session, and his well is uncharacteristically dry. But his friend hadn't actually checked with his wife as to house occupancy. Gabriel Law - aka Dark Angel - discovers his hideaway comes complete with its own woman.

6 - Normally Gabriel would have turned in the doorway and fled. Normally he would have had to. He would have been chased by a rabid fan or instantaneously propositioned. But Megan clearly doesn't recognize him. And Gabriel can't resist the sweet allure of the chance to park the rock god and be himself for a change.

7 - I really, really love the way Wylie ties all of her scorchy scenes to Megan's and Gabriel's emotional states. Megan is so genuine, there's not one of her emotions that I couldn't relate to. Her encouragement of Gabriel when she thinks he's basically a working musician on the club circuit is so healing to a tired mega celebrity. And his desire for Megan is tied in every way with how she makes him feel, how she helps him to reconnect to why he became the Dark Angel in the first place.

8 - The sexual desire between Megan and Gabriel is as lush and exotic as their Bermuda retreat. It's not a competitive tension, but a letting-their-hair-down exploration by two hard-driven professionals. For Megan - Average Megan - this vacation fling with a gorgeous British musician with an even more gorgeous voice wasn't even on her radar. More touching for me is the acceptance Gabriel feels in her presence. His celebrity persona had overshadowed his own personality for so long, he hadn't realized it was missing in action - until Megan brings him out of hiding.

9 - Wylie's wit is sprinkled everywhere throughout this book. As in:

His chest was bare but for that line that gathered around his bellybutton and headed down the center before disappearing…

Don’t go there, Megan. Bloody hell! Read the book. Read the book! I’m reading my book. Dum de de dum de dum, just reading my book. Where the bloody hell was I?

Shit. Now her inner voice was speaking with an English accent.

10 - Wylie really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:

" 'I thought I heard you giggling. Were you reading?'

'No,' she said, wiping the water that had spewed out of her mouth in surprise.
He heard me? Had he heard her whispering his name over and over like a stuttering parrot? Had he heard her murmur 'Megan Frost Law'? She watched him put the glass to his lips and decided to confess to the lesser of two evils. 'I was…oh God, if you really must know, I was imagining all the naughty, dirty, illegal-in-thirty-two-states things I wanted to do to your body.'

It was Gabriel’s turn to spew.

'Hell,' he croaked between coughs. 'I’m too old for this kind of teasing.' He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up onto the breakfast bar so they were eye to eye. Gabriel spread her knees and stepped between her thighs, leaning in close so their foreheads touched. 'You should have called for me. I would have happily added my suggestions to your list.'

'I gave you plenty of signals last night, Gabriel, but you didn’t touch me.'

'I was fighting with my conscience.'

'Oh? Who won?'

'You did.'
"

11 - Wylie ties a Bermuda sea myth into the romance between Megan and Gabriel beautifully. It doesn't spin this contemporary into a sudden paranormal, but it laces the mystery and charm of the edge-of-the-Caribbean island throughout the book like an ocean breeze.

12 - Wylie captures perfectly the Cinderella moments that women dream about when Megan allows herself to be wooed by Gabriel. He takes her sailing on a private yacht which he explains away as a gift from the Bermuda homeowner. At first she wonders if she should pay for half of the cruise, seeing as he's only a club musician and all...

Most wonderful is the gorgeous bathing suit, gossamer cover and wide-brimmed hat he gives her to wear on the boat.

Megan’s heart started beating out a little calypso tune of its own as she walked toward him. The island, the outfit, the man, all brought out a confidence she’d never had. She felt as if she were dripping diamonds when she walked.

13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!

" 'Where have you been?' He actually looked worried, standing on the top step in the dark as she approached.

'You’re
Gabriel Law!' she accused with pointed finger. She pushed past him and stormed into the cottage. She rounded on him. 'Why didn’t you tell me?'

'Well,' he began, walking toward her slowly and gently as if she were an atomic bomb, 'I believe my opening line was indeed, "Hello, I’m Gabriel Law." ' He took the wine bag out of her hand and placed it on the counter.

'Yes, technically,' she took a deep breath, 'but you should have said, "Hello, I’m Gabriel Law, better known as
Dark Angel"!'

He winced. 'Ah, sorry. I assumed you knew. Most people do.'

'Oh they do not! How many people know Bono’s name — '

'Paul Hewson.'

'Or Sting — '

'Gordon Sumner.'

'Damn you, Gabriel! Just stop it. You
knew I didn’t know.' She wagged her finger at him. 'You purposely deceived me.'

She dropped her bags on the floor and put her hands on her hips. She felt so stupid! Stupid, stupid MEE-gan — brainless, naïve and completely gullible. He must be having the laugh of his life.

She took another deep breath and bit down hard, determined to stifle the tears that were making her throat tight. He reached out to rub the tops of her arms but she jumped back.

'Was this a game to you? Am I some joke that you and
Grinder will have a good chuckle over? Really, Gabriel, I’m so disgusted I could spit!'

Her chest was so tight it was hard to speak. Or breathe. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer so she ran to the bedroom and slammed the door. She barely made it before the sobs came. She held the pillow to her face so he wouldn’t hear her.

Bad choice. The pillow smelled like him.

When she’d typed his name into Google, she was shocked to see the header bar say 'Results 1–10 of 25,300,000 for Gabriel Law'.

That was the moment the dizziness began. Words swam in front of her eyes —
Official Dark Angel Fan Club, Rough Cut Concert Listings, Gabriel Law, the Dark Angel of Rock…

Of course, his tattoo! The angel wing — and she’d been too thick to get it. She’d seen it on T-shirts and album covers, billboards! It was their trademark, like the Rolling Stones lips.

'Megan, can I come in?' Gabriel called through the door, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She quickly sat up on the edge of the bed and tried to swallow but the lump was still lodged at the base of her throat, making her sound like a frog.

'No.'

'Bloody hell,' she heard him murmur behind the door. He came in anyway.


Damn Ash and Gemma for not having locks on their doors.

'Look at me.'

'No.'

'You’re crying.'

'No, I’m not.'
Duh! He was standing in the room. He could see the damn tears. 'Well, yes, but not because of you.'

'Why then?' She lifted her legs and swiveled her ankles, showing off the attractive pink rash. 'Poison ivy. The pharmacist said I have poison ivy, probably from hiding in the bushes at the park, and it’s itchy and I’m miserable.' She put the pillow to her face and let out another sob.

Damn plants. Damn Gabriel.

He got on his knees in front of her and took the mashed, wet pillow out of her hands.

He lifted her chin with his finger so they were eye to eye. She was surprised to find her pain reflected in his tourmaline eyes. She sniffed.

'Please let me explain, Megan.' He slid his hands up her thighs, but it wasn’t an erotic gesture — more like one of a man clinging to the side of a lifeboat. 'I was ecstatic that you didn’t realize who I was. A little shocked, sure, I mean, I do have an ego — quite a huge one, in fact. But if you had recognized me, I would have had to leave.'

'Why?' she sniffed.

He let a few moments pass before answering, his eyes on his hands sliding up and down the outsides of her thighs. He took a deep breath and looked at her. 'Megan, I’m tired of all this. I’ve been touring and partying and trying to maintain an image for twenty years. I’m burnt out and I desperately need a change. I don’t want to be Dark Angel anymore. Do you know how long it’s been since anyone has called me Gabriel? Just plain old Gabriel?'
"

- Wylie Kinson, 2008


Join me next week when I review Jennifer Leeland's Resisting Command. Following that, I'll be reviewing Fox's Bride by Amy Ruttan