tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32964654828856657932024-02-19T08:57:50.349-08:00My Book ReviewsJulia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-54857660896003807702013-03-14T09:33:00.000-07:002013-04-13T12:01:05.807-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 270 - 13 Reasons to Read SPEAK OF THE DEVIL by Shawna Romkey<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Three writers' retreats ago, newest <b><a href="http://www.romancewritersac.com/">Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada</a></b> member <b><a href="http://www.shawnaromkey.com/">Shawna Romkey</a> </b>joined us for an intensive weekend of writing among a group of women who'd known each other for years. That might have put some folks off, wading into a cottage filled with old friends in an atmosphere of focused creative intention.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I knew I'd met a kindred spirit when she put on her Xena Warrior Princess pajamas that first night. On the final day, she was in my brainstorming group with <b><a href="http://taramacqueen.com/">Tara MacQueen</a> </b>-- a glorious moment for all three of us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's my very great pleasure today to be part of Shawna's debut release blog tour. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>1</b> - <a href="http://www.shawnaromkey.com/?page_id=23" style="font-weight: bold;">SPEAK OF THE DEVIL</a> is a 2013 <b><a href="http://crescentmoonpress.com/">Crescent Moon Press</a></b> release. Shawna's debut novel packs Young Adult yearning for love with the paranormal powerhouse of angels and demons duking it out for earthly souls. Remember when you were a senior in high school and everything felt as if the world would end if this didn't happen or that thing <b>did</b> happen? For main character Lily, it's not about outfits that don't pull together. It's about the war in heaven ending up as her school newspaper assignment. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>2</b> - Before we go any farther, feast your eyes and ears on Shawna's book trailer by <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/RachelFirasekAuthor">Rachel Firasek</a></b>, with selected angel photography by <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/C.S.FIELDSPHOTOGRAPHY">Cher Fields</a></b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>3</b> - If it seems like Shawna is all over the blogosphere these days, her 32-stop blog tour may have something to do with that. Celebrating her dream-come-true brings us to today's book review, which is one of 20 starred stops on the tour.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A starred stop means there is a hidden Easter egg somewhere in the post. The </span><a href="http://www.shawnaromkey.com/?page_id=23" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold;">SPEAK OF THE DEVIL</a> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Easter eggs are letters that stand out in some way. For a full list of Shawna's blog tour stops, visit her web site home page and scroll to the bottom:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://www.shawnaromkey.com/">SPEAK OF THE DEVIL Blog Tour</a></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"If you find them and decipher the passcode, you can win a signed copy of SPEAK OF THE DEVIL, a swag pack and a $25 Amazon gift card! Once you've found the eggs in each post [including Shawna's own blog posts] put them together to find the secret passcode.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tweet the code, including @sromkey #speakofthedevil</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hint 1 - The letters are in order</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hint 2 - The passcode will look like this: (--- --- - ---- -- -- -----)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One winner will be chosen from the entries on Easter, March 31st! Good luck!" - Shawna Romkey </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>4</b> - SPEAK OF THE DEVIL brings readers to contemporary Missouri, where teen heroine Lily tries to navigate her way clear of the rockier aspects of adolescence. She's carved a way through her parents' divorce, yet the attentions of her friend Mike leave her reflexively pushing him back to arms' length. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>5</b> - Before she can open herself to begin more than a flirtation with him, a fatal car accident rips Lily's friends from her life forever. Struggling with survivor's guilt, Lily discovers all the sights, sounds and smells of their shared hometown hold her frozen in grief. Reaching out to her dad and his new family, Lily moves to Kansas City and tries to move on with the life that was spared--hers. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>6</b> - Shawna's voice is perfect for the YA genre, capturing Lily's defensive tone with wry observations about life as only an intrepid student reporter can make:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"I took a seat near the front with my camera. High school theater was my beat, so I did my duty. I'd seen several high school performances, and even to other high schoolers they were usually pretty bad. Teenagers are so tied up in their developing self-esteems to be 'in the moment' and uninhibited, which helps with acting. (I know this from watching a lot of Bravo.)"</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>7</b> - SPEAK OF THE DEVIL pits two love interests against Lily's wounded heart. Will it be Luc, he of the time-stands-still gaze and mega-watt charisma? Or will more accessible Mo who makes her laugh and forget be the one to find the chink in her armor? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>8</b> - Shawna's romantic tension is taut and filled with wonderfully identifiable moments, yet that only encompasses one part of her YA paranormal debut. As a dark fantasy/vampire author myself, and a <b><i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supernatural_(U.S._TV_series)">Supernatural</a></i></b> devotee, it's a joy to report that Shawna's heavenly skirmishes are filled with unnerving details like watching nubby demon horns emerge. If a book is set in a paranormal world, I like to feel somewhat spooked by what's going on. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>9</b> - Plus, there's a lot of questioning faith as a result of so much random loss. If there's a serious desire to ask 'what's it all about?' then I'm hooked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>10</b> - Shawna really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>" 'Are you okay to drive?' he asked.</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh, good one, knowing my history and about my friends. I thought it was a low blow though.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Go to hell,' I said. This, for some reason, brought out a burst of laughter from Sean, who again, I believed to be completely sober.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I just shook my head and got in my car. Mo stood there looking hopeless while I drove off.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>I looked back in the rear view as I was pulling out of the parking lot. Sean had parked the van and the four of them were headed inside. Rehearsal I imagined. I drove down the road for a few minutes then thought, I'm not grounded. I don't have to be home. And I really wanted to see what these people were up to, so I turned around and parked in the front parking lot, where the teachers parked since after all it was after school hours. I took my phone, put it on silent, and headed down to where I was sure they'd all be, the theater."</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>11</b> - For anyone heading to the <b><a href="http://www.rtconvention.com/2013-authors-attending">Romantic Times Booklovers Convention</a></b> in Kansas City, Missouri - setting for SPEAK OF THE DEVIL - Shawna will be at the Giant Book Fair on Sat, May 4th from 11:00 - 2:00, <b><a href="http://www.starwoodhotels.com/sheraton/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=3709">Sheraton Kansas City Hotel at Crown Center</a></b>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>12</b> - You can find <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shawna-Romkey-Author/137998326331706?fref=ts">Shawna on Facebook</a></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and on Twitter <b><a href="https://twitter.com/sromkey">@sromkey</a></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>13</b> - I leave you with an excerpt. <span style="font-size: large;"><b>E</b></span>njoy!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Julie fumbled with the wipers while I pulled the sun visor down to check my face in its little rectangular mirror, even though I'd only left my vanity like five minutes ago. The lights on either side lit up the interior of the car. I reached into my tiny party purse to find my lip gloss, which was easy to locate since I'd only packed the essentials in my bag: phone, some cash, and make-up. As I glanced at myself, I saw Mike in the reflection, smiling at me from the back seat. I stuck my tongue out at him, making him laugh, and put on the lip-gloss, fully aware of how flirty I acted.</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The windshield wipers couldn't keep up with the sudden downpour. The pitter-patter turned to thumping. Hail came down in gumball-sized pellets. 'Damn.' Julie jerked the steering wheel to keep The Whale off the curb.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Slow down, Jules.' Mike gripped Julie's headrest. 'We can pull over until it passes.'</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> 'Yeah.' She squinted to see the road before her.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I pressed my lips together to smooth out the gloss. 'Damn is right. I didn't bring a jacket.'</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Whale swerved to the right crunching along the gravel on the side of the road. I braced myself in my seat. Julie leaned up to the steering wheel and peered over it as my grandmother sometimes did when she drove. I squinted because of the stupid light up visor mirror. I slammed it shut, but Julie panicked and over corrected, pulling The Whale to the left and careening over the yellow dotted line in the middle of the street.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'Julie!' Mike shouted.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time slowed and ticked out in heart beats.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Julie cringed, her hands moving up to shield her face. Her head turned away from the highway.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mike reached protectively from the back seat.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The headlights illuminated the rail of the overpass.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The car hit the rail on the opposite side of the road with a hard thud.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Crap. We're going over the bridge.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Whale's nose pointed down toward the water.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A jolt forward and my forehead slammed into the dashboard.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Whale flipped in the air. I'm upside down.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pain.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ba bum.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did my mom say goodbye when I left?"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">- Shawna Romkey, 2013</span>Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-35699381368553626152010-03-18T17:29:00.000-07:002012-01-28T13:16:02.343-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 150 - 13 Reasons to Read McShannon's Chance by Jennie Marsland<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0oRA7ehsz_ngRiSRsey6D9S4FeCIImiHEL69QsdyY5_vLVSqU1z8yGtzrfRvLHYRPC1Ca63kH2XKibfYBFsnMk3Uc8UMTUywDZzdn1J49z26B_rohCjnkolrtGra3Uq8frZ4uKRBT93u/s1600-h/mcshannon's_chance.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 315px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0oRA7ehsz_ngRiSRsey6D9S4FeCIImiHEL69QsdyY5_vLVSqU1z8yGtzrfRvLHYRPC1Ca63kH2XKibfYBFsnMk3Uc8UMTUywDZzdn1J49z26B_rohCjnkolrtGra3Uq8frZ4uKRBT93u/s320/mcshannon's_chance.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449407820193799858" /></a><br /><a href="http://jenniemarsland.webs.com/meetjennie.htm"><strong>Jennie Marsland</strong></a> belongs to my writers' group, <a href="http://www.romancewritersac.com/">Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada</a>. During the business part of our monthly meeting, we have a segment called Member News, where we share writing developments. Jennie was only with us a short time when her member news was <em>'I sold my first book!'</em><br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/McShannons-Chance-Jennie-Marsland/dp/1877546240/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1268877515&sr=1-1">McShannon's Chance</a> is a Romance from <a href="http://www.bluewoodpublishing.com/Blueshop/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=34_35_47&products_id=42">BlueWood Publishing</a>. It released last October in both E-book and print formats. <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - Jennie takes us out to the Colorado of 1870, and as Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote about Oklahoma Territory:<br /><br /><em>Territory folks should stick together <br />Territory folks should all be pals <br />Cowboys dance with the farmer's daughters <br />Farmers dance with the ranchers' gals</em><br /><br />This is the West of big skies, ranches carved from stands of lonesome pines, Civil War vets remaking their lives and women taking their chances with life on their own terms. <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - We meet E.M. Underhill, an emerging Philadelphia painter whose work suggests something of the Impressionist movement making inroads in France. Masking her name with initials helps Beth's work to be taken seriously, but her cousin and guardian takes her least seriously of all. His attempts to marry her off send her instead to a barely-formed Colorado town. She steps off the stagecoach wondering if she'll regret her decision to accept a husband through an agency. But for Beth, it's a husband on her own terms, or none at all. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - Trey McShannon grew up on the edges of antebellum society, refusing to fight for the Confederacy when it finally came down to it. But he fought all the same - for the Union army. Now, with the war only raging in his nightmares, he carves a new life for himself outside Wallace Flats. A respectable homestead, good neighbors. All of it only makes the solitary days and nights that much worse. Writing to an agency for a wife seems like the practical approach, and Trey certainly has too much work taking up his time to go a-courtin'. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - This romance doesn't follow genre convention. It's much more like the 1989 mini-series <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0096639/"><strong><em>Lonesome Dove</em></strong></a>, with Tommy Lee Jones, or 90's series <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0103405/"><strong><em>Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman</em></strong></a>, with Jane Seymour and Joe Lando. We're introduced to a wider cast of characters than most romances allow. We follow two secondary couples, and meet many of the folk who make up the town of Wallace Flats. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - Where this novel excels as a romance are the scenes between Beth and Trey as they begin their relationship with an endpoint - an arranged partnership - and work backwards through their courtship. Jennie has written a 3D-High Definition cowboy in Trey McShannon. No mistaking who's talking when he and Beth are together. He's a man of few words, of unwavering gazes that size Beth up. And Beth, true to form as a woman ahead of her time, is not feisty so much as sassy as she teases Trey with delightful zingers. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - I really enjoyed the artist subplot with Beth's sketching as a counterpoint of expertise as she flounders in the day-to-day work of running a homestead. Her refusal to give up is a truly endearing quality - the unending chores don't dissuade her, the Old Boys Club of the art world doesn't intimidate her, and Trey's obvious war demons don't keep her at a safer distance. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - As I mentioned in my review of Anna Campbell's <strong><em>Captive of Sin</em></strong> - see the top menu bar for the link to my book reviews - a tortured hero is my favorite character, bar none. If there's the promise of a reveal as to why the hero is so tortured, don't lead me on - let me have it, right between the eyes.<br /><br />Jennie delivers, with a poignant scene to which Trey's nightmares have led us in gradual but unrelenting steps. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - If you're used to the slicker pace of commercial romantic fiction, why not let the slower build-up of <strong><em>McShannon's Chance</em></strong> take you off the beaten track? The scenery is always more breathtaking when you take the backroads. Jennie's story takes its pace from the iconic lone cowboy making his way across an immense landscape. Why wear out your horse when there's so much ground to cover, mister? <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Jennie really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>" 'Have it your way, Philadelphia. And you might as well call me Trey.' Another smug grin, followed by a measuring look. 'What are you doing here, anyway? Were you bored in town?'<br /><br />Beth crisply gave him the plain, unvarnished facts.<br /><br />While she spoke, Trey's angry look softened to something that might be curiosity. 'Why didn't you go to your cousin's?'<br /><br />Beth decided to be honest. 'I didn't want to sit in Graham's house and wait for him to find an acceptable man to take me off his hands - acceptable to</em> him.' <em>She looked Trey in the eye again. 'When I wrote, I told you I didn't know much about housekeeping. What did you think you were getting?'<br /><br />'That's not the point. I can't expect you to be content out here.'<br /><br />Now he sounded embarrassed. Beth shrugged. 'Mr. McShannon, I'm a big girl. I thought from your letter that you'd give me credit for being able to make up my own mind.'<br /><br />Trey's heavy brows lifted as he gave her another measuring glance. 'Oh, I'll bet you're an expert at that.' Then he turned his attention back to the road and urged the team into a faster trot."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - As well as an art world subplot that addresses bringing the authentic self into a relationship, rather than trying to deny that person, there is a wonderful undercurrent of the horse world, not surprising in a Colorado homestead story. But Jennie's masterful handling of the horse characters shows a real affinity for the world of the cowboy. Her love of Zane Grey and Louis L'Amour provides the backdrop for Jennie's romantic flare to paint a new west. In this one, the charged banter between Trey and Beth is the fuel for their attraction, not simply the way Trey wears a Stetson, or the way Beth pretties herself up for the Wallace Flats social. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Here's the book trailer: <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1JHCy2Us8_U&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1JHCy2Us8_U&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object> <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Trey got the blanket he kept tied to the back of his saddle, stretched out on it and closed his eyes.<br /><br />The bright sun beat down on him, soothing tired muscles and unclogging his mind. He laid a forearm over his eyes and took in a breath laden with the scent of warm earth. Another...three...four...<br /><br />The acrid reek of burning brush, combined with the odors of sweaty horse and his own unwashed body stung his throat. The last two days fighting had taken place over a burning landscape, set ablaze by artillery fire. A pale, smoke-hazed moon hung above him in the night sky.<br /><br />Cloud stumbled and nearly fell to his knees. Dizzy with fatigue, Trey pulled him up. Sheer instinct kept him in the saddle. He no longer cared if he fell. He only knew they couldn't stop, not with troops from both sides moving through the darkness.<br /><br />The screams of the wounded they hadn't been able to save from the flames that day still rang in Trey's mind, drowning out the subtle night sounds around him. Sounds he shouldn't have ignored.<br /><br />He looked back to check on the rest of his patrol, but they blended into the darkness. In another minute, he'd be turning the corner he could barely see up ahead. His pulse hammered in his ears.<br /><br />He rounded the bend in the road, heard a shout from the darkness of a stand of trees. Metal flashed in the moonlight. Trey pulled his rifle and fired in one smooth motion.<br /><br />Trey dismounted and walked toward the still figure, knowing what he'd see. He turned the body over and looked into the face of the man he'd shot.<br /><br />The darkness broke up and gave way to sunlight again, the cool, smokey night to the warmth of Beth's arms.<br /><br />'Trey, it's alright. It's over.' Her voice barely reached him through the remains of the nightmare. Stomach heaving, muscles frozen, he clung to Beth while she stroked his hair and murmured soothing nonsense. Long, humiliating seconds passed before he regained enough control to pull away. Beth clasped her hands around her knees and waited while he gathered what was left of his dignity.<br /><br />'Maddy told me she and Logan asked you to stay with them your first winter here. I think I know now why you didn't.'<br /><br />Still sick and shaky, Trey wiped his face with his sleeve and looked out over the river. 'Yeah, I guess so.'<br /><br />'How often does this happen?'<br /><br />'Not often, now. Not for a year, until...'<br /><br />'Until I came.' Beth reached for his hand.<br /><br />Trey pulled his hand back. He'd rather have Beth's contempt than her pity, but then he glanced at her and realized she wasn't offering him pity.<br /><br />'There's no point, Beth. Some memories aren't worth sharing. It wouldn't do anyone any good.'<br /><br />Trey picked up a rock and tossed it in the river. The ripples it made spread and vanished with the current."</em><br /><br />- Jennie Marsland, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-34186376379927234282010-02-11T20:01:00.000-08:002010-02-12T20:03:07.211-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 145 - 13 Reasons to Read Captive of Sin by Anna Campbell<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7X2tzwZ6ciPyLsS_MHTD_XfTD6ccbHPtMXXccIi1PAcSBnTjy6m9nQ8-v4x4XxvzvH97QHmAsXw0ov50W4CaI77Z7ze55lsJp_1FMNI6f2bV6IRtIgp_P4nzgdzrrT2DUnWERlYYDeOTM/s1600-h/captive_of_sin.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7X2tzwZ6ciPyLsS_MHTD_XfTD6ccbHPtMXXccIi1PAcSBnTjy6m9nQ8-v4x4XxvzvH97QHmAsXw0ov50W4CaI77Z7ze55lsJp_1FMNI6f2bV6IRtIgp_P4nzgdzrrT2DUnWERlYYDeOTM/s320/captive_of_sin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436769398973137906" /></a><br />I met <a href="http://www.annacampbell.info/about.html">Anna Campbell</a> online through <a href="http://www.christine-wells.com/">Christine Wells</a>, when Christine used to be a co-contributor to my group blog, <a href="http://www.popculturedivas.com/">Popculturedivas</a>.<br /><br />Anna and Christine contribute to their group blog, <a href="http://romancebandits.blogspot.com/">Romance Bandits</a>.<br /><br />I quickly noticed that whenever Anna posted, the comments section immediately turned into a party and the comment numbers shot up into the 100-200 mark. No exaggeration.<br /><br />This didn't happen only at the <strong>Romance Bandits</strong> - no. Whenever Anna posted at her other group blogs or did a guest post, the comment numbers shot up there, too. It's not like I was stalking her or anything. But I did follow her around slavishly to all her blog posts in the hopes of winning a copy of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Captive-Sin-Anna-Campbell/dp/0061684287/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1265847667&sr=1-1"><strong><em>Captive of Sin</em></strong></a> - which I finally did! Woo hoo! Yeah, baby.<br /><br />Check out a few of her bloggy gems: <br /><br /><a href="http://vauxhallvixens.blogspot.com/2009/10/guest-blog-sex-is-never-just-about-sex.html">The Sex is Never Just About the Sex</a> guesting @ Vauxhall Vixens<br /><a href="http://romancebandits.blogspot.com/2010/01/dust-never-sleeps.html">Dust Never Sleeps</a> @ the Romance Bandits<br /><a href="http://authorsoundrelations.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-reading-bonanza.html">Christmas Reading Bonanza</a> @ Tote Bags 'n' Blogs<br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Captive-Sin-Anna-Campbell/dp/0061684287/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1265847667&sr=1-1"><strong><em>Captive of Sin</em></strong></a> is an <a href="http://www.harpercollins.ca/authors/31961/Anna_Campbell/index.aspx">Avon Historical Romance</a> imprint from HarperCollins. It released last November in North America and more recently in Australia, Anna's home and native land. <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - <strong><em>Captive of Sin</em></strong> is Anna's fourth book. She has also published:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Claiming-Courtesan-Avon-Romantic-Treasures/dp/0061234915/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_4"><strong><em>Claiming the Courtesan</em></strong></a><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Untouched-Anna-Campbell/dp/0061234923/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_2"><strong><em>Untouched</em></strong></a><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Tempt-Devil-Anna-Campbell/dp/0061234931/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_3"><strong><em>Tempt the Devil</em></strong></a><br /><br />Upcoming in June:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.annacampbell.info/recklesssurrender.html"><strong><em>My Reckless Surrender</em></strong></a><br /> <br /><strong>3</strong> - Anna takes us into the world of Regency Noir. A phrase coined by Stephanie Laurens in a quote for <strong><em>Claiming the Courtesan</em></strong>, Regency Noir has since become a subgenre that gives the normally light Regency period a Gothic undertone, for those of us who love our heroes to be tortured.<br /><br />Literally. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - We meet Lady Charis Weston, who gives a false name to the man who discovers her cowering in the inn stables after she escapes a brutal beating at the hands of her fortune-hunting step-brothers. Being a wealthy heiress has its advantages. But Charis has yet to experience any of them, and now doubts she will live the few weeks till she reaches her majority, when her funds will finally be at her disposal. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - Sir Gideon Trevithick returns from India a national hero, having survived capture as a spy and imprisonment under intolerable conditions. Named <em>'the bravest fellow in the empire'</em> by Wellington and knighted by the king, all Gideon wants to do is return to his family's seat in Cornwall - and forget.<br /><br />But the battered young woman he coaxes from her hiding place in the stables brings his own torment rushing to the surface. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - Those who know me, know I love a tortured hero. It has been ever so. As a child I was wildly attracted to the animated sight of <em>Sleeping Beauty</em>'s Prince Philip chained up by Maleficent.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4AVtsCVNJ44KDpeKYm8BW9_vDw9eWJrm13bs5UXXEVLKslSws-H-A_RtBhLezef5o01uNPIEAY5EpZcxFXx9hWdpNuUUwWWsGpP0zduDfJyJ7_zOZTB67mg4RZkoBfveh9QMTJ5L3973/s1600-h/prince_philip.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 139px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4AVtsCVNJ44KDpeKYm8BW9_vDw9eWJrm13bs5UXXEVLKslSws-H-A_RtBhLezef5o01uNPIEAY5EpZcxFXx9hWdpNuUUwWWsGpP0zduDfJyJ7_zOZTB67mg4RZkoBfveh9QMTJ5L3973/s320/prince_philip.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436820130349953890" /></a> <br /><br />He doesn't flinch from fighting off the dragon version of the evil fairy, even when her enormous size and strength dwarfs him as he takes refuge under his shield. But Prince Philip never loses his grip on his courage or his sword, and I know he's the archetype of all of my favorite romance heroes.<br /><br />Including Gideon, who was awarded the 2009 KISS Award (Knight in Shining Silver) from <em>Romantic Times</em> <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - <a href="http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/CA6704595.html">Publisher's Weekly</a> named <strong><em>Captive of Sin</em></strong> one of their top 100 books of 2009: <em>"Gideon tries to fight their growing attraction, believing the beautiful and warm Charis deserves better than a man so damaged by trauma and survivor's guilt, but Charis's clever plan to heal his wounded soul reveals delightful insight and leads to luscious love scenes."</em> <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - Remember the noir in Regency Noir. I like my characters to truly suffer on their way to a happy ending. I love to feel my heart crush in my chest in sympathy with the hero and heroine. I love brushing tears away when my heart springs back to life, just when I thought there was no possible way it could ever work out for them.<br /><br />As I read about Anna's book, and as I pursued my copy with the hope-hope-hope that it would come to me, I felt the wild dream burn in my heart that a truly gutsy story with the perfect hero was waiting for me between those pages.<br /><br />Once I got to the reveal about Gideon's past, I was truly impressed by the nightmare of his imprisonment. Many stories promise tortured heroes, but few actually deliver. For a woman like me who can't resist Joe Harmon from <em>A Town Like Alice</em>, Edmond Dantes from <em>The Count of Monte Cristo</em> or Anton Gorodetsky from <em>Night Watch</em> and <em>Day Watch</em>, Gideon lives up to every expectation and then takes me even deeper into Noirsville. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - Something that really shines about this book is the youth of the heroine. In fact, I'm certain this love story is only possible because the heroine is young enough to truly believe in the healing power of her love for Gideon. A more seasoned woman would be put off by the warnings of Gideon's post traumatic stress disorder. Despite that youth, Charis, having been put through the mill herself by her own relations, has that essential common ground to answer Gideon's litany of reasons as to why she should forget him. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Anna really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Wheels clattered on cobblestones. A moving carriage forced people out of the way.<br /><br />'Come on. Run. And keep your head down.'<br /><br />She scuttled at his side, floundering to keep up with a man who made no allowance for her shorter legs or her injuries.<br /><br />Akash flung open the carriage door and tossed her inside. She landed against the seat with a jolt that sent pain slicing through her. Ignoring her discomfort, she slid across the seat to press her face to the carriage window.<br /><br />Through the joyful hordes, Akash pushed his way toward his friend. Gideon retained that frozen, remote expression, but he didn't break away from his devotees.<br /><br />She couldn't hear what Akash said to Gideon over the hubbub. She saw Gideon turn and head with jerkily precise movements toward the carriage. With visible reluctance, the crowd parted before him. Voracious hands stretched out to pluck at his clothing, delay his departure, compel his attention. Doggedly he continued his automaton-like progress.<br /><br />He climbed in and sat opposite. He didn't speak. He didn't look at her. He didn't appear to know she was there at all.<br /><br />Akash slammed the door on them. There was a burst of patriotic cheering outside. Someone started to sing</em> God Save the King.<br /><br /><em>The celebrity straightened and shot Akash an angry glare. 'For Christ's sake, let us go.'<br /><br />'God keep you, my friend. I'll see you soon.' He stepped back and sent Charis an elegant bow. 'Miss Watson. Your servant.'<br /><br />Before Charis could respond, Tulliver whipped the horses to a pace dangerous in town streets. She clutched at the strap and stared bewildered at her companion.<br /><br />He looked ill. As though he suffered intolerable pain. With a shock, she realized the set expression was endurance, not distain.<br /><br />Automatically, she stretched out to take his gloved hand. 'Sir Gideon...'<br /><br />'Curse you, don't touch me!'<br /><br />He wrenched out of reach. But not before she felt his desperate, uncontrollable shaking."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - The interwoven elements of impending doom turn the stakes up as high as they can go. Charis is pursued by her dangerous step-brothers as she fights to free Gideon from his personal demons. The genteel distresses of Regency stories turning on misheard phrases or undeserved reputations, and whether or not the heroine will be invited to the soiree, are laid aside in favor of cruel gender politics, psychological character study and personal redemption. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Yet Gideon, for all of his haunted agony, is not called the Hero of Rangapindhi for nothing. His compassion for Charis and his assured offer of sanctuary when they come under physical attack sets Gideon squarely in the pantheon of great romantic heroes. Gideon has made many readers' Top Hero lists, and easily makes a place for himself on mine - right next to Jo Beverley's Rothgar. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Half an hour ago she'd left him in the parlor. He'd been drinking brandy, and the bleakness in his eyes had made her want to weep. The desolation had always been there, but now she knew his past, it cut her to the bone.<br /><br />She looked up from her troubled thoughts to see Gideon standing in the doorway. She hadn't heard him arrive. He always moved like a cat, so that was hardly surprising. His hair was ruffled, and one gloved hand negligently encircled a glass. He'd removed his neckcloth, and his shirt was open, giving her shadowy glimpses of his hard chest.<br /><br />He didn't advance into the room.<br /><br />She licked lips dry with nerves. His gaze fastened feverishly on the movement. His gloved hand tautened on his brandy. The warm air swirled with sudden sensual turbulence.<br /><br />He cleared his throat and shifted his gaze above her head. 'I'm sleeping in the parlor. I think...I think it's best.'<br /><br />With unsteady hands, she grabbed a shawl and slid out of bed. Ignoring the resistance in his face, she stepped close enough to read ravaging torment in his dark eyes. 'Don't be ridiculous, Gideon. It's cold and uncomfortable.'<br /><br />He looked at her. 'After Rangapindhi, it's the height of luxury.'<br /><br />'Oh, my dear, Rangapindhi is over,' she said in a low voice. It seemed a sign of progress that he mentioned his captivity without prompting. She extended one hand toward him, then let it drop to her side. 'You're free.'<br /><br />His smile held no amusement. 'I'll never be free.'<br /><br />This acceptance of his fate angered her. 'If you don't fight, you won't.'<br /><br />His tall, lean body vibrating resentment, he stalked across to the fireplace. He tossed back his brandy and set the glass down sharply on the mantel. He focused a furious glare on her. 'Don't talk about what you don't understand.'<br /><br />Her mind filled with a sudden memory of the stark desire in his face as he'd looked at her last night. Had she nerve to use that weapon to break him?<br /><br />'I understand you've decided to wallow in self-pity for the remainder of your days,' she said, knowing she wasn't fair. But this wasn't about fairness.<br /><br />'You have no right to say that.' A muscle jerked erratically in his cheek. He was close to losing patience. He turned away and closed his eyes as if he couldn't bear to look at her. 'I won't forgive you if you make this more a nightmare than it already is.' He flung his head up and glared at her like he hated her. His furious black eyes threatened to incinerate her where she stood. 'Damn it, Charis, I hurt you.'<br /><br />'It doesn't have to be like that,' she said in a ghost of her usual voice.<br /><br />'For us, it does.' He sounded heartbreakingly sure.<br /><br />'I'm not giving up, Gideon.'<br /><br />His mouth thinned with anger, but when he spoke, his voice was frigid. 'You will. This is a war you can't win.'<br /><br />She spread her hands in helpless bewilderment. He had so much strength. Why didn't he enlist it in his own cause? 'Don't you want a real life?'<br /><br />His short laugh was so harsh, it flayed like flying shards of glass. 'Of course I do.'<br /><br />She fought the impulse to retreat. She'd known when she chose this path that her greatest enemy would be Gideon himself. 'Your memories aren't always in control,' she said hoarsely. 'I saw you in Portsmouth. You knocked down any man within reach. You weren't afraid to touch people then.'<br /><br />'Yes, I find relief in violence.' His voice roughened into sarcasm. 'Are you suggesting I beat you?' "</em><br /><br />- Anna Campbell, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-10581653183043308302010-02-02T10:46:00.000-08:002010-02-06T10:47:59.074-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 144 - 13 Reasons to Read Dark Harmony by Lilly Cain<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxAAfnJQfj7sj5ui0oLgHH1Hgw1juxbAscqX1lWgTrb13gB5G7z8_AAvIAcTFR-sp1I0GMDyYtBegzbP43bPXjMOFWuKdnQWPOJJ2qc96Z8h9rBH5TEOtjBOZ3xv_5RnncW-iUxq-cI6B/s1600-h/dark_harmony.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxAAfnJQfj7sj5ui0oLgHH1Hgw1juxbAscqX1lWgTrb13gB5G7z8_AAvIAcTFR-sp1I0GMDyYtBegzbP43bPXjMOFWuKdnQWPOJJ2qc96Z8h9rBH5TEOtjBOZ3xv_5RnncW-iUxq-cI6B/s320/dark_harmony.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434178678758656610" /></a><br /><a href="http://eredsage.com/store/Dark_Harmony_Lilly_Cain_eBook.html"><strong><em>Dark Harmony</em></strong></a> is the debut novel from <a href="http://www.lillycain.com/about.php">Lilly Cain</a>, one of the amazing women from my writers' group, <a href="http://www.romancewritersac.com/authors.php">Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada</a>.<br /><br />She's been to the writers' retreats I so adore, and at the latest one this past fall we all celebrated along with her when she received confirmation of <strong><em>Dark Harmony</em></strong>'s release date.<br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://eredsage.com/store/Dark_Harmony_Lilly_Cain_eBook.html"><strong><em>Dark Harmony</em></strong></a> is part of <a href="http://www.eredsage.com/">Red Sage</a>'s Action & Adventure/Contemporary/Vampire categories, and is an erotica eBook romance.<br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - We meet Helena Townsend, who loves to feel the pulsing energy of the club crowd as she dances to live music. One night she's uncharacteristically drawn to a gorgeous man who parts the dance floor like a mist to draw her to him. Twenty years later, Lena has escaped the cruel dominance of that man from the club - no man, but a vampire pack leader who made her life both a living hell and a confusing passionate release. <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - Richard Heron is a music journalist covering trends for <em>Rolling Stone</em>, still not recovered from the violent death of his sexually-submissive wife at the hands of an unknown dom. Richard is entranced by Lena, a beautiful woman he meets in an Irish bar, her face glowing with the energy and vibe of the band and the crowd, as though she's fed somehow by live musical performance.<br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - Before his wife died, Richard had supplemented his journalism by opening a club where sexual fantasies could be revealed and pursued. His own dominant tendencies initially scare off a once-bitten-twice-shy Lena. The same instincts which led him to open his club in the first place serve him well when he rises to the challenge of re-introducing Lena to the authentic lover inside her.<br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - I found this story's BDSM subplot very touching. What is dominance and submission if not the symbolic surrender to a lover? The very fact that Lena has vampiric strength that could break any bedroom bondage puts her scenes with Richard into a different realm, which Lilly writes with accomplished emotional depth. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - Lilly Cain handles the reactions of the human characters to the shock of vampires entering their world with wry realism. Her scenes take us from the contemporary world into the paranormal with the jolt one would expect from such a revelation, and she doesn't shy away from the horror aspects of traditional vampire stories. These characters aren't simply bad boy characters - they are chilling killers. As a lover of traditional vampire stories, I'm very grateful for that. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - I really enjoyed the black humor peppered throughout the story. This part made me laugh out loud in the midst of a high-tension vampire attack scene:<br /><br /><em>Glimpses of the men and women surrounding her flashed in the available light. Gleaming eyes, soft lips, long hair, they were beautiful, and they laughed at her. What the hell was wrong with her? She was being molested by a group of psychotic fashion models, and she should be screaming.</em><br /><br />When Richard realizes he's been bitten twice by his vampire lover, he says <em>'So why are you following me? And does being marked mean that you have some sort of power over me? Will I start eating bugs?' He smiled weakly, but the questions were serious.</em> <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - Lena has made an interesting decision by the time we meet up with her again, twenty years after her turning. She rejects the truths her maker Darien told her about what it takes to live as a vampire. I enjoyed this original concept toward alternatives to the taking of human life. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - In order to survive against the vampire pack she left behind, Lena has become an adept martial arts fighter. As a huge fan of the <em>Kill Bill</em> films, I also relished this aspect of <strong><em>Dark Harmony</em></strong>, which leads to some exciting fight sequences. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Lilly really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Her eyes flicked to the other man, one she really, really didn’t want to recognize. Her fear grew, oh, so much worse. He snarled in anger. Darien. He had yet to move in her direction, but the threat he exuded could not be ignored. He could be her death. Sweat drenched her in a quick flood. The noise in the bar faded, and people near her backed away as her terror brushed against them.</em><br /><br />Time to run. <em>The sounds of the bar flooded back into her senses. She grabbed her satchel and left the table. Her body swayed in tempo with those around her as she passed through the crowd. Some wouldn’t step aside for her and she shoved them, hard, and headed for the back.<br /><br />'Helena.'<br /><br />She heard him call, her ex-lover, her ex-master, his voice harsh with anger and, perhaps, longing. Both emotions had her heart pounding.</em> There, a fire door. <em>Forcing it open, she ignored the shrill burst from the fire alarm and fled the area as quickly as possible.<br /><br />Not quick enough. As she entered the alley, she caught the sickly scent of cooling blood."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - As someone who also writes about vampires, I really enjoyed Lilly's scenes involving practical problems such as dealing with the oncoming sunrise. Very nice world-building here. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqee8y5yWhxGfD6rPuIUtRQthf6DSDo7mTAOTJLmKzTc2lW76GAhtHGe4HhAlKVcAU4rqg5KP0ijDREX2EBQWzwdAT4fdcce6-RGbrMGOkyLle1PQbMavWRXahT1trUOk8LO6JKtD5POp/s1600-h/sai.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 80px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqee8y5yWhxGfD6rPuIUtRQthf6DSDo7mTAOTJLmKzTc2lW76GAhtHGe4HhAlKVcAU4rqg5KP0ijDREX2EBQWzwdAT4fdcce6-RGbrMGOkyLle1PQbMavWRXahT1trUOk8LO6JKtD5POp/s320/sai.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434235106449110674" /></a><br /><strong>12</strong> - The three-pronged <em>sai</em>, Lena's weapon of choice, is a good symbol for the flavors of this story. The vampire aspect is the central blade, with action/adventure and dominance/submission running alongside like the two outside blades. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"He walked to the mirror hanging over the dressing table. Those few steps made him dizzy again. He clutched the panties in his fist. Great sex was one thing, but this weakness, that was another. He looked pale in the mirror, and tired. A soft green bruise bloomed on his inner thigh, and on his wrist a darker mark had formed. He looked at his arm and shuddered. There were two tiny scabs in the middle of the bruise.<br /><br />'Lena?' he called again.<br /><br />She had to be in the bathroom. Was she embarrassed by their impulsive night? Or feeling like him, sick as a dog?<br /><br />He pounded against the bathroom door. 'Lena, are you okay?'<br /><br />The door was locked.<br /><br />Despite his screaming skull, he knocked louder.<br /><br />'Lena! Are you all right? Let me in.'</em><br /><br />What if she isn’t okay? <em>He dropped her underwear and threw his weight against the door.</em><br /><br />***<br /><br /><em>Lena's dream changed. She bared her fangs and hissed a feral warning. The demon threw agonizing beams of light at her. Her eyes streamed as the light pierced them, and she threw up her arm to protect herself.<br /><br />Then it was gone. All was quiet. She lapsed back into complete unconsciousness. The dark had returned so her slumber deepened. A part of her sighed for the lost dream.</em><br /><br />***<br /><br /><em>'Holy shit!' Richard panted as he slammed the door between him and the creature in the bathroom.<br /><br />'Jesus Christ!' He scrambled backward and stared at the door, expecting at any moment to be faced with the spitting cat-creature he’d awoken in the tub. It couldn’t be Lena. It couldn’t.</em> What the fuck was that?<br /><br /><em>The lights had been off. He’d seen a figure wrapped in blankets lying in the tub. Odd, but perhaps she was shy about sleeping in front of a man who, although they had shared the most intimate of moments, barely knew her.<br /><br />He’d called her name and flicked on the lights. He’d reached in to shake her shoulder. And then—<br /><br />Richard shuddered and wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead. The bathroom door remained closed. Everything was quiet. Still, he couldn’t move.<br /><br />As the bathroom light had flickered on, she changed. It had been Lena, he was sure now. But with the light her face grew furious, and she snarled and hissed at him. And her mouth, her mouth stretched wide to bare those gleaming white fangs, so long—<br /><br />He checked his wrist. The bruise seemed lighter but the marks were still there.</em> Jesus, she bit me!"<br /><br />- Lilly Cain, 2010Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-4671064175374637772009-10-14T11:08:00.000-07:002010-02-06T11:09:12.733-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 128 - 13 Reasons to Read Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLhVCG6UAJ2t0zxScgGWnxQJ1fFaA9AUAw2aA3DDmFGyn_Nd_wuL-au4kFKWXUb88r2RRIFpQbBWpTUnOMboCOMFp-Bk6MlK_T6BMi11aVt2t4F_K27X45ClYRg0XCHDmV8FHY4hA7Xk/s1600-h/olive_edition_everything_is_illuminated_cover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLhVCG6UAJ2t0zxScgGWnxQJ1fFaA9AUAw2aA3DDmFGyn_Nd_wuL-au4kFKWXUb88r2RRIFpQbBWpTUnOMboCOMFp-Bk6MlK_T6BMi11aVt2t4F_K27X45ClYRg0XCHDmV8FHY4hA7Xk/s320/olive_edition_everything_is_illuminated_cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392261416327561298" /></a><br />The year is barrelling along and I've only got three months to complete my <strong>Dewey Book Challenge</strong>. Considering it's October and I'm finishing the third of six books, you can see my concern.<br /><br />However, I shall persevere.<br /><br />All of you avid readers out there who gobble up books like cups of coffee must wonder what it's like to find six books in one year a challenge. Well, I bump whatever I'm reading for myself when a new release comes out that I want to review. Those ones I get to in a hurry.<br /><br />Also, there's the whole reading-on-the-bus thing. That's pretty much the only time I read. But reading almost always gets bumped for sleep. And during the work week, I average four hours of sleep a night, because I'm a night owl and I'm buzzing with creative energy all the way to midnight. Then I have to wind down and get ready for sleep. 2:00 am comes along and my head hits the pillow. 6:00 am comes and the alarm goes off. The only way I catch the 7:00 bus is by promising myself I can go back to sleep once I get on the bus.<br /><br />I snooze for an hour with my book unopened in my purse. I blog on my break and during my lunch hour. I read while I wait for the bus on the way home. I even begin the trip reading. But my eyes quickly get heavy, the book goes back in my purse and I <em>manufacture more ZZZs</em>, as a character from today's book would say.<br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Everything-Illuminated-Jonathan-Safran-Foer/dp/0060529709/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1255578436&sr=1-5"><em>Everything is Illuminated</em></a> is the third book I'm reviewing for the <strong>Dewey Book Challenge</strong>. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwggnLRvlsivCn9Iq2Pw0HU2iK78UVGpsFEnWyztguqd3Pzo-VfJ7Icc6j1b_RoRPbDyOTmDOdRwR_2W0yH17-z0MTGvLm_KXSBaqVjhoi8dYcjlZ2lcNGphtpwX3GpQdJy5X0TnIfVgM/s1600-h/we_will_remember_dewey.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 174px; height: 155px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwggnLRvlsivCn9Iq2Pw0HU2iK78UVGpsFEnWyztguqd3Pzo-VfJ7Icc6j1b_RoRPbDyOTmDOdRwR_2W0yH17-z0MTGvLm_KXSBaqVjhoi8dYcjlZ2lcNGphtpwX3GpQdJy5X0TnIfVgM/s320/we_will_remember_dewey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392262215571958290" /></a><br />For those who are new to this challenge, it came about as a way to honor the memory of a book blogger who passed away last December. The challenge asked readers to choose six books from her six-year archive of book reviews. I decided to pick one book from each of the six years she blogged and reviewed, from 2003 to 2008. But I didn't let the year of release decide my reading schedule for me. I began with the book I was most burning to read, which was <a href="http://juliasbookreviews.blogspot.com/2009/05/thursday-thirteen-107-13-reasons-to.html"><em>March</em></a> by Geraldine Brooks.<br /><br />Next I simply had to read the other Geraldine Brooks novel I'd chosen - <a href="http://juliasbookreviews.blogspot.com/2009/09/thursday-thirteen-125-13-reasons-to.html"><em>Year of Wonders.</em></a> <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHszQwr90Es_kwPSEd5m5Eaq2acvigA6C4QqP1X6FOUFZfP2CujQ1rPomUcWVf_d-AnCGCnpVb792nq6gaY8QmU0I3dwpX9elBufD7RsFqT4N3Mv9w0JoAKtcIyOwkrkadC4apJW7Y0Zc/s1600-h/everything_is_illuminated_cover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHszQwr90Es_kwPSEd5m5Eaq2acvigA6C4QqP1X6FOUFZfP2CujQ1rPomUcWVf_d-AnCGCnpVb792nq6gaY8QmU0I3dwpX9elBufD7RsFqT4N3Mv9w0JoAKtcIyOwkrkadC4apJW7Y0Zc/s320/everything_is_illuminated_cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392270702410746082" /></a><br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - The yellow cover pictured above is the edition I own. It's an <a href="http://olivereader.com/perennial/article/in_which_people_say_nice_things_about_us/">Olive Edition</a>, an imprint of <a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/">HarperCollins</a>.<br /><br />The original HarperCollins release cover is pictured at left. Both versions were there at the book store. I was just drawn to the smaller, thicker Olive Edition. I liked the sparse cover art.<br /><br />Once I was into the story, I realized the blue and yellow text cover of the regular version echoes the colors of the Ukrainian flag. The Ukraine provides most of the setting for the book.<br /><br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - As many of you know, I'm a certified Russophile (one who loves Russia and Russians.) That was the main draw for choosing this novel for the challenge.<br /><br />So why wasn't it the first one that I read? Well, history trumps contemporary for me, so Geraldine Brooks' two historical novels had to come first. But the Ukraine-set story was hot on the heels of the first two. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - We meet Alex, the main first-person narrator of the book. He's in his early twenties and living at home with his parents, his grandfather and his younger brother Igor. Alex has crystal-clear plans for his future. He's saving currency in order to move himself and Little Igor to America, where he will become a first-rate accountant and buy an impressive car. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - Before this can materialize, however - and Alex has already stashed away a sizable amount in a cookie jar - Alex must act as the translator for Jonathan Safran Foer, a young New York Jew touring the Ukraine in order to track down the woman who saved his grandfather from the Nazis. This fictional character carries the identical name of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Safran_Foer">book's author</a>, but is portrayed at arms' length, either through Alex's POV, or through the account he writes of his Ukrainian-Jewish ancestors. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - The novel jumps back and forth through time. It begins with Alex in present-day Odessa, but alternates between the fictional Jonathan's story of his great-great-great-great-great-grandmother and the early life of the town he's come to Ukraine to find: Trachimbrod. It also leaps into the more recent past to cover Jonathan's immigrant grandfather's story before he arrived in America.<br /><br />The form of the novel also alternates between Alex's direct address of the reader; his letters written to Jonathan from the not-too-distant future once Jonathan has returned to New York; examples of documentation from Trachimbrod's past such as poems, plays and journals; the normal format of a novel; a stylistic alteration of that form to include huge sections without breaks for new paragraphs; empty space on the page; and numerous <a href="http://web.uvic.ca/wguide/Pages/LTReflexive.html">self-reflexive devices</a> which treat the characters in the story as the fictional beings they are. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - The journey to find Trachimbrod also belongs to Grandfather, sent by Alex's father to be the driver for Odessa Heritage Tours. Since the death of his wife, Grandfather insists he's blind, although he's not. The fourth member of the road trip crew is Sammy Davis, Junior Junior, Grandfather's seeing-eye bitch and named for his favorite Negro. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - An unending source of delight and many, many laughs is Alex's spastic grasp of English. Check out this conversation between Alex and Jonathan in the kooky little Russian car:<br /><br /><em>" 'Are there Negro accountants?' 'There are African-American accountants. You don't want to use that word, though, Alex.' 'And homosexual accountants?' 'There are homosexual everythings. There are homosexual garbage men.' 'How much currency would a Negro homosexual accountant receive?' 'You shouldn't use that word.' 'Which word?' 'The one before homosexual.' 'What?' 'The n-word. Well, it's not</em> the <em>n-word, but-' 'Negro?' 'Shh.' 'I dig Negroes.' 'You really shouldn't say that.' 'But I dig them all the way. They are premium people.' "</em> <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - The language in this book is all over the place, from Alex's hilarious word choices to Safran Foer's poetic gems sprinkled throughout the many narratives. Here are a few gems:<br /><br /><em>"4:513</em>-The dream of angels dreaming of men. <em>It was during an afternoon nap that I dreamt of a ladder. Angels were sleepwalking up and down the rungs, their eyes closed, their breath heavy and dull, their wings hanging limp at the sides. I bumped into an old angel as I passed him, waking and startling him. He looked like my grandfather did before he passed away last year, when he would pray each night to die in his sleep. Oh, the angel said to me, I was just dreaming of you."</em><br /><br /><em>"If we are to be such nomads with the truth, why do we not make the story more premium than life? It seems to me that we are making the story even inferior. We often make ourselves appear as though we are foolish people, and we make our voyage, which was an ennobled voyage, appear very normal and second rate. We could give your grandfather two arms, and could make him high-fidelity. We could give Brod what she deserves instead of what she gets. Grandfather and I could embrace, and it could be perfect and beautiful, and funny, and usefully sad, as you say."</em><br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Mr. Safran Foer really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Grandfather and I viewed television for several hours after Father reposed. We are both people who remain conscious very tardy. We viewed an American television program that had the words in Russian at the bottom of the screen. It was about a Chinaman who was resourceful with a bazooka. We also viewed the weather report. The weatherman said that the weather would be very abnormal the next day, but that the next day after that would be normal. Amid Grandfather and I was a silence you could cut with a scimitar. The only time that either of us spoke was when he rotated to me during an advertisement for McDonald's McPorkburgers and said, 'I do not want to drive ten hours to an ugly city to attend to a very spoiled Jew.' "</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - The tone of the book changes on a dime between laugh-out-loud funny and catch-in-your-throat poignant. There are affectionate portrayals of 18th-century shtetl life and blistering scenes lifting the lid on hushed-up wartime decimations of whole histories. Of course, my favorite sections revolved around Alex and his enthusiastic use of words like <em>premium</em>, <em>the hero</em> (referring to Jonathan,) <em>'I exhibited Little Igor a smutty magazine three days yore'</em>, and <em>'I do not have any additional luminous remarks, because I must possess more of the novel in order to lumin.'</em> <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - As most of you know by now, I always prefer the film version of any story. It's the film school grad in me. I asked my husband to bring the DVD home even before I'd finished the book, because I simply had to hear Alex's voice. The actor who played him said everything exactly the way I heard it in my head.<br /><br />This beautifully-done indie film, directed by actor <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liev_Schreiber">Liev Schreiber</a>, has now instantaneously become one of my all-time favorite films. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tSUOYY4oukc&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tSUOYY4oukc&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Keep in mind the author plays around with form and structure. The text appears here just as it does in the novel. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"We became very busy talking. When I rotated back to Grandfather, I saw that he was examining Augustine again. There was a sadness amid him and the photograph, and nothing in the world frightened me more. 'We will eat,' I told him. 'Good,' he said, holding the photograph very near to his face. Sammy Davis, Junior Junior was persisting to cry. 'One thing, though,' the hero said. 'What?' 'You should know...' 'Yes?' 'I am a...how to say this...' 'What?' 'I'm a...' 'You are very hungry, yes?' 'I'm a vegetarian.' 'I do not understand.' 'I don't eat meat.' 'Why not?' 'I just don't.' 'He does not eat meat,' I told Grandfather. 'Yes he does,' he informed me. 'Yes you do,' I likewise informed the hero. 'No. I don't.' 'Why not?' I inquired him again. 'I just don't. No meat.' 'Pork?' 'No.' 'Meat?' 'No meat.' 'Steak?' 'Nope.' 'Chickens?' 'No.' 'Do you eat veal?' 'Oh, God. Absolutely no veal.' 'What about sausage?' 'No sausage either.' I told Grandfather this, and he presented me a very bothered look. 'What is wrong with him?' he asked. 'What is wrong with you?' I asked him. 'It's just the way I am.' 'Hamburger?' 'No.' 'What did he say is wrong with him?' Grandfather asked. 'It is just the way he is.' 'Does he eat sausage?' 'No.' 'No sausage!' 'No. He says he does not eat sausage.' 'In truth?' 'That is what he says.' 'But sausage...' 'I know.' 'In truth you do not eat sausage?' 'No sausage.' 'No sausage,' I told Grandfather. He closed his eyes and tried to put his arms around his stomach, but there was not room because of the wheel. It appeared like he was becoming sick because the hero would not eat sausage. 'Well, let him deduce what he is going to eat. We will go to the most proximal restaurant.' <br /><br />'What do you mean he does not eat meat?' the waitress asked, and Grandfather put his head in his hands. 'What is wrong with him?' she asked. 'It is only the way that he is.' The hero asked what we were talking about. 'They do not have anything without meat,' I informed him. 'He does not eat any meat at all?' she inquired me again. 'It is merely the way he is,' I told her. 'Sausage?' 'No sausage,' Grandfather answered to the waitress, rotating his head from here to there. 'Maybe you could eat some meat,' I suggested to the hero, 'because they do not have anything that is not meat.' 'Don't they have potatoes or something?' he asked. 'Do you have potatoes?' I asked the waitress. 'You only receive a potato with the meat,' she said. I told the hero. 'Couldn't I just get a plate of potatoes?' I asked the waitress, and she said she would go to the chef and inquire him. 'Ask him if he eats liver,' Grandfather said."</em><br /><br />- Jonathan Safran Foer, 2002Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-49886945031925253502009-09-22T02:14:00.000-07:002009-09-26T12:15:26.030-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 125 - 13 Reasons to Read Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFVCQSU7zH2y9Ou9PC7UW836Dr0CAeLhxHdeq5DB8I7ZFxgBgtqsWQc_fCzrgeCCBj_8X75kNuap7_OJT27U46n6eLjdWvkEHADvcChVweAq5mBnoVZJi8fPvmZJ5heiERsusZdtvbhY/s1600-h/year_of_wonders.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFVCQSU7zH2y9Ou9PC7UW836Dr0CAeLhxHdeq5DB8I7ZFxgBgtqsWQc_fCzrgeCCBj_8X75kNuap7_OJT27U46n6eLjdWvkEHADvcChVweAq5mBnoVZJi8fPvmZJ5heiERsusZdtvbhY/s320/year_of_wonders.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384456331381281666" /></a><br />Deeply-missed book blogger <strong>Dewey</strong> passed away 10 months ago. For awhile, her blog remained for us to click onto and once again read her insightful reviews of fabulous books.<br /><br />Recently I've discovered that the link to her blog no longer connects. I guess it's time to let go of some things.<br /><br />I'm a third of the way through my reading challenge based on books that Dewey reviewed. I recently found a review of another of 'Dewey's books' over at <a href="http://susanflynn.blogspot.com/2009/09/book-that-broke-my-heart-and-patched-it.html">You Can Never Have Too Many Books</a>, along with this wonderful sentiment from Susan:<br /><br /><em>"That last quote also reminded me of Dewey. It's been almost a year now since she passed away. I'm glad this was a book she loved and recommended. To you, Dewey."</em> <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylLpQXA0bvCtIhMT-M735PXcb4RWuX_iU0LTlvmITekxZVTCJWiNDF30eLAzFCBopZBT8qUmJLnUqsT8dQgc-AotNGa1ggvDKFuDXDicM17KcljC1XhmnGbbni96TsYOWe6bzrAjq2Cg/s1600-h/we_will_remember_dewey.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 174px; height: 155px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylLpQXA0bvCtIhMT-M735PXcb4RWuX_iU0LTlvmITekxZVTCJWiNDF30eLAzFCBopZBT8qUmJLnUqsT8dQgc-AotNGa1ggvDKFuDXDicM17KcljC1XhmnGbbni96TsYOWe6bzrAjq2Cg/s320/we_will_remember_dewey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384457365783230674" /></a><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Year-Wonders-Geraldine-Brooks/dp/0142001430"><strong><em>Year of Wonders</em></strong></a> is the second book I've read for the year-long <strong>Dewey Reading Challenge</strong>. Good thing for me that there are only six books on this challenge. I noticed that most of the avid readers who signed up for this had read their allotment by March.<br /><br />The books I read for myself have a habit of getting bumped regularly by new releases which my incredibly-talented friends have written - books I like to review as close to their release date as possible, so I can spread the word. I finished reading <strong><em>Year of Wonders</em></strong> a few weeks ago, but I had three books to review that were hot off the presses first. <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - <strong><em>Year of Wonders</em></strong> is a <a href="http://us.penguingroup.com/static/pages/publishers/adult/penguin.html">Penguin Books</a> release. This debut novel for journalist Brooks became an international bestseller. Not a bad way to switch careers...<br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - The full title is actually <strong><em>Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague</em></strong>. Call me crazy, but that's the thing that grabbed me and made me special order it at the smaller bookstore near my office. I've been able to buy three of the six challenge books off the shelf at the large Chapters, but both of the Geraldine Brooks were special orders because I couldn't wait until I might be able to get to Chapters. I started my challenge with Brooks' <a href="http://www.amazon.com/March-Geraldine-Brooks/dp/0143036661"><strong><em>March</em></strong></a> - you can <a href="http://juliasbookreviews.blogspot.com/2009/05/thursday-thirteen-107-13-reasons-to.html">read my review HERE</a> - and I immediately plunged into <strong><em>Year of Wonders</em></strong>. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - We meet Anna Frith of Derbyshire, England, daughter of a brutish laborer, young widow of a miner and mother to two young sons. She works as a part-time servant at the manor house and takes in a boarder at her cottage to make ends meet. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - Michael Mompellion is the married rector of Anna's village. Young and charismatic, he sweeps his congregation up with the intensity of his gaze and seduces them with the magic of his voice. He rides his powerful stallion Anteros and ministers to his flock with large hands more like a working man's than a cleric's. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - The novel jumps back and forth through time. We meet Anna as she keeps house for Mr. Mompellion, in the desperate hush following their year of beating back the plague. Then it flashbacks to the time just preceding the arrival of the decimating disease. Eventually we catch up to the moment of the novel's beginning, where we then move beyond to the conclusion. It's an intriguing way to present the novel, as we assume that how we find the characters at the beginning is the way the novel will end.<br /><br />But there is more. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - Sexual tension flares between Anna and the rector. Although he is passionately married to Elinor Mompellion, the attraction between him and Anna runs throughout all the horror of the plague year. Anna, Elinor and Michael create a love triangle of the most original kind. Anna idolizes Elinor, who teaches her to read and how to use plants to heal. But Anna doesn't realize until much later that part of her kinship with Elinor is her unconscious desire to be Elinor - because Elinor is Michael's wife. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - The story is told entirely through Anna's first-person voice. But this is not merely her story. <em>A Novel of the Plague</em> is a perfect indicator of the scope of this tale. We get to know an entire village and suffer along with each individual as the impossible decision is made. By shutting themselves off from the world, they heroically attempt to contain the plague. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - Geraldine Brooks' training as a journalist serves the villagers well. Multiple viewpoints and varied reactions to the collective decision are presented through Anna's eyes. Though we know Anna and her stalwart character, we still get vivid depictions of other people who aren't so brave, aren't so sure, who react to the horror in monstrous ways.<br /><br />There are lots of gruesome images in this book - fair warning to the squeamish. But I found every part of it fascinating, compelling and so very heartrending. There were many times that I had started to read it on the bus, but had to tuck it back into my purse or else sit there crying. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Ms. Brooks really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"When the Mompellions came to where I stood, Elinor Mompellion held out both her hands and took mine tenderly as the rector spoke to me. 'And you, Anna?' he said. The intensity of his gaze was such that I had to look away from him. 'Tell us you will stay with us, for without you, Mrs. Mompellion and I would be ill set. Indeed, I do not know what we would do without you.' There was no turmoil within me, for I had made my decision. Still, I could not command my voice to give him a reply. When I nodded, Elinor Mompellion embraced me and held me to her for a long moment. The rector moved on, whispering quietly to Mary Hadfield, who was weeping and wringing her hands most piteously. By the time he mounted the steps again and faced us, he and Mr. Stanley between them had shored up every doubter. All of us in the church that day gave their oath to God that we would stay, and not flee, whatever might befall us.<br /><br />All of us, that is, except the Bradfords. They had slipped out of the church unnoticed and were already at the Hall, packing for their flight to Oxford."</em><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpfi-KHweYKLsqFAEUuXnP-XJyVDI9-jFh5HQWas4n2BjOokOCmPK5QOkOWo3iuAhXuJr7izgvYQt3tr_EDRHivcDlOtbJZ012mSTwRAGAFv2BFWwe7IKCjzck5k8l15hJR_Y0lemOTA/s1600-h/amarilla.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 177px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpfi-KHweYKLsqFAEUuXnP-XJyVDI9-jFh5HQWas4n2BjOokOCmPK5QOkOWo3iuAhXuJr7izgvYQt3tr_EDRHivcDlOtbJZ012mSTwRAGAFv2BFWwe7IKCjzck5k8l15hJR_Y0lemOTA/s320/amarilla.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384846270299861362" /></a><br /><strong>11</strong> - The woman's face on the cover of the book couldn't be more perfect. Taken from a painting by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederic_Leighton,_1st_Baron_Leighton">Frederic Leighton</a> - <em>Amarilla</em> - this depiction of Anna's endurance through all her suffering is exquisitely perfect. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - There are so many vivid images and scenes from this book that will always stay with me. First published eight years ago, I couldn't imagine why it hadn't been optioned to be filmed. Actually, to do it justice, it would have to be a miniseries - hopefully on HBO so the grisly aspects wouldn't be lost.<br /><br />Now with the H1N1 virus making the rounds, wouldn't this be a perfect production for our times? <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Mr. Mompellion laid his large hand tenderly upon Jakob Merrill's face. 'Hush now.' His voice was low and even. 'Do not dwell any more on things in the past that you cannot change. When God took your wife to Him, He crowned Maude Merrill with a crown of righteousness. He freed her from all toil and tiredness. God has already made provision for your children. Did he not send young Brand to you, and did you not take him in to your home in his need? Do you not see God's hand at work there?'<br /><br />Jakob Merrill's hand tightened on the rector's, and his brow unknotted. He asked the rector then to help him make a last will to bind such an arrangement.<br /><br />It was not for me to be reading Jakob Merrill's private will, and I doubt that Mr. Mompellion would have given it to me if he had known that I could read at all. Indeed, I did not propose to read the words; it was only that my eyes could not prevent me as I blotted the document and set it in the tin box that Merrill had pointed to. I warmed the child some caudle, instructed her how to complete the stew I had begun, and set out with the rector.<br /><br />Elinor met us, her face creased with concern. Two more bodies awaited their graves. Mr. Mompellion sighed and shrugged off his coat. He did not wait even for some nourishment but went straight to the churchyard.<br /><br />I let go my pride then, and took my courage into my hands instead. Without telling Elinor what I proposed, I trudged out to my father's croft, hoping that the day was young enough to find him sober still.<br /><br />I noticed that Steven, their eldest boy, had an angry welt across his cheek, and I did not need to ask how it had come there. I carried some of the herbs we had been preparing and showed Aphra how to make them up into the tonic that Elinor and I had devised.<br /><br />Speaking with a respectful deference that I did not feel, I explained the plight at the rectory, and, flattering my father about his great strength and fortitude, beseeched his help. As I had expected, he cursed and said he had more than enough work to lay his hand to, and that it would do my 'prating priest' a power of good to get his white hands dirty. So I offered him his choice of my lambs for that Sunday's dinner and another at the new moon. These were generous terms, and though my father cursed and haggled and thumped the table till the platters rattled, he and I eventually came to an agreement. And so I bought Mr. Mompellion a respite from the graveyard. At least, I told myself, my father's clemmed children might get a portion of the meat."</em><br /><br />- Geraldine Brooks, 2001Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-21906342126862872462009-09-16T05:40:00.000-07:002009-09-18T17:41:35.689-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 124 - 13 Reasons to Read The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker by Leanna Renee Hieber<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlB-ef1lPV6-yzOeCaws8qsaLN8EPKjH7I86Zl5hp2xkFB0AnHD2yrh4f2GzJILEEujzsV1NaIIinFMbPfhLGwOn3atzsGG-zbFYDvzxdgmMick6guJlLrv4dmaWXegU3NdTh0LEXUX5o/s1600-h/strangely_beautiful.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlB-ef1lPV6-yzOeCaws8qsaLN8EPKjH7I86Zl5hp2xkFB0AnHD2yrh4f2GzJILEEujzsV1NaIIinFMbPfhLGwOn3atzsGG-zbFYDvzxdgmMick6guJlLrv4dmaWXegU3NdTh0LEXUX5o/s320/strangely_beautiful.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382248806697951554" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.leannareneehieber.com/about-1/">Leanna Renee Hieber</a> is a fellow blogger over at <a href="http://www.popculturedivas.com/">Popculturedivas</a>. As she got set for that magical Release Day for her debut novel, I confess I was looking forward to it nearly as impatiently.<br /><br />Alright, perhaps not quite as much as Leanna must have been. <br /><br />But I couldn't <em>wait</em> to get my hands on a copy. And as it turned out, Leanna embarked upon a mammoth promotional blog tour called the <a href="http://www.leannareneehieber.com/haunted-london-blog-tour-book-giveaway/"><strong>Haunted London Blog Tour</strong></a>, with loads of opportunity to win a copy of her book. <br /><br />You guessed it - I received my autographed copy in the mail along with a cool little button that says <em>Strangely Beautiful</em>. Yay me!<br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - Treat yourself to this lovely book trailer -<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AFclwoZGhtY&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AFclwoZGhtY&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - Now, about that <a href="http://www.leannareneehieber.com/haunted-london-blog-tour-book-giveaway/"><strong>Haunted London Blog Tour</strong></a>. With 14 stops, Leanna linked her tour with posts about real London haunted spaces. Included are the totally freaky <a href="http://smexybooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/strangely-beautiful-haunted-london-blog.html">Black Dog</a> of the infamous Newgate Prison; Jack the Ripper victim <a href="http://kbgbabbles.blogspot.com/2009/08/strangely-beautiful-haunted-london-blog.html">Annie Chapman's haunting</a> of a brewery boardroom which now stands on the site of her murder; and playwright Oliver Goldsmith's <a href="http://historyhoydens.blogspot.com/2009/09/leannas-haunted-london-blog-tour.html">pesky disembodied head</a> hauntings.<br /><br />I was completely impressed with Leanna's blog tour. Carrying the theme along from blog to blog kept me coming back for more. <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - Leanna is a co-founder of <a href="http://www.ladyjanesalon.com/"><strong>Lady Jane's Salon</strong></a>, <em>"Manhattan’s first reading series devoted to romance fiction. Join them on the first Monday of every month at <a href="http://www.madamexnyc.com/m3/directions.html">Madame X</a> in Manhattan to hear your favorite authors read from their latest works."</em><br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - Before publishing her first novel, Leanna wrote one-act plays and a fantasy novella, <a href="http://www.crescentmoonpress.com/books/DarkNest.html"><em>Dark Nest</em></a>. She's also a stage and television actress.<br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - <strong><em>The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker</em></strong> is a <a href="http://www.dorchesterpub.com/Dorch/productdetail.cfm?product_ID=2445&L1=2">Leisure</a> Historical Fantasy, an imprint of Dorchester Publishing's Romance category.<br /><br />I've also seen it described as a Gothic Victorian paranormal, and a YA novel. All of the above categories would fit this unique story.<br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - We meet albino-pale Percy Parker as she enters the Athens Academy at the advanced age of eighteen. A convent-educated orphan, Percy is especially sensitive to the stares of others when they encounter her. She has the looks of a ghost made flesh, with an ability to see and hear the actual ghosts that stream to and fro unnoticed by most other Londoners. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - Professor Alexi Rychman is a dark, melancholic leader of a group of gifted men and women known as The Guard. They stand between the living and the dead, ensuring Darkness doesn't engulf the world. It's Alexi's longing-filled lot in life to await a lover fated to be the woman foretold by a vision, when The Guard were first assembled as children. Not only must he be absolutely certain she's the one - if The Guard guesses wrong, the universe as they know it will be forever breached by Darkness. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - Although marketed as a <strong>Leisure Romance</strong>, the love story goes at its own pace and remains highly Victorian in tone. The romance plays out on an almost purely emotional level. Definitely suited to a YA reader. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - Besides the developing relationship between the professor and Percy, the other five who make up The Guard are featured prominently, as well as various ghostly characters and otherwordly beings. This is a world well-populated and teeming with Gothic atmosphere. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Leanna really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Alexi, exhausted, took one final moment to contemplate an alternate history where he might have become a renowned scientist instead of an academic who chased ghosts. But The Grand Work had its own agenda, and his mortal desires were in no way considered. Prophecy suggested, of course, that someday his empty heart would be warmed and refreshed, but until he could be sure, until</em> she <em>came forward and his divine goddess could again speak to him, everything, including Alexi, was holding its breath - and choking on it. A little girl on Fleet Street might be safe for the moment, but the rest of London was not.<br /><br />Still...she was coming, wasn't she? She'd best show herself before the last of his hope died and he didn't recognize her at all."</em> <br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - There are many instances of visions and dreams in this story. Leanna has a gift for turning these moments into cinematic flashes that are just as haunting for the reader as for Percy. Here's a taste:<br /><br /><em>"A wind swept the room, scattering papers and whipping his black hair across his forehead. Halos of fire surrounded Alexi's outstretched hands, crackling to be released.<br /><br />The abomination leaned back on pulsing haunches and tilted a vague head, knowing that it had been commanded. Fire burst from Alexi's fingertips, and it yelped and retreated. Then, in a burst of frantic barking, the form shifted into a hundred doglike forms that disappeared like roaches from light, snorting as they vanished through the walls. Only barking lingered in the air."</em> <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - As an actress and playwright, Leanna truly has an ear for wonderful dialogue. The mannered banter of her Victorian setting is ever so exquisite, and most certainly is never modernized with out-of-place turns of phrase. Standing ovation from me, Leanna!<br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Miss Parker's elegant dress and elaborate coif were stunning. Her fine features had been painted with the softest rose blush, and her pale eyes flashed like diamonds. She was by far the most captivating thing ever seen at this silly event. He noted her talking to various young ladies who drifted past, strained into saying something polite. She was gracious and returned their trivial, polite conversation, but when she occasionally glanced away, he read her struggle and isolation. She alone, he was sure, understood why he dreaded this event every year. Such recognition was profound.<br /><br />An enraptured young couple twirled past. As they did, they waved. Percy returned the gesture happily, then watched them twirl away, her warm smile fading. Something seized up deep inside Alexi. Perhaps she felt the weight of his stare, for she looked up. Eyes like snowcaps finally met his, and the rest of the world was muted.<br /><br />'There you are - my favorite gargoyle!' came a taunting voice.<br /><br />Alexi turned and saw Elijah Withersby leading a woman through one of the arched entrances and into the ballroom. Miss Linden. Having only seen her briefly, in the moonlight, Alexi was unprepared for what a well-lit room would do for her beauty. It was unparalleled.<br /><br />'Here's the man of the hour at last.' Elijah removed the woman's hand from his arm and offered it to Alexi. 'Professor Rychman, here again is our dear Miss Lucille Linden.'<br /><br />Alexi kissed the woman's gloved hand with solemn courtesy. 'A pleasure to see you, Miss Linden. I am sorry it has taken so long for our paths to again cross.'<br /><br />'The pleasure is entirely mine, Professor Rychman. Lord Withersby has been kind, as has Miss Belledoux. I am forever in your debt. It is difficult to be a stranger in such a large place, and to feel safe when the world is coming apart at the seams...'<br /><br />She possessed a magnetic intensity Alexi had never encountered. But then, just over the woman's perfect, bare shoulder, Alexi regarded the opal eyes of Miss Parker looking on in stricken sorrow. Her pale, heather-framed face quickly rallied into a hollow smile, and she tried to pretend she hadn't been staring. But eyes like hers could truly hide nothing; and when the music slowed, the couples parted and still no one came to speak with her, Percy rose from her chair and fled the room.<br /><br />'Professor Rychman?' called a musical voice, jarring him from his reverie. 'Are you all right?'<br /><br />Alexi faced Miss Linden. 'My apologies. Something caught my eye.'<br /><br />'Ah, we interrupt his chaperoning, Miss Linden,' Elijah taunted.<br /><br />Alexi looked sharply at his friend, but Miss Linden smiled and he felt her smooth gloved hand graze his. 'I admire gravity in a man.'<br /><br />'If you wouldn't mind, Miss Linden...I am terribly sorry. It was a true pleasure to see you, but I must beg your leave. I believe someone requires my assistance. A student,' he added, staring at Withersby."</em><br /><br />- Leanna Renee Hieber, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-24506825304870970512009-09-09T20:11:00.000-07:002009-09-13T20:12:49.819-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 123 - 13 Reasons to Read the In David's House Collection by Jennifer LeelandRecently in the RWR, or <em>Romance Writers Report</em> - a romance industry journal available to members of Romance Writers of America - an article by <a href="http://www.courtneymilan.com/">Courtney Milan</a> cautioned bloggers to think twice when holding contests on their blogs. Something to do with legal woes, I believe. She did point out that when the prize's value is under $10.00, there's not such an urgency to investigate. And since most of the contests I've come across are for copies of the author's latest release, that pretty much covers the blog contests in which I've taken part.<br /><br />And since today's e-book collection came to me through a contest, I just want to thank <a href="http://www.jenniferleeland.com/about/"><strong>Jennifer Leeland</strong></a> for holding it and to all the authors whose books I've been so lucky to read after winning them. Please, writers - keep holding your contests! Heck, I've had two contests myself on behalf of my cousin. They're so much fun! I'm glad they can still be classified as promotional expense and most bloggers will never have to worry about the legalities of giving away prizes like a plasma TV. <br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <strong><em>In David's House</em></strong> is a three-novella erotica collection from <a href="http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php">Wilder Rose Press</a>. At this point the three stories must be purchased separately, but I won them as a collection, and read them as one connected story. The connecting thread is BDSM dom David, whose handpicked guests arrive to sort out their sexual and romantic lives within the safety of his home.<br /><br />I would love to see this collection packaged as one volume. <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - Part of <a href="http://www.thewildrosepress.com/">Wild Rose Press</a>'s <strong>Scarlet Rose</strong> erotica imprint, Jennifer's story is contemporary adult erotica using frank language and BDSM situations. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidXE4ERG2u7eV6bbzlnPLgC4g-yRQLvqozylnffVsKLn8LDcIhheevAOmNPvMtE1fvs1BgEVhtg2B4SLLulUFY5YCG2gC4bmhEAcxe47ol-N7bhy4DZUjtVFHOdjYNSfXG8dZO2ADPJ58/s1600-h/mask_she_wears.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidXE4ERG2u7eV6bbzlnPLgC4g-yRQLvqozylnffVsKLn8LDcIhheevAOmNPvMtE1fvs1BgEVhtg2B4SLLulUFY5YCG2gC4bmhEAcxe47ol-N7bhy4DZUjtVFHOdjYNSfXG8dZO2ADPJ58/s320/mask_she_wears.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379659125429135090" /></a><br /><strong>3</strong> - The first story is <a href="http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=87&products_id=605">The Mask She Wears</a>. We meet Catherine, a court reporter who meets a too-dreamy-for-her lawyer at a cafe she frequents. Too bad she needs a bondage mask in order to reach sexual release. The charming lawyer is exactly the kind of guy with whom she'd never share that side of her.<br /><br />Justin could swear he recognizes Catherine from somewhere - and definitely not the court room. Could this shy, reserved woman have been at one of David's parties? He can't wait until the next one, to see if his instincts about her are correct.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedyxatq4FC__Iy507pO0V9DL8dUgnrgrZx6QBZSg_QG1vv40zsBtZMzhxp_kDyH4CfVuhvc2dq6HQ7x3l764qCWTPGNV-0IpUqEx0bjlr6A4GPe6P8Ox7U4VcxsFdDTg5dYn_JXz4dME/s1600-h/secrets_she_keeps.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedyxatq4FC__Iy507pO0V9DL8dUgnrgrZx6QBZSg_QG1vv40zsBtZMzhxp_kDyH4CfVuhvc2dq6HQ7x3l764qCWTPGNV-0IpUqEx0bjlr6A4GPe6P8Ox7U4VcxsFdDTg5dYn_JXz4dME/s320/secrets_she_keeps.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379660382008370946" /></a><br /><strong>4</strong> - The second story is <a href="http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=87&products_id=650">The Secret She Keeps</a>. We meet Tessa, already involved with Zac and happy with nearly everything about him. If only he would be a little rougher when they had sex. She's never been at ease with her own longings, to which she self-refers as deviant. All of her former relationships had been doomed to failure when her boyfriends realized they could never bring her to orgasm. But she'd never been able to speak aloud the dark fantasies which gave her true release.<br /><br />Zac breaks things off with Tessa when it's clear their sex life sucks. He'd tried hard to embrace a vanilla life for her, but he needs to dominate and she wasn't the sort at all to submit to that sort of sexual expression. She wore a Wonder Woman costume to a party, for heaven's sake. But a heart-to-heart with David convinces him that it's worth a second chance to see if this woman can take the real him. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvHg6mMPf-wKNd42Qf02st7lpXdgENwtZRXeHa3ZA9O_N7WsXeHzE20io341mqi3YMnXAtFvHUU4v2gpxDrf1u-Bz9biytgJB0q_dudgzQdJ2eWXUr0hzxxQ2NO7REfgLwaLG7jcYjV0/s1600-h/trust_she_yields.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvHg6mMPf-wKNd42Qf02st7lpXdgENwtZRXeHa3ZA9O_N7WsXeHzE20io341mqi3YMnXAtFvHUU4v2gpxDrf1u-Bz9biytgJB0q_dudgzQdJ2eWXUr0hzxxQ2NO7REfgLwaLG7jcYjV0/s320/trust_she_yields.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379660850527047794" /></a><br /><strong>5</strong> - The third story is <a href="http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=142&products_id=716">The Trust She Yields</a>. We meet Lee, a medical secretary at a fast-paced office. But no matter how quickly the workday flies by, no matter that she moved to another state, the memories of her previous relationship haunt every moment of her day. She was once the submissive to a well-respected dom, but what no one knew was how the man who imposed rules for others in their lifestyle refused to abide by them in his own relationship with Lee.<br /><br />David has helped countless others to realize their own sexual beings. As a dom who opens his home to others who need a safe haven, David's generosity and wisdom is legendary. The only thing missing in all of this - for all the couples he has helped to find one another, there's been no one for David himself. Until he spies Lee in a vanilla-world bar and they recognize that thing about each other. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - The recurring theme in this collection is learning to accept oneself. Fighting against or denying their sexual natures has led to disaster for everyone involved. Jennifer brings out the dark moment/inner confrontation within each character with great depth, considering she's writing in a short novella format.<br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - I really, really love the power plays between the characters in all three stories. All romantic partnerships have a power play to them. BDSM couples are more up-front with this aspect. The danger with erotica is setting the true allure of power aside with the freedom to write sex scenes with truly frank language. Jennifer keeps the power dynamic front and center at all times.<br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - The rise of erotica as a major player in romantic fiction is something I'm ecstatic to see. When you consider that only three generations ago, women could not present themselves as sexual beings unless they wanted to be labelled tramps and whores, the current erotica industry is nothing short of miraculous.<br /><br />The subsequent splitting of erotica into subgenres such as BDSM and <em>menage a trois</em> corresponds with some of the most common female fantasies compiled by researcher <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nancy_Friday">Nancy Friday</a> in her studies of female sexuality.<br /><br />In today's world, it's not really PC to be female and admit a desire to be dominated. For women who have it all and do it all, sometimes the greatest relief is to lay down that control to a lover. Ironically, this same desire was traditionally the preserve of high-profile men such as political figures, professionals and CEO's.<br /><br />Jennifer tackles these issues in this collection. For the men as well, especially Zac from <strong><em>The Secret She Keeps</em></strong>, the desire to be a sensitive and caring partner is at war with these character's inner drive to dominate. Through BDSM, they can have both. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - The movement within the stories towards David's own struggle in <strong><em>The Trust She Yields</em></strong> reminded me of one of my truly favorite historical romance series by Jo Beverley - the Malloren series. The eldest brother/patriarch of that noble family makes his delicious presence known in four books before he took center stage in his own. That's one of my favorite books - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ISBN=0451199979/jobeverleyA/"><em>Devilish</em></a>. It always makes its way onto my list of favorites, and <strong><em>The Trust She Yields</em></strong> had the same build-up/pay-off for me. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Jennifer really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example, from <strong><em>The Mask She Wears</em></strong>:<br /><br /><em>"She wanted him to possess her. This lover was connecting with her through the mask, the restraints, through her self-imposed limits. He was shattering her barriers.<br /><br />Instead of completing the act and ending the encounter, he slowed the pace again. His touch softened. The heat from his skin burned her nerve endings as she teetered on the edge of another orgasm. She arched, and the restraints bit into her wrists and ankles.<br /><br />For the first time, she wanted the mask off. She wanted to know this man, connect with him. <br /><br />Never before, in the few anonymous encounters she had allowed herself, had she felt this intense need to strip away the tools that protected her from emotional risk.<br /><br />Then he eased away, and his warmth, his touch was gone, and a silent scream echoed in the dark corners of her mind."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - I'm keeping the truly sizzling aspects out of the excerpts here, but believe me - the exquisite hotness made my knees weak.<br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Jennifer has all three couples return in <strong><em>The Trust She Yields</em></strong>, which is a very nice full-circle for the collection. The last novella is longer and has room for a few scenes where Catherine & Justin and Tessa & Zac come to bat for Lee & David.<br /><br />David is a smoldering presence in all of their stories. Their esteem for him is touching when the man who has helped all of them with their sexual healing can use a friend.<br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt, from <strong><em>The Trust She Yields</em></strong>. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"A month ago he’d been here, just like tonight, alone and relaxed. She’d glanced his way several times and noted the way he stared at her, his expression hungry. She’d ignored him, put distance between them, but he only gave her a knowing smile. They never spoke, yet, they had communicated a wealth of information.<br /><br />Every Friday night she berated herself for coming back to BC’s, the downtown bar where the clientele was a little older without being snooty. However, here she sat, drinking Crown Royal and Coke in small amounts as she enjoyed the music.<br /><br />Lee caught her reflection in the bar mirror. Dark, curly black hair tumbled over her shoulders in an unruly mess. Her makeup was understated, almost boring, but it brought out the gold in her hazel eyes. Tonight she wore a burgundy blouse and a black mini skirt with her thigh-high leather boots. The boots added about three inches to her solid five-six frame, and she liked the appearance of control they gave her.<br /><br />It was all a lie.<br /><br />Deep down, Lee wanted to lose control, hand it over, be completely controlled by another. If only she could stamp out the need to submit to another person in the bedroom, her life would be simpler. Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t let them fall. Her makeup would run.<br /><br />'May I buy you another drink?' Her gaze jerked to the man standing next to her. It was</em> him. <em>Stumbling off the bar stool, she backed away. 'I—no. Please, I—'<br /><br />Fear closed Lee’s throat as she whirled toward the door. The room suffocated her. She had to get out. Had to get away. She burst through the door and sprinted for her car.<br /><br />She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t allow another dominant to control her. All that was over.<br /><br />****<br /><br />David Peters frowned as the woman careened out the door. Obviously, she was frightened. Not of men, but of him in particular. As a man who was known for his charm, David wasn’t used to terrifying women. Well, not unless they needed it.<br /><br />The bartender picked up her glass. 'She wasn’t interested, huh?'<br /><br />'It was much more than that,' David said, more to himself than the man behind the bar. 'She knew exactly what I was, and it scared her.'<br /><br />'She’s new in town. From Las Vegas, so I understand.' Jack wiped the counter and smirked. 'It’s nice to see one who doesn’t fall in line for you.'<br /><br />David glared at the bartender. 'So glad I could entertain you.'<br /><br />'It’s not often I get to see you strike out, Peters. Let me enjoy it.'<br /><br />'It’s not often I run into fear like that.' He threw some money on the bar. 'I’ll see her again. You’ll see. She needs me.'<br /><br />The bartender shook his head. 'You’ve got the biggest ego I’ve ever seen.'<br /><br />David snorted. 'I doubt that.' He sighed as he always did when trying to explain things to vanilla people. 'It’s not ego. She does need me or someone like me.' He stared at the door as if willing her to come back through it. He’d have to wait a whole week to see her again. That bothered him. Annoyed him.<br /><br />Worried him.<br /><br />He shoved the thought away. Of course, he wasn’t worried about a woman he didn’t even know. How could he be? She was just another soul who needed the one thing he offered. Sanctuary.<br /><br />'Well, good luck.' The bartender’s smile grew faint. 'That lady has baggage.'<br /><br />'Don’t we all,' David said softly. 'Don’t we all.' "</em><br /><br />- Jennifer Leeland, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-84623885707560192332009-09-03T11:08:00.000-07:002009-09-06T11:11:16.009-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 122 - 13 Reasons to Read Wicked Little Game by Christine Wells<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqD1vwj0STQmF67UYKsRZHhSxljbBM9e-KYjyiJ2OtAkVkj2t1ukjUSUKMxH6uFmQs_UCbnX00uK0PEXDMFy_PINKlP1QpDbOYKdqfiXl1DdWrL0NNpfXYA90uUwGBDhqfziiVmNWO68/s1600-h/wicked_little_game.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqD1vwj0STQmF67UYKsRZHhSxljbBM9e-KYjyiJ2OtAkVkj2t1ukjUSUKMxH6uFmQs_UCbnX00uK0PEXDMFy_PINKlP1QpDbOYKdqfiXl1DdWrL0NNpfXYA90uUwGBDhqfziiVmNWO68/s320/wicked_little_game.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376672224525853138" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I met Christine Wells when I became a contributor to a group blog called <strong>missmakeamovie</strong>. Our blog was relaunched as <a href="http://www.popculturedivas.com/"><strong>Popculturedivas</strong></a>, and I've struck up a friendship with Christine as she keeps writing about things we share:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.popculturedivas.com/2009/06/do-you-glom.html">Glomming Richard Armitage</a> - it's research!<br /><a href="http://missmakeamovie.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-beachy-christmas-aussie-style.html">Hugh Jackman</a> - it's research!<br /><a href="http://missmakeamovie.blogspot.com/2008/08/dangerous-people.html">Spooks/MI-5</a><br /><a href="http://www.popculturedivas.com/2009/07/anti-hero.html">The Anti-Hero</a><br /><a href="http://www.popculturedivas.com/2009/08/infamous-lines.html"><em>'Don't mention the war'</em></a><br /><a href="http://romancebandits.blogspot.com/2009/08/another-stupid-love-songwell-ten-more.html">Her music playlist when she writes</a> - from her very popular group blog, <strong>Romance Bandits</strong><br /><a href="http://missmakeamovie.blogspot.com/2009/01/seriesseriously.html">A love of book series and film series</a><br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - Christine's latest release is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wicked-Little-Game-Berkley-Sensation/dp/0425228487/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1251992672&sr=1-1"><strong><em>Wicked Little Game</em></strong></a>.<br /><br />It's a <a href="http://berkleyjoveauthors.com/author273">Berkley Sensation</a> imprint from <a href="http://www.penguin.ca/static/pages/aboutpenguin/publishers/berkley.html">Penguin</a>'s <strong>Berkley Jove</strong> romance division, which focuses on mass-market paperbacks. <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - Christine continues her professional association with cover artist <a href="http://paintlayers.blogspot.com/">Jim Griffin</a>. I think his work is just delicious. <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - <strong><em>Wicked Little Game</em></strong> takes us to the high-stakes world of Regency London. What lurks behind the reputations of those in the <em>ton</em>? How far will the elite go to preserve those reputations - deserved or not? When governments can fall if a scandal's bad enough, those in the game can move the play to lethal levels. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - Christine has done something in her last two books that conventional wisdom says is a no-no for romance.<br /><br />You can see the immediate draw for me there.<br /><br />The heroine of <strong><em>The Dangerous Duke</em></strong> is a widow (<em>heaven's no - readers don't want a story about a widow</em>.) The heroine of <strong><em>Wicked Little Game</em></strong> isn't even a widow - she's currently married to a man who is not the hero of the book (<em>the horror!</em>)<br /><br />High-intensity stress levels for the characters and a halt-everything-else-except-reading hook for the reader - what's not to love? <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - <strong>Lady Sarah Cole</strong> married young to a man whom she was certain she loved deeply, and who appeared to adore her in return. Ten years later, she makes perfumes which she secretly sells to an apothecary to make ends meet. Her husband has become a wastrel, living beyond his means while Sarah keeps their household in barely-respectable rooms let from a landlady with whom her husband flirts to postpone rent payment. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - The <strong>Marquis of Vane</strong> has held a torch for the enigmatic Lady Sarah for years. Rebuffed when he once made an offer for an extra-marital arrangement between them, Vane intercedes despite his anticipated frosty reception - when her scoundrel of a husband sets a price on one night with his wife. For ten thousand pounds. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - The sexual tension coils through every scene. Lady Sarah herself has been attracted to Vane for some time when the story begins. In their rarified world, they were bound to encounter one another. Their history holds a sword over their every meeting. But Lady Sarah battles against her husband's bold infidelities by refusing to join in that sordid game. She's too proud to admit to anyone that her youthful decision to marry Brinsley Cole was a life-altering mistake. And she proudly refuses to engage in retaliatory affairs. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - I have a great affection for Lady Sarah. Her overriding character flaw - Pride with a capital 'P' - is a flaw with which I closely indentify. Oh, so closely. Her valiant attempts to hold onto her shredded self-respect are heartbreaking. I related to her like I haven't related to any other fictional female character so far.<br /><br />If I say that the final scene in <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoTa-b7cUw0"><em>Turandot</em></a>, a Puccini opera, where the unwinnable princess discovers that the hero has finally touched her armoured heart, leaves me in tears of recognition and reminds me of Lady Sarah, perhaps you'll understand my affection.<br /><br />And if I say that the final pas de deux from John Cranko's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oRZgxZGU34&feature=PlayList&p=777E80D3A4AB246A&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=49"><em>The Taming of the Shrew</em> ballet</a> leaves me in the same state, then you'll definitely understand my affection. The ballet's heroine reminds me of Lady Sarah as she stops fighting the man who loves her and surrenders to her true feelings. It's filled with intricate trust moves and lifts that allow her to soar (and extremely difficult for the male dancer!) <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - Now - let's get to Vane.<br /><br />He's an historical romance hero as he was meant to be experienced.<br /><br />But don't take my word for it. Here's what a few Amazon readers had to say about him:<br /><br /><em>"Vane - loved him!!! So, so, so sexy. He was the epitome of a hero! Very in control of his emotions - except when it comes to the heroine. With her, he falls to pieces. I LOVE it when the heroine holds the ability to bring such a powerful man to his knees."</em> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/ATB00UCDGAVIO/ref=cm_cr_dp_pdp">Barbara</a>, New York, USA<br /><br /><em>"Vane....wow. He is an amazing hero. A lesser man than Vane would have given up on Sarah. She was so hard, so callous and so adept at keeping her icy cold mask in place. But Vane understood her core. He knew what she was protecting and he was determined to break through all her walls."</em> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A3TR6DRQ935DIQ/ref=cm_cr_dp_pdp">VampFanGirl</a>, San Diego, CA <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Christine really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"He couldn't save her from Brinsley's loathsome schemes. He'd tried. She'd spurned him with her cold, cruel smile. But what if the villain took this offer to another man with fewer scruples than Vane? What then?<br /><br />'I ought to kill you, Cole.' Vane kept his voice low, aware that a party of men had left Crockford's and headed their way. 'Exterminate you like the vermin you are.'<br /><br />Brinsley didn't even blink. 'Ah, but I'm well acquainted with your sort, my lord. I know you will not kill a man without a fair fight.' He fingered his bruised throat, then shrugged. 'Call me out if you wish to see Sarah's name dragged through the mud. I won't meet you.'<br /><br />His expression darkened. 'I married that little bitch, my lord marquis. Short of bloody murder, I can treat her however I damned well pleased. So think well before you threaten me, sir, or your sweet Lady Sarah might suffer the consequences.'<br /><br />Blind rage, all the more dangerous for its impotence, threatened to overwhelm every principal Vane held dear. He faced Brinsley in the darkness, panting with the effort of keeping his hands by his sides instead of wrapping them around the bastard's throat. This time, he wouldn't have the strength to let go.<br /><br />He'd never killed a man before...<br /><br />Their misted breath clashed and roiled upward. The moonlight glinted off wet cobbles, threw Brinsley's profile into high relief. The thoughtful poet's brow that hid a conniving, low mind, the noble nose that sniffed out weakness and despair, the sculpted lips that now curled in a self-satisfied sneer.<br /><br />Damn him to hell. Brinsley knew he had won."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - There is so much going on in <strong><em>Wicked Little Game</em></strong> that it was a bit of a challenge to find excerpts that wouldn't contain spoilers. Be assured that Christine's previous inclination to include spies, political intrigue, suspense and a healthy dose of edge-of-your-seat action is in full array here. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - I reviewed Christine's previous book, <strong><em>The Dangerous Duke</em></strong> last December. Check out <a href="http://juliasbookreviews.blogspot.com/2008/12/thursday-thirteen-85-13-reasons-to-read.html">my review HERE.</a><br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"A large hand gripped her elbow, stopping her. She gasped and swung around, to see the hackney driver's reddening face.<br /><br />She swallowed hard. 'Let go of me. I told you, I'll only be a minute.'<br /><br />'Where've I 'eard that before?' scoffed the driver. His hold tightened. 'I'll 'ave my money first, ma'am,</em> if <em>you please.'<br /><br />Before Sarah could answer, there was a blur of movement and a dull crack. The driver dropped Sarah's elbow with a grunt of pain, cradling his wrist. Sarah's gaze snapped upward. Standing between them, looking down at her with those deep, dark eyes was the Marquis of Vane.<br /><br />'Did he hurt you?' He made as if to take her arm to inspect the damage for himself, but she stepped back, evading his frowning scrutiny. <br /><br />She shook her head, insides clenching, heart knocking against her ribs. There didn't seem enough air in the world to breathe. 'A - a misunderstanding, merely. You are very good, but please don't - '<br /><br />Vane lowered the cane he'd used to break the man's hold and switched his glare to the driver. 'If you don't wish to feel this stick across your back, make yourself scarce.'<br /><br />The jarvey was a thickset man, but Vane towered over him, all broad chest and big shoulders and pure, masculine power. The driver blenched a little, but he retained enough spirit to mount a case in his defense.<br /><br />Vane didn't appear to listen, but nor did he stem the flow. Of all the men in the world who might have come upon her in this predicament, why did it have to be Vane?<br /><br />His swift glance held a gleam of curiosity. She lifted her chin with proud distain. The marquis gave no sign he believed the driver's story, but when Sarah said nothing to contradict it, he flicked a coin to the jarvey and dismissed him with a nod. <br /><br />Vane turned to her. 'Come, I'll escort you home.'<br /><br />His low, resonant tone stroked down her spine in a warm, velvet caress. A shocking wave of heat rolled through her body, left her trembling from head to toe. 'That won't be necessary, thank you,' she managed. 'It is but a step.' She gripped her hands together. 'I haven't the funds with me, I'm afraid, but my husband will reimburse you. If you'd be so good as to find him...'<br /><br />Vane followed her gaze to the coffeehouse and his jaw tightened. 'I don't want repayment,' he said harshly.<br /><br />There was only one thing he'd ever wanted from her. He still wanted it. She knew by the suppressed violence in him, the tension that held his large frame utterly still.<br /><br />She was in no better state. Her senses feasted on him. He carried himself like a Roman general, with the grace of an athlete and a habit of command.<br /><br />Even in the open, bustling street Sarah felt crowded, oppressed, overwhelmed by him. Her pride refused to let her take a backward step. But oh, she wanted to. She wanted to run.<br /><br />All she could do was conceal her fear beneath that familiar mask of ice. 'Thank you. I'm obliged to you,' she said in a colorless tone.<br /><br />He continued to stand there, waiting, as if he expected something from her. She wasn't sure what it was, but she knew it was more than she could possibly give. She glanced at the coffeehouse. She needed to get away.<br /><br />'So cold,' breathed Vane. 'You are...quite the most unfeeling woman I've ever met.'<br /><br />Sarah forced her lips into a thin, cynical smile. How little he knew her. The danger had always been that she felt far, far too much. An excess of sensibility had led to the great downfall of her existence. She'd paid for her impulsive choice every day for the past ten years.<br /><br />The suffering had increased a hundredfold since she'd met Vane.<br /><br />They stared at one another without speaking. The everyday world rushed past in a muted blur, as if she and Vane were surrounded by smoked glass. Those compelling dark eyes bore into hers, determined to read her secret yearning, searching for a response.<br /><br />Her heart gave a mighty surge, as if it would leap from her chest into his. But she'd built a stronghold around her heart from the flotsam of wrecked dreams.<br /><br />Someone jostled her as they hurried past. The strange bubble of suspended time burst and the world flooded back, swirling around them. Sarah turned away.<br /><br />And there, in the bow window of Brown's Coffeehouse, stood Brinsley, her husband.</em><br /><br />Watching."<br /><br />- Christine Wells, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-3411554671225953052009-07-07T08:15:00.000-07:002009-08-24T08:18:11.815-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 114 - 13 Reasons to Read Mirror Blue by Thomma Lyn Grindstaff<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW6JlTbj4rcc9ZvASLZkbpnwlZVooeK8fh2ZJm0mT5ud_GyFYJMakFMQKn5rxjH5c_46qtwPa2FFmEL_nsH0pvefWc39QC2b-51Lz8Mh-3vlQb0mTNotN4IdNcpaz4hY2QK8VhKFtpR4u/s1600-h/mirror_blue_cover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW6JlTbj4rcc9ZvASLZkbpnwlZVooeK8fh2ZJm0mT5ud_GyFYJMakFMQKn5rxjH5c_46qtwPa2FFmEL_nsH0pvefWc39QC2b-51Lz8Mh-3vlQb0mTNotN4IdNcpaz4hY2QK8VhKFtpR4u/s320/mirror_blue_cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355901840468244258" /></a><br />I met <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thomma-Lyn-Grindstaff/e/B002BMAZCI/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1">Thomma Lyn Grindstaff</a> in the comments section of fellow writing-life bloggers, and eventually found myself addicted to her posts about her daily hikes up her East Tennessee mountain, complete with you-are-there photos.<br /><br />It's easy to rejoice with her when she encounters tadpoles evolving in a mountain stream, when she discovers rare ghost flowers deep in the forest and to be patient if she doesn't blog for a few days. I know that means she's working on her next story, so it's all good. <br /><br />1 - <a href="http://www.blacklyonpublishing.com/generalfiction.html"><strong><em>Mirror Blue</em></strong></a> is a Literary Love Story imprint from Black Lyon Publishing, released in May 2009. It is available in both Ebook PDF format or as a paperback. <br /><br />2 - <strong><em>Mirror Blue</em></strong> is Thomma Lyn's official debut novel.<br /><br />Her unofficial debut was actually a story called <strong><em>Thy Eternal Summer</em></strong>. She sold it to an e-publisher that folded not long afterwards. Did Thomma Lyn let that get to her?<br /><br />Ha! <br /><br />3 - Being published was just a matter of time for Thomma Lyn. <em>"I recall when I was eleven years old,"</em> she writes, <em>"and a teacher asked my class to write an essay about what we hoped we'd be doing as adults. I wrote that I wanted to be a novelist. Writing has always gone hand in hand with reading, and I can't remember a time when I wasn't in love with words."</em> <br /><br />4 - Her readers get to bask in her lifelong passion for words. <strong><em>Mirror Blue</em></strong> is pearled with poetic gems like <em>"Her crush on Isaac had turned into a sword, and she'd cut her hands fondling the blade."</em><br /><br />By the way, all I had to do to find that line was to open the book. It was right there on the first random page that opened up. Page 40, if you must know. <br /><br />5 - We meet Aphra Porter, child of hippy philosopher parents, a southern woman who designs web sites and has had a crush on writer Isaac Lightfoot since her teens. She can't believe she's in a fan girl line-up at one of his book signings. She can't believe how she feels when he looks her straight in the eye and talks to her long enough to make the line-up behind her get fidgety.<br /><br />6 - Isaac Lightfoot, decorated Vietnam vet with his Silver Star and more than one Purple Heart tucked away in a shoebox, can't believe his luck. Not only does the enchanting woman whose fan letter he remembered after all these years show up at his book signing, but she mentions that she's a web designer. His current author site sucks. It certainly isn't hard to find her on the web - how many people are named after a goddess? <br /><br />7 - I really, really love the heartbreaky tone to this love story. I know, I know - <em>quelle surprise</em>.<br /><br />Once these two Harley Davidson riders take their first ride on the open road together, their romance begins. But there is a 20-year age gap between them, not to mention Isaac's 30-year relationship with his former wife and the ghosts of combat past that rear up in the night. Aphra struggles to convince herself that she's not in over her head, and Isaac fights to make his spoken words as compelling as his written ones when Aphra keeps retreating from the onslaught of Isaac's complicated baggage. <br /><br />8 - As a Literary Love Story, the sexual dynamics are frank yet lyrical. Thomma Lyn's big strength is focusing on the intricate emotional landscape within every erotic encounter. Here's a taste:<br /><br /><em>"They were, each of them, famished for the other. This, Aphra realized, was what was missing from her lackluster, poor liaisons: this need, licking along the surfaces of her bones like thick liquid being heated."</em> <br /><br />9 - She intertwines a subplot concerning Isaac's grown son, Aphra's sister and the impending bundles of joy coming to each of them. With Isaac past child rearing and Aphra insisting she was never interested in the first place, all the exposure to families starting up makes these lovers question the impact a childless life would have on the other. <br /><br />10 - Thomma Lyn really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>" 'What about Cheryl, his wife? How does she fit in?' said Aphra.<br /><br />'She's like Norma.'<br /><br />'But she seems so quiet and mousy.'<br /><br />'She is quiet and mousy, and yeah, Norma's got a mouth on her like a siren. But they're the same type of woman under the surface: cold, manipulative and self-centered. They thrive on attention. Same song, different dance. I hate it for Sam. I really do. But it's what he's used to in women, it's what he grew up with.'<br /><br />'Be up front with me, Isaac. Are you sure spending time with me won't bring too much stress upon your head? You'll be dealing with aggravation all around: from Norma, from your mother, and from Sam. Do you really need that, at this point in your life?'<br /><br />'What I need is you. And as for stress, that's a laugh. You're forgetting who you're talking to. Norma's shenanigans are nothing compared to a nest of NVA snipers. Remember that.'<br /><br />Aphra hoped he was right. Alas, doubt's gloomy specter kept tap-tapping on her mind's window."</em><br /><br />11 - At just under 200 pages, <strong><em>Mirror Blue</em></strong> looks like it would be a quick read. But Thomma Lyn's language is so rich, her novel must be savoured like a dark chocolate dessert. Pull up a chair, stir your coffee or tea and sit a spell. This is a character-driven novel with its own pace. <br /><br />12 - Check out my <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2009/04/thursday-thirteen-103-13-questions-for.html">my interview with Thomma Lyn</a> which appeared here at <strong>A Piece of My Mind</strong> just before her May 1st release date. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"One shadow separated itself from the rest of them and crabbed across the doorway of her bedroom. It was too big to be one of the cats. But if it was Isaac, he didn't make a sound.<br /><br />Aphra reached for the lamp on her nightstand and flipped it on. Maybe no one was breaking in and Isaac wasn't pining for his ex. Maybe he was in the kitchen making a sandwich. <br /><br />She didn't have to go far to find Isaac. Six feet from her bedroom doorway he appeared, looming over her. She didn't hear him coming, nor did she see him, until he was there. She had a quick glimpse of his face in the light that spilled over from her bedroom - stony eyes, an unrelenting jaw - before he had her in a headlock; her back was to him, and she didn't remember him turning her around. He was fast, big and strong. And he could break her neck like a twig.<br /><br />She let out a squeak; it was all she could manage. He abruptly spun her back around and pressed her up against him. 'My God, it's you. You startled me. Oh, please forgive me. What a sorry-assed son of a bitch I am!'<br /><br />Aphra was shaking.<br /><br />He held her tighter. 'Look at you, I've scared you half to death. Did I hurt you, honey? God almighty, I'm sorry. I woke up crazy-headed, plumb off my rocker.'<br /><br />She hugged him back and nuzzled his chest. 'Do you mean you had a nightmare?'<br /><br />'Not a nightmare, at least not one I remember. All I know is I woke up in a cold sweat. I felt like something awful was going to happen. So there I was, looking for potential ambush sites and figuring out the best defensive positions against them. I don't know what got into me, but I know it hasn't gotten into me for a long time.'<br /><br />'Are you saying you do this often? Wake up and go into battle mode?'<br /><br />'It used to happen pretty regularly. Not any more. Mostly when it happens these days, it's triggered by stress.'<br /><br />'I'm stressing you out?' "</em><br /><br />- Thomma Lyn Grindstaff, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-62211708373837185102009-07-01T08:08:00.000-07:002009-07-02T08:11:19.215-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 113 - 13 Reasons to Read Baby in Her Arms by Stella MacLean<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf9OCPuBfPpmj4M2Ekhuynt35fwXIm4ioHtUq1NjDUmi1QwddeyrFrFcuOpLsoUyHirw7EV8u2s7HeBEF1PpKzdhORIWMMWMODxdQlTVK2hL-lL9vs-SCPzBXW56Dikxjds2YtJ9QAuhq/s1600-h/1baby_in_her_arms.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf9OCPuBfPpmj4M2Ekhuynt35fwXIm4ioHtUq1NjDUmi1QwddeyrFrFcuOpLsoUyHirw7EV8u2s7HeBEF1PpKzdhORIWMMWMODxdQlTVK2hL-lL9vs-SCPzBXW56Dikxjds2YtJ9QAuhq/s320/1baby_in_her_arms.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342063013107908626" /></a><br />For some reason, there's nothing quite like the feeling of popping into the grocery store to grab something, and out of the corner of my eye the book rack flagged me down - and there, with all the other books, was the latest release from one of my writers' group members.<br /><br />What a mega-thrill! Maybe it's because I went into the store for something food-related and I wasn't thinking about books. It took me by surprise, even though I knew it was coming out. So I just brought it up to the cashier like I was a normal person buying normal things. I watched her ring it through with such a feeling of secret excitement.<br /><br />And then I got home, turned the first few pages - I laughed. I cried.<br /><br />No wonder <a href="http://www.eharlequin.com/author.html?authorid=985">Shirley Hailstock</a>, past president of <a href="http://www.rwanational.org/cs/about_rwa">Romance Writers of America</a>, gave this review on Amazon:<br /><br /><em>"I hope Harlequin knows what a treasure they have in <a href="http://www.eharlequin.com/author.html?authorid=1704">Stella MacLean</a>. Her second SuperRomance, <strong>Baby in Her Arms</strong>, is the lifetime story of the love between deceased husband Andrew and his wife Emily. At the same time, it's the parallel love story of a second chance at happiness. MacLean weaves the two elements seamlessly together, making us love both the sensitive man that was her husband and the caring neighbor who harbors a quiet and sincere longing for the lonely woman next door."</em> <br /><br />1 - <strong><em>Baby in Her Arms</em></strong> is a Bundles of Joy imprint from Harlequin SuperRomance, released in March 2009. As a category romance, it has a limited shelf life in brick-and-mortar stores - and is likely already sold out - but is available for order online at <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Baby-Her-Arms-Harlequin-Superromance/dp/0373715536/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1246468689&sr=1-1">Amazon</a>. <br /><br />2 - Stella MacLean's debut novel was <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Heart-My-Harlequin-Superromance/dp/0373714874/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1246468689&sr=1-2"><em>Heart of My Heart</em></a>, which followed the contemporary story of James and Olivia, while flashbacking to their initial romance and all the hills and valleys it survived. I really enjoyed the breadth of the story and the contrast between the young lovers and the mature characters they'd evolved into. Love is so much deeper when it is hard-won.<br /><br />You can <a href="http://juliasbookreviews.blogspot.com/2008/04/thursday-thirteen-50-13-reasons-to-read.html">read my review</a> here. <br /><br />3 - The reason that <strong><em>Baby in Her Arms</em></strong> had me in tears so quickly stems from my own loss of my dad and my father-in-law in the past two years. Staying in the hospital rooms with my step mom and my mother-in-law as they said goodbye to their loves was very intimate and special, and it made the heartache of main character Emily very immediate for me. <br /><br />4 - We meet Emily Martin, rushing to the hospital for the birth of her daughter's first child. The joy of this moment is painful for what it exposes in Emily's heart. Her late husband's presence is everywhere for her - by his absence. <br /><br />5 - Andrew Martin was a trial lawyer whose family growing up were not the best at sharing emotions. Andrew subsequently falls into patterns he'd sworn never to share with his parents: work first, family when he could squeeze them in. When he developed cancer in later years, his inability to share his fear and grief with his wife drove him to write a series of letters which he addressed to his love - but never told her about. He told his best friend, however - neighbor Sam Bannister, a man whom Andrew knows carries a flame for Emily.<br /><br />6 - Sam is a retired classics professor with <em>"a penchant for reading Shakespeare out loud in his back garden during the summer."</em> A widower himself for some years, he maintained a close friendship with Andrew, who had little time for non-work-related relationships as he tried to be the dad he'd never had himself, and the husband his wife deserved but didn't see near enough. A passionate gardener, Sam started to mow Emily's lawn when Andrew's illness became too much for that sort of thing. <br /><br />7 - I really, really love the flashback aspects of this story. Straight contemporary romances aren't really my thing. There generally has to be something paranormal or highly original or quirky to get me interested in following a couple, such as getting to skip back and forth through time through Andrew's letters to Emily, and continuous flashbacks through different times in their marriage. Emily finds his letters when she decides to enter her late husband's home office and finally clear it out to use as a playroom for her grandchildren. Having the flashbacks come to the reader through both Emily's and Andrew's POV's is really effective. We get a he-said-she-said version of major events, which throws a revealing light on both of them. <br /><br />8 - As a Harlequin SuperRomance, the sexual dynamics remain in the sweet category. But Stella MacLean's big strength is wringing the reader's heart with emotional punches, and you know I love stories that do that. Erotic escapades are referred to but not dwelled upon. She brings us quickly into complicated emotional territory instead. <br /><br />9 - She intertwines subplots concerning two of Emily's grown children into the mix of Emily's recent farewell to her husband, the close-to-the-surface memories of their life together, and her emerging relationship with neighbor Sam. All in 239 pages. She excells at storytelling that gets right to the heart of things without sacrificing style, her wry voice or solid characterization. <br /><br />10 - MacLean really knows how to end each chapter with an emotional hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"I waited to hear more, but he said nothing, which told me there was something seriously wrong in his life. I wanted to jump in with a dozen nosy questions. 'I'll dust off my roaster and cook a chicken. To go with the chocolate cake.'<br /><br />'You do that. See you Friday. Love you, Mom.'<br /><br />How I wish Andrew was here. He'd be so happy to find out Jonathan was coming for a visit. Andrew loved to have the children home on the weekends, or anytime for that matter.<br /><br />He and Jonathan enjoyed going fishing together. I can still see the two of them unloading the old Jeep we had years ago, their sunburned faces wreathed in smiles as they dragged their gear out of the back.<br /><br />Thinking of Andrew made me wonder how he'd react to my tea date with Sam. And the fence. I could almost hear Andrew's throaty chuckle when I explained how determined Sam was to install one.<br /><br />Would this desire to talk to Andrew, to tell him how I feel, what was going on in my life, eventually ease? Would I ever be spared the urge to compare my past with the reality of my present?"</em><br /><br />11 - Stella MacLean had a long route to publication, which just goes to show all the yet-to-be-published writers out there: it's all worth it, in the end. Just read what one reader had to say when she wanted to read MacLean's backlist.<br /><br /><em>"I could have misplaced my mind LOL but I was sure that you have written more than two books. Am I right or have I really lost my marbles?? If you have written more will you please sent me the titles of them. I am currently writing a list of all the books I want or need to complete my collection."</em> - Ashley Saunders<br /><br />She has indeed written more than two books - but so far only two are in print. Not for long!<br /><br />12 - MacLean has this to say about the writing process:<br /><br /><em>"Creativity is about adapting the reality of everyday living to the 'what if' of imagination. Creativity is not a one shot deal. It is nurtured by every event in life, whether large or small."</em><br /><br />She takes the same approach with <strong><em>Baby in Her Arms</em></strong>. For Emily, love is not a one shot deal. Her marriage with Andrew took nurturing through every event in their lives, large and small. Now with Andrew gone, her neighbor Sam awakens feelings that don't belong to her past with Andrew. They whisper of a future - with Sam. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Dearest Emily,<br /><br />I was on my way downstairs when I felt the need to go into the room we'd done up years ago for the twins.<br /><br />The room's changed a number of times over the years, yet as I glance around I remember the yellow paint you and I put on the walls, and the Dr. Seuss characters we pasted above the wainscoting.<br /><br />I'll never forget the look on your face when Dr. Reeves said he could hear two heartbeats. The drive home from the appointment that day was a once-in-a-lifetime ride. We were both in shock. How would we cope with</em> two <em>babies? Where would we get the money to buy all the baby things we needed - two of everything?<br /><br />In the backseat, Jonathan talked about babies and how he didn't want too many of them. He had a friend in school with twin brothers, and that wasn't a good plan, in Jonathan's opinion.<br /><br />Didn't we laugh as we listened to him.<br /><br />How could I forget the Saturday morning you hurried into the bedroom and told me to get out of bed and come see what the twins were doing.<br /><br />Somehow, they'd managed to pull their cribs close together and they were throwing stuffed animals back and forth.<br /><br />Somewhere during those years after the twins were born, our nightly chats dwindled. I'd get home later, usually after the children were in bed, exhausted after a busy day. I'd be so tired I'd go to bed and sleep straight through the night, waking the next morning and heading back to the office for another long day.<br /><br />As I write these words, I can hear you outside my office door. You're anxious to know if I'm okay, if I've had anything to eat this morning and if I'm ready to go to the Oncology Clinic. You'll scold a little about how I shouldn't have gotten up alone.<br /><br />I'll stop writing for now. Maybe we'll have lunch out, or go to the bookstore, all the simple pleasures that keep me connected to the real world. Our world.<br /><br />Love always,<br /><br />Andrew"</em><br /><br />- Stella MacLean, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-46510272869368628772009-05-27T08:39:00.000-07:002009-06-01T08:40:18.720-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 108 - 13 Reasons to Read To Rescue a Rogue by Jo Beverley<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDUA7b2SMyXFLpgrOgKEHX4ZVjwabrdsTUlKyiuwCEPYIxa45Ox7_FIP8oF8d8hWj_IyDVIAp3FFR2UUgAjtS6kKxZb0vfMkkuapC8V_rRGchy9qjI27mIFiaQzhjj8xb1h8ECO2E_6DN/s1600-h/to_rescue_a_rogue.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDUA7b2SMyXFLpgrOgKEHX4ZVjwabrdsTUlKyiuwCEPYIxa45Ox7_FIP8oF8d8hWj_IyDVIAp3FFR2UUgAjtS6kKxZb0vfMkkuapC8V_rRGchy9qjI27mIFiaQzhjj8xb1h8ECO2E_6DN/s320/to_rescue_a_rogue.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340297262195481602" /></a><br />Once upon a time I didn't read romance novels.<br /><br />My sister and cousin enjoyed them. <a href="http://www.juliannemaclean.com/about.php">My cousin</a> had even started to write them. Now, of course, she's waiting for a release date for her 14th novel.<br /><br />When she lived in Ottawa for a few years, and I lived in Toronto, I hopped on a train and visited her and her husband for the weekend. She had just finished reading an historical romance that she was certain I would love. So she loaned it to me, and I started it on the train on the way home.<br /><br />My cousin knows my tastes well. She was right. I fell for that book and haven't looked back since. It was <a href="http://dearauthor.com/wordpress/2008/05/17/review-dark-champion-by-jo-beverley/"><em>Dark Champion</em></a> by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jo_Beverley">Jo Beverley</a>. <br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://us.penguingroup.com/nf/Book/BookDisplay/0,,9780451220110,00.html?To_Rescue_A_Rogue_Jo_Beverley"><em>To Rescue a Rogue</em></a> is a 2006 <strong>Signet</strong> release, an imprint of <strong>New American Library</strong>, which is a division of <strong>Penguin Group</strong>. It is part of Ms. Beverley's <a href="http://members.shaw.ca/jobev/rogues.html">Company of Rogues</a> series, set in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_Regency">Regency period</a>. <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - The <strong>Company of Rogues</strong> <em>"came about when original Rogue Nicholas and the rest turned up at Harrow School. Schools in those days were almost anarchical places. Nicholas took one look at things and decided to create a small area of civilization. He gathered twelve new boys according to his own gifted whim, and formed a brotherhood of protection. They were not to bully others, or avoid proper duties or deserved punishment, but they would oppose oppression from all quarters. Most bullies and tyrants soon learned to leave them alone."</em> - Jo Beverley, <a href="http://members.shaw.ca/jobev/rogues.html">The Company of Rogues</a><br /><br />Many of the Rogues joined the army or went to sea during the war against Napoleon. <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - We meet the heroine just after she's fled the unwelcome attentions of a military hero and acquaintance of her brother. The main male character is an old school chum of the same brother, a family friend and someone with whom she feels very much at ease. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - <strong>Lady Mara St. Bride</strong> sports the devil-hair of her family's heritage. <em>"It predicted a taste for adventure at best, disaster at worst."</em> Though rare, both she and her brother Simon were born with it. Her latest ill-thought-out adventure opens the book, as we meet her wrapped in a scratchy blanket over a shift, making her shoeless way through the unsavoury midnight streets of London. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - <strong>Lord Darius Debenham</strong> returns from an evening on the town to see a sorry wretch huddled on his family's London town house front steps. Only the unfortunate girl is not a nameless London waif, but his friend Simon's sister. Knowing the society scandal that would result if anyone should see her in this state, he scoops her up and away from prying eyes into the safety of Yeovil House.<br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - One of my favorite things about Jo Beverley's writing is her complete disregard for the conventions of the historical romance. If you've read my blog for awhile, you'll know that the <em>Sesame Street</em> song <em>One of These Things is Not Like The Others</em> is my theme song.<br /><br />A heroine whose youth makes her more prone to too-stupid-to-live decisions? Historically accurate age range for her, though not popular with today's readers, who prefer main female characters in their 20's even though that is completely wrong for most historical time periods? Bring her on.<br /><br />A hero addicted to opium? A hero whose physical and mental distress is perhaps not Alpha enough for the average reader? Give me some of that.<br /><br />Ms. Beverley has six <a href="http://www.rwanational.org/cs/contests_and_awards/rita_awards">Rita Awards</a> for excellence in romance fiction. Bucking convention works for her, and for me - her grateful and loyal reader. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - Another thing Ms. Beverley does that irritates some but is a draw for me is her extensive use of dialogue. Many of her scenes read like pages of a script, and as you can imagine, I gobble that up. Her dialogue is extremely natural, which includes some repetition and inclusion of throw-away lines. She always manages to further character development or plot through her dialogue - without any obvious pointers to <em>important-info-here</em>.<br /><br />Here's a sample:<br /><br /><em>" 'Take off the remains of your stockings and we'll clean you up.' He went to the washstand.<br /><br />She sighed and carefully rolled down her silk stockings, but they no longer warranted care. They were embroidered with flowers and had cost a shameful amount, but now they were ruined. As she had almost been.<br /><br />'They're off,' she said, pulling the blanket back around herself. 'But I have to get home, Dare. Now. Can you -'<br /><br />'Not before I've checked your feet.' He sat by them and raised each to study it. 'No blood, I don't think.' He looked up, blue eyes steady. 'All right. What happened, Imp?'<br /><br />She focused and realized what the dark concern in his eyes meant. 'Oh! Nothing like</em> that, <em>Dare. I ran away.'<br /><br />'So where did you have to run away from? And,' he added, looking down to dab at the sole of her foot with a soapy cloth, 'why were you there in the first place?'<br /><br />It stung and she squirmed. 'You don't need to do that.'<br /><br />'Stop trying to avoid the confession. What bull did you wave a red cloth at this time?'<br /><br />'It wasn't my fault,' she protested, but then grimaced. 'I suppose it was. I sneaked out of Ella's to go with Major Berkstead to a gaming hell.'<br /><br />He paused to stare. 'In God's name, why?'<br /><br />She looked down and saw how grubby her hands were. Not a lady's hands at all. 'I've been asking myself that. I suppose I was bored.'<br /><br />Surprisingly, he laughed. 'Your family should know better than to let a devil-hair have time on her hands.' "</em> <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - The sexual attraction between Mara and Dare travels a winding path. Their brother/sister ease with each other at the beginning provides the initial roadblock. But her youth, his addiction and his determination to kick the habit provide the heart of the tension between them. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - Being intimately acquainted with chronic pain and with a dependence on painkillers to get through my life, I found the scenes of Darius's journey to break free from the clutches of opium really hit the right chord. Completely fascinating and haunting. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Ms. Beverley really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Berkstead stopped and a sneering smile curled his lip. 'Debenham. I know all about you.'<br /><br />It stung, but Dare hid it. 'I doubt it, but if you don't fear me, fear her brother.'<br /><br />'A St. Bride of Bridewell?' Berkstead stopped trying to rise but looked more comfortable by the moment. 'A bunch of country mice. Not one of them a soldier.'<br /><br />'There are St. Bride's and St. Bride's. Simon St. Bride will kill you by inches, but the list lining up behind him will include some of the most powerful men in England, none of them squeamish about crushing lice. I could start with the Duke of St. Raven and the Marquess of Arden.'<br /><br />The sneer died. 'I want to marry her!' Berkstead protested. 'She's afraid of her family. They won't let her marry out of Lincolnshire.'<br /><br />'If Mara St. Bride wanted to marry a Hottentot, she would probably do so.'<br /><br />'I'll buy a house in Lincolnshire.'<br /><br />Mara was right. The man didn't listen. A table still held scattered cards, two glasses and an empty decanter. On a chair he saw white gloves, a pretty pink dress and a light pelerine of pale cloth. He picked them up, and the slippers from the floor.<br /><br />Dare headed for the one other door that must lead to the stairs. Hand on handle, he looked back at the crumpled man. 'Remember. None of this happened. That, sir, is your only hope of salvation.' "</em> <br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - Because this is a bit of a wrap-up for the Rogues, there is a reunion of the characters from Ms. Beverley's previous dozen Rogues books. Some readers may find all the names and references dizzying, but for fans of her series, the reunion is a dream come true. The relationships between these men have real history, and you can feel it in their scenes together. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Jo Beverley has published:<br /><br />4 Medievals<br />9 Georgians (with a new one due in 2010)<br />8 traditional Regencies<br />14 Company of Rogues Regencies, featuring former soldiers returning to Society<br />11 novellas<br />3 science fiction/fantasy stories<br /><br />Click for <a href="http://members.shaw.ca/jobev/booklist.html">a list of Jo Beverley's works</a>. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>" 'Some young men burn to take risks,' Dare said.<br /><br />'Like you?' said Mara.<br /><br />'Not really. I met some officers who only seemed to come alive when in battle. Lacking that, they tended to stupefy themselves with drink, or seek danger in high-stakes gaming.'<br /><br />They were nearing the inn, and Mara had to ask, 'How will you manage the night here?'<br /><br />'I'll take an extra dose.'<br /><br />She turned to him, knowing what that meant. 'Oh, Dare.'<br /><br />He smiled wryly. 'Apparently it's my next lesson. I have proved I can stand like a wall, Ruyuan says, and must now prove that I can bend like the willow. Or something like that. He becomes metaphorical.'<br /><br />He took out a finger-sized vial of deep blue glass with gold Chinese lettering. 'I am even in charge of my destiny.' His voice had taken on a bitter edge.<br /><br />'May I see?'<br /><br />He passed her the bottle and she saw that on the top of the cap was an etching of an Oriental warrior wielding a sword. 'Laudanum?' she asked, trying to keep her tone mundane.<br /><br />'Of a sort. Strong and without sugar. I prefer it bitter. I would prefer it to be in an ugly container, but there is some other lesson in that, I gather.'<br /><br />Mara touched the picture of the warrior. 'Do you still have my favor?'<br /><br />'Always.' He took back the vial and put it away, then took her hand to lead her down a lane between a house and a cobbler's shop.<br /><br />There he drew her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. She sensed he meant the kiss to be brief and decorous but tender need swept through them. She cradled his face and parted her lips to join with him in the only way allowed.<br /><br />Rough wall pressed at her back, and Dare's strong body enfolded her. Mara lost all sense of reality other than him, and pleasure, and a building desire that could drive her mad.<br /><br />They pulled apart, staring into each other's eyes, only to press together again, this time bodily, with Mara's head on his chest, within which his heart pounded frantically just like hers.<br /><br />'Oh, but I want you so much, Dare. I want to be yours completely. I wish it were now.'<br /><br />'My adored, beloved Mara,' he whispered into her hair. 'Thank God for control, or I'd take you here against the wall.' "</em><br />- Jo Beverley, 2006<br /><br />Join me next week when I review <strong><em>Baby in Her Arms</em></strong> by Stella MacLean.Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-80423069554147063772009-05-20T18:00:00.000-07:002009-05-26T18:02:57.523-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 107 - 13 Reasons to Read March by Geraldine BrooksYou may have noticed the badge I have in my sidebar.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYftCniSLfpSquqHIMououk7U6kXc1t8YW9Jtr6Dfsw7hTLfgcunY2tLLUHHAHXXhS8HBfHUY_pBuQwmS8iaO9su0wcIfKM9YWspL3JsZ8giDTEFoD-Znuq8Y3IWacV51h_pxGNvV6pwv/s1600-h/1dewey.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 157px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYftCniSLfpSquqHIMououk7U6kXc1t8YW9Jtr6Dfsw7hTLfgcunY2tLLUHHAHXXhS8HBfHUY_pBuQwmS8iaO9su0wcIfKM9YWspL3JsZ8giDTEFoD-Znuq8Y3IWacV51h_pxGNvV6pwv/s320/1dewey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333990464764581522" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And that I've joined a reading challenge held in her honor. Dewey was a book blogger who posted indepth reviews of wonderful books. She also acted as the hub of many blog communities, such as <a href="http://www.weeklygeeks.com/2008/12/about-weekly-geeks.html">Weekly Geeks</a>, <a href="http://24hourreadathon.com/read-a-thon-faq/">24-Hour Readathon</a> and <a href="http://bookwormscarnival.wordpress.com/about/">Bookworms Carnival</a>.<br /><br />I'm only a fringe book-blogger, more of a writing-life blogger. I knew of these blog communities and I was a regular visitor at Dewey's blog, <a href="http://deweymonster.com/">The Hidden Side of a Leaf</a>. I left comments for her, and she left comments for me.<br /><br />Like this one:<br /><br /><em>"It's nice to read about a family with so many generations still so close!"</em> - Dewey, Aug. 5th, 2007<br /><br />Here's a wee conversation we had over in her comments section, after her review of Neil Gaiman's <em>Stardust</em>:<br /><br />Me - <em>"As a film sort of person, I have naturally seen ‘Stardust’ but haven’t read the book. I really enjoyed it, as I did the British TV miniseries ‘Neverwhere’, which is one of my favorite miniseries ever. Of course, didn’t read the book!<br /><br />Book lovers are often highly displeased with film versions of their favorites. Something is always left out that the reader enjoyed so much. Personally, I always find it fascinating to see different adaptations of stories. One story can be a poem, novel, film, opera or ballet. Each version has to morph into something completely new."</em><br /><br />Dewey - <em>"My husband is ESPECIALLY prone to hating any movie made out of anything he’s read. I can sometimes manage to take them as two separate things and enjoy them for what they each are, but other times, like with Shakespeare/Danes/DiCaprio fiasco, not."</em> - (LOL!) Nov. 9th, 2007<br /><br />Imagine my shock when I clicked over to her blog last Dec. 1st to read these words:<br /><br /><em>"I’ve got a piece of sad news to deliver. Dewey passed away on Tuesday evening. My wife was unwell and in a lot of pain; I don’t believe she ever discussed that side of her life here, and I’ve no desire to go against her boundaries, just know she was in a lot of pain. I am sad that my wife is no longer here, but she’s not in pain any more."</em><br /><br />I read this at work. Luckily, no one saw the tears running down my face. <br /><br />Dewey's blog friends quickly set up several reading challenges in her honor. Participants are asked to choose 6 books from her 2003-2008 book review archives. This is my first review from the <strong>Dewey Reading Challenge</strong>. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjCRXp_qePEuxTZraXCDNqqDsCSa6-qHrWK0K3sGV3J3RibgCskKIfWYg1Bf8KAGnTWLSR_SzD3XzsVPGsPHXd9BldXOiresVB7HkM_iVAoGPSqVpMs_9gqSPpEyFQlyfXAJ43uqhOqU_/s1600-h/1_march.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTjCRXp_qePEuxTZraXCDNqqDsCSa6-qHrWK0K3sGV3J3RibgCskKIfWYg1Bf8KAGnTWLSR_SzD3XzsVPGsPHXd9BldXOiresVB7HkM_iVAoGPSqVpMs_9gqSPpEyFQlyfXAJ43uqhOqU_/s320/1_march.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333918875680950962" /></a><br /><strong>1</strong> - First of all, as with Kailana's <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2007/11/golden-compass.html">Four-Legged Friends Reading Challenge</a> - the first one I ever joined - I've been led towards a fantastic book I never would have been able to read if I had not crowbarred the time into my schedule. <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.ca/March-Geraldine-Brooks/dp/0143036661"><em>March</em></a> is the second book of fiction for <a href="http://www.geraldinebrooks.com/about.html">Geraldine Brooks</a>, a former journalist. Far from a sophomore jinx, this second offering won Ms. Brooks the 2006 <a href="http://www.pulitzer.org/citation/2006-Fiction">Pulitzer Prize for Fiction</a>.<br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - Ms. Brooks is also the author of <a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Year-Wonders-Geraldine-Brooks/dp/0142001430/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242781988&sr=1-2"><em>Year of Wonders</em></a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.ca/People-Book-Geraldine-Brooks/dp/0143115006/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242782068&sr=1-1"><em>People of the Book</em></a>.<br /><br />I'm currently reading <strong><em>Year of Wonders</em></strong> as the second book for the <strong>Dewey Reading Challenge</strong>.<br /><br />Ms. Brooks has also written two non-fiction books:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Nine-Parts-Desire-Hidden-Islamic/dp/0385475772/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242782287&sr=1-5"><em>Nine Parts of Desire: The Hidden World of Islamic Women</em></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Foreign-Correspondence-Pals-Journey-Under/dp/0385483732/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242782460&sr=1-8"><em>Foreign Correspondence: A Pen Pal's Journey from Down Under to All Over</em></a> <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - <strong><em>March</em></strong> takes us to familiar territory and then spins our expectations in wild directions. Brooks bases her characters on those of Louisa May Alcott's from her novel <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Women"><em>Little Women</em></a>. It is fiction that sees a contemporary author visiting the work of a well-known classic and expanding on the world created by the original author. The whole sub-genre of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parallel_novel">parallel novel</a> intrigues me, and the following books are on my wish list:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Story-Heathcliffs-Journey-Wuthering-Heights/dp/0671777009"><em>H. - The Story of Heathcliff's Journey Back to Wuthering Heights</em></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Wide-Sargasso-Penguin-Student-Editions/dp/0140818030/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242833738&sr=1-2"><em>Wide Sargasso Sea</em></a> - saw the film. Loved it.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rhett-Butlers-People-Donald-McCaig/dp/B001FOR5Z8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242833835&sr=1-1"><em>Rhett Butler's People</em></a><br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - The story is told through two first-person accounts: Mr. March's POV - he's an army chaplain for the Union side during the American Civil War, and Marmee March's POV - she's his wife and the mother of four older girls known to us as the Little Women of Alcott's book.<br /><br />The changing POV's are handled beautifully. In <strong><em>Little Women</em></strong>, the absent father is at war when the family receives word that he is gravely ill, and Marmee must go to him. <strong><em>March</em></strong> begins in Mr. March's POV, where we remain until the illness sets in. At that point, the POV changes to Marmee's until he is somewhat recovered. Then we end the book once again in Mr. March's POV. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - In an inspired choice, Brooks gives us a Marmee very unlike the one we get to know in <strong><em>Little Women</em></strong>. That Marmee is kind and good, self-restrained and the epitome of the loving Woman. Of course, she's also a single mother in practice while her husband is away, and never shows she is unequal to the task of providing a secure home for her daughters. Marmee is an early version of today's Super Mom.<br /><br />Daughter Jo is hot-headed, dramatic, tomboyish and intellectual. Her sister Beth is often trying to gentle Jo's behaviour.<br /><br />In a wonderful role swap, we meet a Marmee who is the genesis of her future daughter Jo. Marmee exhibits all the characteristics we know so well as Jo's domain. And in a touching echo of Jo's and Beth's relationship, Mr. March spends quite a few scenes attempting to diffuse his wife's powder-keg temper. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - Rather than Jo's vibrant inner world of fictional stories and dramatic plays, Marmee is a passionate abolitionist. Ms. Brooks writes several real life figures of the time into the book: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ralph_Waldo_Emerson">Ralph Waldo Emerson</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_David_Thoreau">Henry David Thoreau</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Brown_(abolitionist)">John Brown</a>. Louisa May Alcott's father Bronson - the inspiration for Ms. Brooks' character of Mr. March - was a contemporary of all three and was influential upon those great thinkers and rebels.<br /><br />When he meets Marmee, who already runs a station for the Underground Railroad, he cannot help but join his flame of idealism to hers. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - The only cause of the war that means anything to March is the one to free the slaves. His early experiences on a plantation, which begin the novel, and his relationships with slaves bring us deep into the heart of the novel. What truly drives a man like March to temporarily leave his family for an ideal? Ms. Brooks introduces us to numerous characters who are flesh and blood incarnations of the ideals March cherishes. Later in the novel, in Marmee's POV, we discover what living for one's ideals can take from a man - and from a woman. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - The relationship between March and Marmee is very he said/she said. Several identical scenes are told from his POV and then later from hers. Being on the receiving end of a Marmee outburst with March, and later discovering how it hurts Marmee when her husband negates her feelings gives a poignant, complex look into a very intense marriage. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Ms. Brooks really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"I didn't know what I'd be able to do, but this time I had to do something. I moved forward, parting the corn with my arm. A blow to the back of my knees caused me to crumple. 'Stay put, marse,' hissed Jesse, behind me. 'Now ain't no time to make a move.'<br /><br />'Gentlemen, move out!' the major called. 'We have an appointment to keep.' He lifted a battered</em> chapeau de bras <em>and swept it across his body in a mockery of a bow, and turned his horse for the woods. I saw that Zannah was running after the party, the need to be with her son more powerful than her fear of reenslavement. One of the irregulars also saw her, and turned to alert the major. The major shrugged, and so the guerilla pushed Zannah forward into line with the tied slaves and roped by the neck. <br /><br />When they had disappeared into the ragged scallop of cypress woods, Jesse grabbed my hand and started after them, keeping to the corn rows. He had a trash-cutter's knife slung across his back. 'If we can just keep sight of them till nightfall,' he said as we advanced at a brisk jog, 'then maybe when they's sleeping we just might git a chance to cut loose some of them.' It was a better plan than any I had, and so we followed them into the trees."</em> <br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - There are many, many scenes that stay with me. Geraldine Brooks' background in journalism helped her develop a punchy style that paints image-rich scenes with a beautiful economy of words. Her story is often heartbreaking, but that's a place I long to go with open arms. <strong><em>March</em></strong> really took me there. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - What did Dewey have to say about <strong><em>March</em></strong>? Click <a href="http://deweymonster.com/?p=209">HERE</a> to find out. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"When we were admitted the colonel was still pouring over engineer's drawings and seemed to listen to my complaint with only half an ear.<br /><br />'Very well,' he said when I had concluded. He turned to the offending soldiers. 'The chaplain is quite right. I won't have civilian women molested, even if they are the wives and spawn of rebels. I understand why you felt driven to do it, but don't be doing it again. Dismissed.'<br /><br />The soldiers left, their relief propelling them swiftly from the room. Only the corporal paused, to give me a swift grin of contempt. The colonel had taken up a compass and commenced measuring distances on the engineer's drawings.<br /><br />'Sir-' I began, but he cut me off.<br /><br />'March, I think you should reconsider your place with this regiment.'</em><br /><br />'Sir?'<br /><br /><em>'You can't seem to get on with anyone. You've irritated the other officers...Even Tyndale can't abide you - and he's as much of an abolitionist as you are. I've got Surgeon McKillop in one ear complaining that you don't preach against sin, and yet here you are sowing discord in the ranks by seeing a great sin in harmless soldierly pranks...'<br /><br />'Sir, such wanton destruction is hardly -'<br /><br />'Keep your peace, would you, March for once in your life?' He jabbed the compass so hard that it passed right through the chart and lodged in the fine mahogany of the desk beneath. He came around the desk then and laid a hand on my arm. 'I like you alright; I know you mean well, but the thing of it is, you're too radical for these mill-town lads. Most of these boys aren't down here fighting for the nig - for the slaves. You</em> must <em>see it, man.'<br /><br />He shot me a hard look. I held my tongue, with the greatest difficulty. He went on, as if speaking to himself. 'Why do we have chaplains? The book of army regulations has little to say on the matter. Odd, isn't it? Well, in my view your duty is to bring the men comfort.' Then he glared at me and raised his voice. 'That's your role, March, damn it. And yet all you seem to do is make people</em> un<em>comfortable.' He plucked the compass out of the desk and rapped it impatiently against the chair back. When he resumed speaking, it was in a more civil tone. 'Don't you think you'd do better with the big thinkers in the Harvard unit?'<br /><br />'Sir, the Harvard unit has famous ministers even in its rank and file - men from its own divinity school. They hardly need...'<br /><br />He raised his big meaty hand, as if conceding my point. 'Well, then, since you like the Negroes so very much, have you thought about assisting the army with the problem of the contraband? The need is plain. Ever since Butler opened the gates at Fortress Monroe to these people, we've had hundreds streaming into our lines. They are upon our hands by the fortunes of war, and yet, with war to wage, officers can't be playing wet nurse. If something is not done, why, the army will be drowned in a black tide...'<br /><br />'But, Colonel,' I interrupted, taking a pace forward and putting myself back in his line of sight. 'I know the men in this regiment. I was with them at the camp of instruction; we drilled together. I prayed with them when we got the news of the defeat at Bull Run...'<br /><br />'Good God, man, I don't need to hear a recitation of your entire service...'<br /><br />I kept talking, right over the top of him. 'I've been through defeat with these men, I've been covered in their blood. No other chaplain -'<br /><br />'Silence!' he shouted. He walked over to the window, which opened onto a remarkable prospect of faceted cliffs falling sharply to the crotch of merging rivers. The light was falling and a red glow burnished the surface of the water. He spoke with his face turned toward the view so that he wouldn't have to look at me.<br /><br />'March, I tried to put this kindly, but if you insist on the blunt truth, then you shall have it. I have to tell you that McKillop is lodging a complaint against you, and some of what he plans to put in it is rather...indelicate. I'm not about to pry into your personal affairs. You may be a chaplain, but you're a soldier at war, and a man, and these things happen...'<br /><br />'Colonel, if Captain McKillop has implied...'<br /><br />'March, let me do you a kindness. Do yourself one. Request reassignment to the superintendent of contraband. Who knows? You may be able to do a deal of good there.' "</em> <br /><br />- Geraldine Brooks, 2005Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-21727283369559994752009-02-25T08:31:00.000-08:002009-04-01T08:32:57.888-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 95 - 13 Reasons to Read ShapeShifter: The Demo Tapes Year 1 by Susan Helene Gottfried<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtIhWBWvjd4dJ1PRBORSgDj2-9hJFTjPts49DKNtcUHl0PXJDm-MJVnIn7tdij2mHMpR1A8NKcLgKqdYs2yG2UW_ei7jEewixkQuUfluXp5IFfueQgQlCv9fbWDB5WsBk7uIGgljsmenj/s1600-h/1susan.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtIhWBWvjd4dJ1PRBORSgDj2-9hJFTjPts49DKNtcUHl0PXJDm-MJVnIn7tdij2mHMpR1A8NKcLgKqdYs2yG2UW_ei7jEewixkQuUfluXp5IFfueQgQlCv9fbWDB5WsBk7uIGgljsmenj/s320/1susan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306901859161062546" /></a><br /><a href="http://thursday-13.com/">Thursday Thirteen</a> is back!!! Oh God, how I missed it! When the originators of the original <strong>Thursday Thirteen</strong> put it to bed due to a family illness for one of its creators, I felt its loss in my week like a gaping hole. I continued on with the basic format, renaming my posts <strong>Thursday Thoughts</strong>. I was just getting ready to put together my 8th version of <strong>Thursday Thoughts</strong>, when I discovered to my delirium of joy that <strong>Thursday Thirteen</strong> has been resurrected. Hallelujah!<br /><br />And what timing, as I'm doing a book review for the incomparable <a href="http://blog.westofmars.com/2009/02/18/thursday-thirteen-why-i-do-what-i-do/">Susan Helene Gottfried</a>. I discovered Susan through <strong>Thursday Thirteen</strong>, so this is a real joy to be able to give you <strong>13 Reasons to Read <em>ShapeShifter: The Demo Tapes Year 1</em></strong>. <br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shapeshifter-Demo-Tapes-Year/dp/0557023440/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1235613412&sr=1-1"><em>ShapeShifter: The Demo Tapes Year 1</em></a> is a <a href="http://www.lulu.com/browse/search.php?fTagsSelected=&fSort=&fSearchDataFamily=&fSearchDataQuery=susan+helene+gottfried&additionalFilter=2&fCatId_1=21&fCatId_2=&fCatId_3=&fCatId_6=&fCatId_4=&fCatId_5=&fCatId_7=&fSearchData%5Btitle%5D=&fSearchData%5Bauthor%5D=&reviewsFilter=fAny&fSearchData%5Blang_code%5D=EN&fSearchData%5Bcountry_id%5D=&publishDate=fDateAny&fSubmitSearch.x=10&fSubmitSearch.y=8">Lulu.com</a> publication, under their <strong>Literature & Fiction</strong> category. This novella-length collection of episodic scenes introduces readers to the members of <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=ShapeShifter">ShapeShifter</a>, a metal band hailing from <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=riverview">Riverview</a> on the west coast of the United States.<br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - These scenes originally appeared on Susan's blog <a href="http://blog.westofmars.com/">West of Mars</a> between April 2006 and April 2007. She collected them into <em>The Demo Tapes</em> due to popular demand. Can't beat that! <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - Susan's novel about ShapeShifter is called <em>Trevor's Song</em>, now being shopped to publishers. She began posting scenes about the characters in her novel to share their backstory with her blog readers. It didn't take long before Susan had her very own groupies, clamouring for more, more, more about Trevor and the boys. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=Trevor">Trevor Wolff</a> is by far the readers' favorite. He's the Very Bad Boy of Rock. The band's bass player has an acid sense of humor and a darkly attractive way with the ladies. Who can resist him? No one I have yet to meet... <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - But <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=Mitchell">Mitchell Voss</a> is my personal favorite. He's the white-blonde, long-haired rock god - ShapeShifter's front man. He's also Trevor's best friend from childhood, a childhood that saw Mitchell pulling Trevor from the wreckage of his family and into the security of the Voss home. *swooning now* <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=Daniel">Daniel</a> anchors the band from his drum set, as well as providing charm to the media when Bad Boy Trevor and Rock God Mitchell won't co-operate for the journalists. <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=Eric">Eric</a> plays lead guitar and lavishes long, thoughtful interviews on guitar magazine writers. They provide much-needed stability to balance the drama left in Trevor's and Mitchell's wakes. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - Susan's <strong><em>Demo Tapes</em></strong> begins at the very beginning, with a scene that brings Mitchell and Trevor together for the very first time. Mitchell thought he was just tagging along as an unwanted chaperone on his sister's date. Trevor thought he was checking out a new chick. Neither of them knew their lives would change that day in the lobby of the movie theatre. But a stadium-filling metal band was born the moment they met. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - Each scene works on its own as a brief snapshot from a larger work. <strong><em>The Demo Tapes</em></strong> delivers to readers what a real demo tape does for musicians. Susan shows us her chops. Her world of Riverview and ShapeShifter, the musicians, the road crew, the family relationships, the romantic entanglements - they're as real to me as the stubble on a tour bus morning. Having been a bass player's girlfriend myself, having done my share of lugging amp cords and gear into clubs, I recognize these guys every time I turn the next page. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - I really, really love Susan's dry humor. It shines best when she writes about Trevor.<br /><br /><em>"That didn't surprise Trevor in the least. He</em> knew <em>he was ugly. Trevor Wolff did</em> not <em>blame others for his own issues, thankyouverymuch. Not that being ugly was an issue; issues, you could fix somehow. Ugly, you were just stuck with."</em> <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Susan creates truly distinct POV voices for her female and male characters. Trevor's world view is miles away from <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=Kerri">Kerri</a>, the woman who wins Mitchell's heart from the adoring throng. She gives us Mitchell's middle class mom, dad and sister. We meet the early band groupies game enough to follow Trevor and Mitchell to a rather disreputable hotel. Then there's <a href="http://www.westofmars.com/index.php?id=Val">Val</a>. She's Daniel's main squeeze, a talented chef who is picky about her ingredients, and a total bitch when she wants to be. <br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - The <strong>Thursday Thirteen</strong> format gave Susan a perfect platform to launch hilarious tidbits our way. Even if you'd never encountered a <strong>Thursday Thirteen</strong> before picking up <strong><em>The Demo Tapes</em></strong>, you'd assume a list of thirteen was dreamt up by ShapeShifter themselves, <em>a la</em> David Letterman's Top Ten.<br /><br />This left me in tears of laughter, when I first read it on the blog, and again in <strong><em>The Demo Tapes</em></strong>:<br /><br /><em>"Thirteen Things Mitchell Used to Get the Green Out of His Hair<br /><br />1. Lemon juice <br /><br />2. Mountain Dew<br /><br />3. Coffee <br /><br />4. Milk <br /><br />5. Tea (Might have worked better had they brewed it instead of rubbing wet tea bags on Mitchell's head.)<br /><br />6. Toothpaste (Mitchell smelled minty fresh!)<br /><br />7. Beer (Made it shiny.)<br /><br />8. Honey <br /><br />9. Mayonnaise <br /><br />10. Mustard (What's one more condiment?)<br /><br />11. Orange juice <br /><br />12. Vodka <br /><br />13. Corned Beef (This was Trevor's half-joking solution. At this point, Mitchell figured he had nothing to lose. Including, it turned out, the green.")</em><br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Susan's backstory scenes cover an extensive range, from the boys' teenaged years just forming the band, through their 20's carving a place for themselves gig by gig, and into their prime as stadium rockers. <strong><em>The Demo Tapes</em></strong> gives us a little taste of every era. My personal favorite is their very beginning. Most likely because she's writing about my own high school years. And hits every target, every time. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"The show tonight had been a disaster, there was no sugar-coating it. From the lead singer who fell off the stage and broke his guitar to the drummer putting a stick through the head of his snare and not having a backup handy to the lighting and the sound, there was only one good thing that could be said: not many people had been there. Patterson had counted about twenty, including himself and Sonya.<br /><br />Trevor was, of course, grinning like the night had gone perfectly. For all that boy had been through, Trevor never stopped seeking the joy in life; it was that quality that Patterson had noticed the first time Amy had brought him home. It was that unfailing optimism that had led Patterson to take custody rather than let him face jail time.<br /><br />Mitchell, though, was the opposite. Head down, shoulders slumped. It wasn't unreasonable to think that there'd be no more band come morning.<br /><br />'Son,' Patterson said, trying to be gentle and not startle the boy.<br /><br />It didn't work. Mitchell's head shot up and his eyes widened. 'Oh, hi, Dad,' he said when he recovered. He grimaced. 'You going to rub it in?'<br /><br />'No,' Patterson said slowly, tilting his head at the empty spot on the bumper of his Bronco. As Mitchell sat, Patterson noticed Trevor hovering, just within earshot.<br /><br />Well, Patterson figured, this would be good for Trevor to hear, too. 'Even if I could make it sound good, I wouldn't. You needed a night like this,' he said. 'You needed to know what it feels like to fall on your face.'<br /><br />'What?' Mitchell half-rose to his feet, then caught himself, as if he was suddenly aware of who he was speaking to.<br /><br />'You can't succeed without tasting failure,' Patterson said. 'If you never fail, you never get to find out what you're made of. So. What are you made of, Mitchell?'<br /><br />Mitchell shook his head, his hair shaking and dancing, somehow as dejected as the boy.<br /><br />Trevor tossed his own hair over his shoulder and lit a cigarette as he watched.<br /><br />'Are you tough enough to suck tonight up, learn what you can, and move forward? Or is the band over now that you broke your guitar?'<br /><br />'What am I supposed to play? You can't be a guitar player without a guitar.'<br /><br />'True,' Patterson said. 'Is that the only problem?'<br /><br />Mitchell cocked his head as he thought. 'I've been trying to save up for another one, but it's not doing so well. I had to dig into it to pay for the latest run of t-shirts.'<br /><br />'Not taking your investment back out?'<br /><br />Mitchell shook his head. 'I figured it was worth it. Didn't think this sort of thing would happen.'<br /><br />'But it did, so where do you go from here?'<br /><br />The boy grimaced. 'I figure out how to get a new guitar.'<br /><br />'We'll steal you one if we need to,' Trevor said with a shrug. 'Sorry, Dad. You didn't hear that.'<br /><br />'That's true. I didn't.' Patterson paused, noticing that Trevor had started to fade into the shadows. <br /><br />Mitchell turned to Patterson. 'I want this.'<br /><br />'This?'<br /><br />'The band. A new guitar. Hell, a better guitar.'<br /><br />'Fame, fortune, and all the rest?'<br /><br />Mitchell grinned at his father. 'You betcha.'<br /><br />'Then, son,' Patterson said, turning to him. 'You know what it's going to take to get there.'<br /><br />'Yeah,' Mitchell said, wiping a hand over his face. 'A shitload of work.' He stood up and fumbled in his pocket. 'I'd better get busy. Trev, you ready?'<br /><br />'To do what?' Trevor eyed Mitchell and looked ready to bolt. Patterson bit back a smile. Getting that particular boy to do anything he didn't want to was impossible.<br /><br />'Go home and get some sleep,' Mitchell said, possibly the only thing that Trevor wouldn't rebel against just for the sake of rebelling. 'We need to find me a new guitar.'<br /><br />Patterson held out his hand, palm up. 'I'll drive. You two can start plotting.'<br /><br />With a grin that said it all, Mitchell handed over the keys."</em><br /><br />- Susan Helene Gottfried, 2008Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-61387480911760752392009-02-18T17:16:00.000-08:002011-03-02T19:17:29.468-08:00Thursday Thoughts - 7 - Book Review - Enemy Enchantress by Amy Ruttan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-himUjKtG0bYtJMp3wJzn-GIwum_vEGeKFyFDMD0aaH3xAGroOslGtv-j5THuJmGtjeONpnO4ze0Z_f4VM553Z8IjvyP-EnTR8v90699tQJj2Vl6vj9OR_bciV4mAOJaid6xyygntKuU8/s1600/enemy_enchantress.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 219px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-himUjKtG0bYtJMp3wJzn-GIwum_vEGeKFyFDMD0aaH3xAGroOslGtv-j5THuJmGtjeONpnO4ze0Z_f4VM553Z8IjvyP-EnTR8v90699tQJj2Vl6vj9OR_bciV4mAOJaid6xyygntKuU8/s320/enemy_enchantress.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579678387166223554" /></a><br />This is my third book review for an <a href="http://www.amyruttan.com/about.html">Amy Ruttan</a> latest release. As I just celebrated my second blogiversary on Feb. 5th, this means Amy is smokin' hot when it comes to delivering new goodies to savour. <br /><br />I know. She <em>is</em> amazing.<br /><br /><br />1 - You can check out all her reviews in <a href="http://juliasbookreviews.blogspot.com/">My Book Reviews</a> archive.<br /><br />2 - <a href="http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615721436">Enemy Enchantress</a> is the first book in Amy's three-book <a href="http://www.amyruttan.com/books.html">Enchantress</a> series. In <strong><em>Enemy Enchantress</em></strong>, the heroine is a Anglo-Saxon Age <em>Sidhe</em>, born with one foot in the earthly realm and one in the realm of the fairy folk of yore. Not the tiny fairies we think of today, but a lordly race of otherworldly beings. She knows her kind is losing ground to the new cult of Christianity, and must take care to remain one step ahead of those who would see her burn for witchcraft. Especially when she's turned over to her enemies, the Saxons as a bride for one of their own. <br /><br />3 - Part of <a href="http://www.eternalpress.biz/index.php">Eternal Press</a>'s Fantasy Romance category, <strong><em>Enemy Enchantress</em></strong> gives us a Saxon hero with Norse blood who fights for his king and marries to secure peace with the same unshakable sense of duty. The heroine foresees a Saxon husband in her future, but the hero's tall Viking stature clouds her faith that she's foreseen the truth after all. Could her powers be waning under the force of the Saxon God? <br /><br />4 - <strong><em>Enemy Enchantress</em></strong> is a 200-page novel. As a fan of the 300- to 400-page-length novel personally, a quick read like this just makes me want twice as much. Amy, why do you tease me so...? We won't even get into the 50-page <a href="http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419913761"><em>Masque of Desire</em></a>. That's cruel and unusual punishment... <br /><br />5 - We meet Lord Edwin, loyal fighter for King Alfred in Anglo-Saxon Britain. The Treaty of Wedmore forces Edwin to bow to his king's command. He must take a Mercian bride to foster peace between their people. As he braces himself to couple with whomever he finds chosen for him, Edwin discovers a brilliant, ethereal warrior woman in the woods. He is instantly enchanted by her in every way. <br /><br />6 - Aislinn draws a sacred circle in the forest and prepares to cast a spell, a prayer to guide her. She has been promised in marriage by her father to a Saxon lord. Her private meditations are disturbed by a mesmerizing, dark warrior with icy blue eyes and an unsettling way of looking at her. Why must he fire her blood so? Now that she's laid eyes on him, why must she submit to a man who was an enemy only a heartbeat ago? <br /><br />7 - Amy gets a <strong>Three</strong> heat index from Eternal Press: <em>"Frequent, explicit love scenes described using graphic and direct language."</em> The love scenes are always perfectly intertwined with the storyline. She's a master at keeping character development front and center during every scorchy scene. <br /><br />8 - Amy pulls us into Mercia and Wessex with absolute authority. I haven't felt this at home in one of my favorite time periods since I first opened the pages of Mary Stewart's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Crystal-Cave-Arthurian-Saga-Book/dp/0449911616">The Crystal Cave</a>. Thank you, Amy. *mhua* *mhua* Thank you. <br /><br />9 - Yes, this book has lots of steamy scenes. But it also has sword fights - <em>yes!</em> - witchcraft - *chewing nails nervously* - ancient healing arts - *sitting on the edge of my seat* - political maneuvering between noble houses - *wiping sweat from my brow* - brave individuals entering marriage as a peace offering - *heart breaking for their courage and loyalty* - and main characters in real jeopardy *thud*. All I can say is...thank God there are four more books in this series. <br /><br />10 - Amy really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Edwin’s voice was cold, his eyes dark and full of fire as he glared dangerously at Lord Cedric. 'Lord Cedric, I appreciate your hospitality, and I know you are a well respected thane and my friend, but kindly remove your hands from my wife.'<br /><br />Lord Cedric stared at Edwin, his eyes narrowed as if weighing the options. It seemed like an eternity to Aislinn before he released his grip on her arms.<br /><br />Lord Cedric began to chuckle uneasily. 'Come now, Edwin. Surely it does not matter which Mercian bride you get? I do not mind that you have bedded her and just think, you can have another virgin.'<br /><br />'I am not some chattel to be traded, Lord Cedric,' Aislinn said hotly, finding her voice and her courage again. 'I am married to Lord Edwin and your religion states that a man and wife shall remain married forever, until death do they part.'<br /><br />'Come now, my lady,' Cedric laughed coldly. 'You are a heathen. What do you know of religion? Besides can you honestly say you love Lord Edwin?'<br /><br />No, she could not say that. She didn’t know yet if she loved Edwin. She wanted him, she desired him. He was a respectful man, a great warrior, but did she love him? She didn’t know, and could not answer that. Fortunately Lord Cedric saved her from answering. He took her hand and held it to his chest. She could feel his heart beating.<br /><br />'I will keep you safe and in luxury all your days. I will honor you always.'<br /><br />'Lord Cedric, I am married to Lord Edwin.' Walking away from them, she headed towards the stairwell, hoping that she would be able to find a serf who could direct her to where Edwin and she were staying for the night. She did not look at Edwin as she left. She didn’t want to see his face because she couldn’t express how she felt and she did not want to hear Edwin say that he did not love her either. Even though it was too soon, she knew it would hurt too much if she heard Edwin say it."</em><br /><br />11 - Amy's upcoming <strong><em>Enchantress</em></strong> releases:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615722013"><strong><em>Sorceress From the Sea</em></strong></a>, Book 2<br /><br />Edwin's brother Alfwyn rescues a woman from the sea, only to embark on a passionate adventure with Scottish witch Morag, fighting to escape a demonic warlord and to protect her new love.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615722440"><strong><em>Healer of the Heart</em></strong></a>, Book 3<br /><br />Bridgit of Mercia, a healer, rises above her father's calculated arranged marriage for her to haunted widower Lord Cedric. But can she protect herself from her father's wicked plan to sell her into a second marriage? Or convince Lord Cedric that her betrayal is not of her own doing?<br /><br />12 - Amy also writes for <a href="http://www.jasminejade.com/m-354-amy-ruttan.aspx">Cerridwen Press</a> and <a href="http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=ACRu">Ellora's Cave</a>. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt from <strong><em>Enchantress: The Fey</em></strong>. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Aislinn's hand curled under the pillow and her hair spread around her head like a halo. He walked to the side of the bed and brushed back her silken strand, tucking it back behind her ear.</em><br /><br />By Loki, her ear is pointed. <em>He took a step back when he saw that pointed tip through the red curls.<br /><br />Aislinn stirred and then opened her eyes. She sat up and covered her ears with her hair. She looked panicked, frightened.<br /><br />'What did you see?'<br /><br />'Why are your ears pointed?'<br /><br />Her face fell. '’Tis nothing, my lord.' She waved the question off.<br /><br />He sat down on the bed beside her, taking a delicate hand in his. 'It is not nothing, Aislinn. Are you fey?'<br /><br />She nodded. 'I am</em> Sidhe, <em>an enchantress of the</em> Sidhe. <em>One of the last in this world.'<br /><br />'So that is why the abbot at the monastery said you were a blasphemy.'<br /><br />Her gray eyes flew open in shock. 'You heard that?'<br /><br />'Aye, and I am to say that this,' he again pushed back her hair to reveal her fey ear, 'is the reason he called you an abomination. Being</em> Sidhe <em>is nothing to me. I was worried he found a devil mark or something.'<br /><br />Leaning forward, she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. 'I do have a devil mark you know.'<br /><br />Cocking an eyebrow, he chuckled huskily. 'You do, do you? Well then perhaps I should try to find it.'<br /><br />'Oh please, my lord. That could prove to be quite exhilarating.'<br /><br />Brushing her cheek with his knuckles, he gave her a kiss. 'Good. I look forward to finding this devil’s mark on your person. Now, where can it be? Is it here?' He began to tug at the laces of her nightgown, pushing it down her shoulders.<br /><br />A soft sigh escaped her lips. This would be the first time he would get to really see her naked. Swallowing, he took a steadying breath. He was going to enjoy this. They had not been together since their wedding night, when she had mounted him. How different this would be. He was going to take his time with her and leisurely make love to Aislinn in a comfortable bed.<br /><br />She tried to pull the gown back up her shoulders, but he took it in hand, pulling it off over her head.<br /><br />'Lean back, I need to find this mark.' She smiled at him and laid back against the pillows, naked save for the sheet that covered her from the waist down. Well, he would change that momentarily. He peeled off his tunic. She reached out and ran her fingers down his chest, her touch firing his blood. Her fingers traced over the pale puckered battle scar on the right side of his body.<br /><br />Sucking in a deep breath, she sat up and pushed him down, straddling him against the mattress. The light from the fire licked her body like a lover. Like he wanted to. He ran his hands down the curve of her back to her hips.<br /><br />She leaned over him, her hair brushing his skin. She kissed him and bit his lip playfully. 'Do you see the mark yet?'<br /><br />'Well, I cannot tell with you holding me down.' He quickly sat up, grabbing her wrists and pinned her to the mattress. 'That’s much better. Where should I start to look for the mark, my lady?'<br /><br />She grinned and shrugged. 'Usually the mark is hidden someplace where people do not usually see it.'<br /><br />He began to kiss his way down her body, brushing his lips against her hot skin. He could hear her sighs of pleasure, feel her body tensing under him. 'No, no mark there.' He let go of her wrists and slid further down. 'None here either.'<br /><br />'Sweet Freya,' she cried out. She looked at him, her gray eyes glowing and glazed in passion.<br /><br />He couldn’t remember anyone else he had been with. All he could remember, all he could think of was her. Past dalliances were a blur of meaningless couplings to satisfy an urge. This was something more, something deeper that was beginning to grow and unfurl.<br /><br />She reached out to him. 'Any mark there?'<br /><br />He smiled. 'I did not look.'<br /><br />Leaning over, she kissed him. 'Well, you’re just going to have to check again.'</em><br /><br />- Amy Ruttan, 2009Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-67605027284970807762009-01-28T18:15:00.000-08:002009-02-01T18:19:55.957-08:00Thursday Thoughts - 5 - Book Review - Wanderlust by Shelley Munro<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7qSRqg3XO3usvAnh-8iV1eLqOL6JZLltgtbEsf26OBAXwBLmix5iSa6iE7SV2gEAxYRzNm71tgt59PZNZUlXWF8fvVbKjW6BphoOBSZFFcOepWz2QsoMgNWcVaFBCav8-2JziOgJhNZB/s1600-h/1sm.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 193px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7qSRqg3XO3usvAnh-8iV1eLqOL6JZLltgtbEsf26OBAXwBLmix5iSa6iE7SV2gEAxYRzNm71tgt59PZNZUlXWF8fvVbKjW6BphoOBSZFFcOepWz2QsoMgNWcVaFBCav8-2JziOgJhNZB/s320/1sm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296193051874016290" /></a><br /><br />As I've blogged my way through cyberspace these past two years, I've had the pleasure of meeting several people who I now consider to be friends I have yet to meet in person. <a href="http://www.shelleymunro.com/">Shelley Munro</a> is one of them.<br /><br />1 - Shelley is a fabulous blogger. You can find her at <a href="http://www.shelleymunro.com/blog/">Adventure Into Romance With Shelley Munro</a>. She posts engaging writers'-life commentary without fail, even while she's on a <a href="http://www.shelleymunro.com/blog/2008/09/03/vancouver-island/">mega trek</a> with her intrepid husband for 6 weeks. Not only is she a prolific author - <a href="http://www.shelleymunro.com/books/">32 e-books</a> and counting - not only does she post regularly and unfailingly, but she visits her blog friends faithfully. My heart <em>always</em> brightens when I see her name in my comments page. <br /><br />2 - Shelley also blogs at <a href="http://www.dangerzoneauthors.com/">Danger Zone</a> with:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.deniseagnew.com/author.html">Denise Agnew</a><br /><a href="http://lisefuller.com/bio.html">Lise Fuller</a><br /><a href="http://www.ndhansen-hill.com/">N.D. Hansen-Hill</a><br /><a href="http://www.mariannelacroix.com/bio">Marianne LaCroix</a><br />and <a href="http://charleneleatherman.com/default.aspx">Charlene Leatherman</a><br /><br />3 - <strong><em>Wanderlust</em></strong> is written in first person, and when you keep in mind how much of the world <a href="http://www.shelleymunro.com/photos/index.php?showimage=20">Shelley has seen personally</a>, you'll understand why that was a natural fit for this novel. <br /><br />4 - Part of Cerridwen Press's Romantic Suspense category, <strong><em>Wanderlust</em></strong> gives us a heroine who lives her dreams of travelling the world while keeping a safe distance from her parents, who can't seem to live with or without each other. The hero is a man who gets dangerous jobs done, whatever border needs to be crossed. Even if that border is the line around a woman's heart. <br /><br />5 - We meet Anna Tietjens, a mid-twenties woman who shepherds tourists across overland routes in less-discovered areas like India. It's her birthday, which would be nice to celebrate - but her co-driver has just come down with malaria, more passengers are about to join the tour, including her dear sister who makes her teeth grind at the best of times, several male passengers are convinced they'd make beautiful music with Anna if they refined their come-ons slightly, not to mention having already lost one of her tourists to a fatal accident in Syria. Happy birthday, indeed. <br /><br />6 - Sebastian Brady wisely made his reservation with Wanderlust Adventures under a different name. Otherwise Anna would never have agreed to take him aboard. He knew she relished their passionate rendezvous but kept him at arms' length - which fit in with his line of work rather nicely. Accountants' briefcases being such a fine place to stash guns, and New Delhi so perfect to slide through unnoticed in the marketplaces. <br /><br />7 - Anna's home is always packed with fellow travellers, since she may as well call the modified Mercedes truck she uses for Wanderlust Adventures home.<br /><br />Or she could call it Alice. Which she does. <br /><br />8 - Anna's attraction to Sebastian spikes well out of her comfort zone with his unscheduled appearance. Her parents' miserable track record, and her own insatiable desire to see wildebeest migrating and cheetahs loping turns this tour into an emotional pressure cooker. Especially since this is the first time they've spent so much time upright and clothed in each others' company.<br /><br />9 - One of the passengers suggests a game of murder to play along the route. Which seems like a good idea to a distracted Anna - until the accident victim back in Syria becomes only the first of her passengers to meet with an untimely end. Now murder is far from a movable parlour game. And Anna's mystery lover with the accountants' briefcase might be more than just a surprise booking on her ill-fated overland tour. <br /><br />10 - Shelley really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>" 'You're good at teasing.'<br /><br />'You can talk,' Sebastian said. 'Weren’t you the one who tied my hands so I couldn’t touch you?'<br /><br />Okay, he had me there. I’d done that once in a hotel. 'I didn’t realize this was about payback. Besides, you didn’t stay tied up for long. You freed yourself before I finished.' My knots hadn’t stood up to mercenary training.<br /><br />'You tie knots like a girl,' he said, shaking his head and chuckling at the memory.<br /><br />'In case you haven’t noticed, I am a girl.' I ran my fingers across his nipples until they stood out small and tight. The groan I dragged from him was an added reward. I loved to know I could tease him, get him to react. 'You know what I think?'<br /><br />'Nah, but you’re going to tell me,' he said, his lips quirking in a touch of humor.<br /><br />I grabbed his ears and tugged lightly. 'Smart-ass.'<br /><br />Sebastian laughed. 'Maybe I should make love to you more often.'<br /><br />Yeah, good idea. I thought it, but I didn’t say it. 'Why?'<br /><br />'Keep you under control,' he said. 'You purr like a kitten after we’ve made love.'<br /><br />'I do not.' Indignant, I pulled away.<br /><br />His brows rose but the grin never faded. 'And when we’re not making love, you’re like a wild cat. Unpredictable. I never know how you’re going to react. It makes for an exciting relationship.'<br /><br />My mouth flapped like a fish but wisely I kept my thoughts to myself. We weren’t in a romantic relationship. I didn’t do relationships at all."</em><br /><br />11 - Shelley's personal experience travelling through India gives every moment of this novel an authoritative voice. The noise, the crowds, the colors, the smells, the mannerisms of the locals - everything and everyone is blissfully authentic. <br /><br />12 - <strong><em>Wanderlust</em></strong> has a large cast of characters and a <em>Miss Marple</em> vibe to further complicate the lovers' relationship. This story is as dense and vibrant as the Indian tour stops, while Shelley keeps Anna's romance with Sebastian simmering in the foreground and the suspense storyline humming to the very end. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt from <strong><em>Wanderlust</em></strong>. Enjoy!<br /><br />"<em>We arrived late and set up camp up few miles from the World Heritage-listed Ellora cave temples just before dusk. Even though we were in the middle of nowhere, the bush telegraph worked efficiently and locals appeared, silently slipping up to our newly claimed campsite to watch. By the time we’d set up the tents and the cooks had dragged out the tables and started to prepare the evening meal, there was a semicircle of mainly males watching us intently.<br /><br />'I feel like a goldfish in a bowl,' Elizabeth said. 'Shoo. Shoo! Don’t they have homes to go to?'<br /><br />'Part of the overseas experience is interacting with the local people,' I said.<br /><br />'Maybe yours,' Elizabeth snapped.<br /><br />'Yeah, Elizabeth travels to shop,' Carmichael said, ruffling her hair in an affectionate manner.<br /><br />'There’s nothing wrong with shopping,' Elizabeth said, her tone defensive.<br /><br />'Sweetheart, of course there isn’t.' Jack grinned and reached over to snatch a quick kiss. I watched in fascination when all the fight seeped out of her.<br /><br />'Not when you have two males to carry parcels for you.' Rosa gripped the knife she was using to chop potatoes a little more firmly, her snide tone not carrying past her fellow cooks and me. She used so much force in her chopping that one of pieces shot off the table and hit AJ in the back of the head.<br /><br />'Ow!' she howled, rubbing the back of her head. 'What did you do that for?'<br /><br />'Sorry! I didn’t do it on purpose,' Rosa said.<br /><br />'Oh, oh! She got me.' Elizabeth dropped to the ground in a ladylike swoon. 'I’m dead,' she said before closing her eyes.<br /><br />'I wish,' Rosa snapped. Another potato shot off the table, this one falling to the ground.<br /><br />'I heard that,' Elizabeth said, opening her eyes and extending a hand to both Jack and Carmichael to pull her up. 'I don’t think that’s very nice considering what happened to Guy.'<br /><br />'Oh, and you’d know all about nice,' Rosa sneered.<br /><br />'That’s enough,' I said hastily. The last thing I wanted to deal with tonight was a catfight. 'Do you think it’s a good idea to continue with the murder game?' I asked, in a feeble attempt to change the subject. Murder wasn’t a good topic either.<br /><br />'It’s just a game,' Elizabeth said.<br /><br />'I agree with Anna,' Lloyd said. 'It’s hardly good taste after Guy snuffed it.'<br /><br />I closed my eyes, my heart pounding. Jeez, did he have to put it quite that way?</em> Snuffed it.<br /><br /><em>Rosa tossed her head and the silver blade of the knife flashed in the lights we’d set up so the cooks could see what they were doing. 'Two murders if you count Sam. And of course Antonia, but that was a bit different.'<br /><br />'The trip is cursed,' Suki said. 'That’s obvious.'<br /><br />'Rubbish,' I said. 'That’s superstitious nonsense.'<br /><br />'Maybe it’s a clever advertising ploy on behalf of Wanderlust Adventures,' Lloyd dropped into the sudden silence. <br /><br />'Killing passengers as a publicity stunt?' Stanley asked, his brows shooting upward in disbelief.<br /><br />'Don’t think it will catch on,' Sebastian drawled, his tanned face a picture of lazy humor."</em><br /><br />- Shelley Munro, 2008Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-91595507736983441362009-01-21T08:43:00.000-08:002009-01-27T08:47:02.928-08:00Thursday Thoughts - 4 - Book Review - When a Stranger Loves Me by Julianne MacLean<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQWLuauRwk12Y3JsvGoTE4SRIbzMN9YEye2c1LkchAf3Wg-xaNEjY5Sqfkn34XmCIDu5QYiBrcsa7KLN3nUiNAb1GXNtnevwug8sXtAo76JTrNhvZRBsCW4IG4DMEOCg78NovIJM3GO9C/s1600-h/1waslm.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQWLuauRwk12Y3JsvGoTE4SRIbzMN9YEye2c1LkchAf3Wg-xaNEjY5Sqfkn34XmCIDu5QYiBrcsa7KLN3nUiNAb1GXNtnevwug8sXtAo76JTrNhvZRBsCW4IG4DMEOCg78NovIJM3GO9C/s320/1waslm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293577618377679730" /></a><br /><br />This is my third book review for my cousin's latest release. As I'm nearing my second blogiversary on <strong>Feb. 5th</strong>, this means she's had three books come out in that time.<br /><br />I know. She <em>is</em> amazing.<br /><br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - You can check out all three reviews in <a href="http://juliasbookreviews.blogspot.com/">My Book Reviews</a> archive.<br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - <strong><em>When a Stranger Loves Me</em></strong> is the third book in Julianne's <a href="http://www.juliannemaclean.com/booklist.php">Pembroke Palace</a> series. The hero is part of an English ducal family driven to act by the deranged requirements of the patriarch. The current duke is going mad, and believes a flood will wipe out their ancestral home - unless all four of his sons marry before Christmas. If they fail to find wives in that time, the entire fortune will go to the Horticultural Society. <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - Part of <a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/books/9780061456855/When_a_Stranger_Loves_Me/index.aspx">Avon's Historical Romance</a> category, <strong><em>When a Stranger Loves Me</em></strong> gives us a heroine who tried to follow her own passions as a young woman, was hauled away from her elopement by her prominent father and promptly became <em>the</em> outrageous scandal of London. The hero survives a shipwreck in the English Channel, washing ashore upon the Jersey Island where the heroine has lived in exile. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - We meet Lady Chelsea Campion, a woman whose exile from society turned into the kind of freedom that allowed her to blossom. Chelsea lives in the summer home of her family's estate year round, along with her mother, brother and sister-in-law. Chelsea is deeply attached to her island home. She knows how to read the skies, she knows every ridge and hollow of the island, and spends her days crafting stories. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - Luckily for the hero, Chelsea takes a walk along the shore after a wild storm, ending up in the sea caves. There she finds an unconscious naked man thrown onto the jagged rocks. When he finally awakes, it is only to discover he can remember nothing of how he got there. Not the circumstances of his discovery, not any circumstances - he has no memory of anything that happened before he was discovered in the cave. Including his own identity. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - Chelsea dubs him Jack so he can have a name, at least. Jack's abilities remain intact - his aristocratic manners, his knack of tying a cravat and especially his exceptional talent for drawing. Among other pastimes, Chelsea and Jack spend many fulfilling hours while she writes and Jack sketches. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - But at night, Chelsea joins him in his room, giving in to the frightening passion she feels for this complete stranger. For he may not know who he is, but Jack can see inside of Chelsea in a way no one else has ever done - not even the lover she'd tried to marry before her family put a stop to it. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - Jack tells Chelsea she is his whole world now - the only person who knows him in a world he can't recall. But the gnawing sensation of letting someone down, of something urgent that needs him to act intrudes upon his Jersey Island idyll. And why can't he remember being stabbed? When Chelsea found him in the cave, he was bleeding from a puncture wound. Was it simply from the shipwreck? Or did someone want him dead?<br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - A thread of rebellion against the weight of duty runs strongly throughout this book. Charged with being the reason for her family's exile, Chelsea feels compelled to bear the burden of her loved ones' future, with her father passed on and a marriage proposal made by a man willing to overlook her ruination. Is it so wrong to allow herself a few days of pleasure with a stranger before shackling herself to Lord Carruthers?<br /><br />As for Jack - why does his heart sink when he's finally located by his family? Why must he leave Chelsea behind and face the crushing expectations of 'loved ones' for whom he has no feelings? <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Julianne really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Chelsea sat for a long time, listening to the steady ticking of the clock on the mantel and the constant murmur of the sea. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and outside the window, high in the sky, the stars appeared, one by one.<br /><br />Rising to her feet, she strolled to the bedside, put a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, then leaned over the man. He would no doubt be very weak when he opened his eyes, perhaps too weak to even speak.<br /><br />Feeling a sudden wave of compassion for his suffering, she laid her open hand upon his forearm. Gently, with the tip of her finger, she traced a path around all the little scrapes and cuts, as if she were following a maze. He was warm to her touch, but so very still and lifeless.<br /><br />Her eyes traveled down the length of his body. She could see the outline of his firm torso and long legs, and remembered again his naked form in the cave. Her belly swirled with fascination and arousal, which shamed her for a moment, until she remembered that she was a flesh and blood woman - a woman who had once known passion and desire for a brief time before this seven-year exile. There was a time she'd wanted nothing more than to know a man's body, and to be made love to by someone she adored.<br /><br />Suddenly, without warning, the man's arm snapped up. He grabbed her wrist.<br /><br />Panic flared in her stomach. She gasped, but before she could even comprehend the pain in her arm, he was scrambling out of the bed like a wild animal, coming at her with raging fury in his eyes.<br /><br />She screamed as he threw her to the floor. Her head hit the rug and she squeezed her eyes shut. All the air sailed out of her lungs.<br /><br />The man pinned her down, tossed a leg over her hips and straddled her. When she opened her eyes, he was sitting on top of her, holding a brass candlestick over his head. It gleamed in the firelight, just like the ferocity in his wild blue eyes.</em><br /><br />'Aaah!' <em>he yelled as he drew the weapon back and swung."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - As always, Julianne excels at the dialogue between her hero and heroine. Julianne never fails to take a scene I think is going in one direction - and then flips it on its ear. She's the master of getting to the deeper emotions between lovers. Their raw feelings create true conflict, twisting the reader's heart into the same knots as the lovers'. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Julianne moves to <a href="http://us.macmillan.com/smp/categories/General/Romance">St. Martin's Press</a> for her next release. Here's her announcement on her website:<br /><br /><em>"Julianne just accepted a three book deal to write for <strong>St. Martins Press</strong>. The contract is for a historical romance trilogy set in the Scottish Highlands. Release dates to be announced soon!"</em><br /><br />She's wearing her fingers out at the keyboard on the first of the trilogy. My writers' chapter already got a sneak peek at the opening scene. Ladies, this is a hero to die for. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt from <strong><em>When a Stranger Loves Me</em></strong>. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>" 'So you've forgiven me, then?' Jack asked as he refastened his trousers.<br /><br />They had made love standing up against the door of his bedchamber. She had not seemed to mind the base carnality of it, nor suggested they move to a quieter spot on the bed. Perhaps she knew there was no one nearby to hear, for clearly she'd come here with one thing on her mind, and they got down to business without any of the usual genteel preliminaries. <br /><br />He nuzzled her cheek and stepped back. Chelsea pushed away from the door.<br /><br />'We already agreed that there is nothing to forgive,' she said. 'You were right when we spoke outside earlier today. You have not kept anything from me. I knew what I was getting myself into when I came to you the other night, and I have indeed been more than satisfied.'<br /><br />He watched her for a strange moment, as she walked seductively to the window.<br /><br />'But there is something different about you,' he said, narrowing his eyes. 'You're closed off. You're not acting like yourself.'<br /><br />'That's ridiculous.'<br /><br />'Is it? I think you are still angry about what happened in bed this morning.' He hesitated. 'Or perhaps...</em> hurt.'<br /><br /><em>'I am neither,' she quickly asserted as she pulled the curtain aside with one finger and looked out. 'I am simply trying to be realistic.'<br /><br />'How so?'<br /><br />She faced him. He had the distinct impression she was giving a great deal of consideration to her answer, almost as if she were plotting one of her stories, deciding upon the most effective piece of dialogue for her protagonist. <br /><br />'I don't want to become too attached to you,' she said at last. <br /><br />He studied her eyes and saw a hint of vulnerability there, mixed possibly with some melancholy.<br /><br />But it was an honest answer - at least he believed it to be so - and it gave him some reassurance that he had not lost her completely. She was still being open with him.<br /><br />He approached her. 'And is there a danger of you becoming too attached?'<br /><br />'There is a danger of anything. You are very pleasant to be around.</em> Most <em>of the time,' she added playfully.<br /><br />'When I am not calling you by other women's names, I suppose.'<br /><br />'Precisely.'<br /><br />'I'll try not to do it again.'<br /><br />'I would appreciate that.'<br /><br />For a moment more they stood without talking, merely looking at each other while the waves rolled up onto the shoreline outside the window. Here in the room, the clock ticked steadily on the mantel.<br /><br />Jack noticed the heavy beat of his heart. He felt restless, filled with a yearning that seemed to have no cure - for he could not close the space between them. How could he, when he did not know who he was, or if he was even free to care for her the way he wanted to?<br /><br />Then, for some unknown reason, he remembered the urgency he'd felt the night before, and felt again that he was letting someone down. The feeling dropped into his stomach like a stone. Someone needed him. Of that, he was certain. There was a duty he was expected to fulfill.<br /><br />God,</em> was <em>there a wife? <br /><br />He looked down at the floor.<br /><br />'So until we know more about you,' Chelsea said, her voice more forceful now, almost as if she had read his thoughts, 'I will simply keep my heart out of it, as you should do as well.'<br /><br />'That's probably wise,' he heard himself saying, without looking up, because he was not in a position to offer his heart, or any kind of promise that involved the future. As things stood, he could offer Chelsea nothing, and she knew it." </em><br /><br />- Julianne MacLean, 2009<br /><br /><br />Join me next week when I review <strong><em>Wanderlust</em></strong> by Shelley Munro.Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-73845135534736749312008-12-10T18:43:00.000-08:002009-01-12T18:44:21.864-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 85 - 13 Reasons to Read The Dangerous Duke by Christine Wells<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJW0TDW7OB0UXFNAXkcTfCTeIh90j05k8UbmlQi-zmXQQ2BzLcm2ehYYBefSXNB0JW2XLyYNg7eDygO7AUFRYpuoSc7A5dO-QSUpZ_6nucmYXf5DLvGEBceRFExK9o1ea2Au_GjoK6VOlA/s1600-h/1dd.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 201px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJW0TDW7OB0UXFNAXkcTfCTeIh90j05k8UbmlQi-zmXQQ2BzLcm2ehYYBefSXNB0JW2XLyYNg7eDygO7AUFRYpuoSc7A5dO-QSUpZ_6nucmYXf5DLvGEBceRFExK9o1ea2Au_GjoK6VOlA/s320/1dd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277969021084538898" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />As many of you have discovered by now, I seem to have an angel on my shoulder when it comes to winning books. At the book draws held by my RWA chapter, at blog contests - my name comes up and the books come to me. This latest book was won from a contest held at <a href="http://missmakeamovie.blogspot.com/2008/09/duchess.html"><strong>missmakeamovie</strong></a>, a group blog where <a href="http://www.christine-wells.com/">Christine Wells</a> and I both contribute.<br /><br />1 - Christine also blogs at <a href="http://romancebandits.blogspot.com/">Romance Bandits</a>, a 20-member group blog which includes these authors:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.jeannepadams.com/books.php">Jeanne Adams</a><br /><a href="http://bethandrews.net/books/">Beth Andrews</a><br /><a href="http://www.annacampbell.info/books.html">Anna Campbell</a><br /><a href="http://www.christiekelley.com/">Christie Kelley</a><br /><a href="http://www.donnamacmeans.com/Books.html">Donna MacMeans</a><br /><a href="http://www.loucindamcgary.com/books-by-loucinda-mcgary.html">Loucinda McGary</a><br /><a href="http://www.trishmilburn.com/books/">Trish Milburn</a><br /><a href="http://blog.tawnyweber.com/bookshelf">Tawny Weber</a> <br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0425223264/ref=cm_plog_item_link"><em>The Dangerous Duke</em></a> is Christine's second release.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Scandals-Daughter-Berkley-Sensation-Christine/dp/0425218325"><em>Scandal's Daughter</em></a> was released in 2007. <br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - Part of <a href="http://berkleyjoveauthors.com/author273">Berkley Sensation</a>'s Historical Romance category, <strong><em>The Dangerous Duke</em></strong> gives us a heroine whose brother, a stubbornly idealistic vicar, is held prisoner for failing to divulge the names of men who burned down the home of the Duke of Lyle, along with three heirs to that title. The hero is the newest duke, never thinking he'd inherit, being so far down the line. <br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - We meet <strong>Lady Kate Fairchild</strong>, radiant widow of a man who disapproved of a woman admitting to a sexual appetite. To keep her desires in check, Kate wrote a diary about a phantom lover, and poured all her yearning into a delectable journal meant for her eyes only. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - <strong>Maxwell Brooke, Duke of Lyle</strong> begins his new role by hunting down the men responsible. More equipped for this job than most, Max has been working in secret for the Home Office for years, taking care of the King's business with lethal efficiency. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - Lyle procures Kate's diary - written in Italian to safeguard its contents from prying eyes, and hands it to his sister Louisa to translate. It is not the memoirs with which Lady Kate has threatened the government, however. Louisa translates instead a tale from Lady Kate's most erotic imagination.<br /><br />Christine uses lines from Lady Kate's diary to open each chapter. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - Here's the opening to Chapter Ten:<br /><br /><em>"I could gaze on him for eternity, but where is the joy in only looking? A statue would do as well.<br /><br />I'd no idea a man's skin could be so soft..."</em><br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - Christine includes a very charged secondary romance between Lyle's sister, Louisa and his fellow Home Office operative, Jardine. Lyle and Jardine have been rivals as well as working together as spies for the security of the country. Their relationship circles like arena combatants, and the romance between Lyle's sister and Jardine is just as edgy. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - Lady Kate's uneasy sexual relationship with her late husband runs a thread of claiming one's own erotic nature into <strong><em>The Dangerous Duke</em></strong>. Her husband Hector had disapproved of Kate displaying any sort of sexual appetite. As she and Lyle's relationship develops, Kate must confront the dichotomy of the expected demeanor of a lady, and the reality of her true desires. <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Christine really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>"Ordering a duke to fetch and carry for her was perhaps equal in insolence to his own conduct. As a duke, he might be affronted; as a gentlemen, he must accede to her wishes. It was the oldest trick in the book to get rid of a man, but sometimes simple maneuvers proved the most effective.<br /><br />He took the order without a blink. 'It would be my pleasure, Lady Kate.'<br /><br />Stupidly, Kate was disappointed. He was going to give in as easily as that? She'd thought him a worthier foe.<br /><br />But the duke did not take a step towards the supper room. A slight lift of his finger and one of her tiresomely efficient footmen materialized at his elbow.<br /><br />Without taking his gaze from her face, the duke murmured, 'Fetch your mistress a glass of water, will you, Arnold?'<br /><br />She started at his use of the footman's name. 'How - ' No. She would not give him the satisfaction of voicing her surprise. A chill skittered down her spine. How did he know so much?<br /><br />Kate glanced at Sidmouth, who looked a trifle bemused at their byplay. She would not give up. She must find a way to see him alone before he left the ball. There would be no other opportunity to speak with him privately without causing gossip.<br /><br />The orchestra struck up a waltz. She'd almost forgotten she'd instructed them to do so. She must not let the duke throw her off balance like this.<br /><br />Doing her utmost to ignore Lyle's disturbing presence, she turned the full brilliance of her smile on the Home Secretary. 'Oh, how fortunate! I do love to dance the waltz. Dear Lord Sid - '<br /><br />A hard, masculine arm clamped around her waist and swung her into the dance."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - I really enjoyed the spy elements in this book. I'm a huge fan of <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/spooks/">MI-5</a> and loved the scenes between Lyle, Jardine and the head of operations. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Christine has a sexy new Regency in the wings, <strong><em>Indecent Proposal</em></strong> - a future release from <strong>Berkley Sensation</strong>. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with an excerpt from <strong><em>The Dangerous Duke</em></strong>. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Should she believe him when he said she was in danger? He couldn't be so uncertain of his talents as to think he needed to steal her away to seduce her. An unpleasant fluttering in her stomach made her take a sharp breath. At least she would not be so foolish as to succumb to him again.<br /><br />She glanced up briefly from her bread and butter and saw him watching her with that curious cold fire in his eyes. It was a struggle to smile at him and appear unconcerned, as if that heated encounter after the ball hadn't occurred.<br /><br />Lowering her gaze, she took a swift sip of coffee. She gulped and fought the urge to choke. The hot slurry burned its way down her throat; she felt its heat all the way to her uneasy stomach.<br /><br />'Is the coffee to your taste, Lady Kate?'<br /><br />Her eyes watered with the effort of suppressing a cough, but she managed it. 'Oh, yes. Very, er...pleasant.'<br /><br />Kate was renowned for never losing her aplomb, even in the most fraught situations. For some reason, it had become a point of honor with her to remain in complete control of herself when the duke was near.<br /><br />Defiantly, she took another painful sip of the brew.<br /><br />'You like George's coffee?' He lifted his mug to scrutinize its contents. 'How extraordinary. I find it almost undrinkable, but unfortunately I've had to make do with his services on this journey. The man's culinary skill scarcely compares with his discretion, but the latter is far more valuable to us at present.'<br /><br />Kate cleared her throat. 'Where are you taking me?'<br /><br />'To a hunting box in the shires. An almost forgotten part of my holdings. My great-grandfather was never fond of hunting, so he leased the house each season. This time, it will be leased to us, a Mr. and Mrs. John Wetherby.'<br /><br />Husband and wife? She ought to have known he would try a trick like that. 'Why not say we are brother and sister?' she said evenly. 'It would make more sense.'<br /><br />A gleam in his eye told her not to push the matter any further. Swiftly, she changed the subject. 'You don't look at all like plain Mr. Wetherby.'<br /><br />An inscrutable expression came over his face. 'And yet, a bare fortnight ago I was plain Mr. Brooke.'<br /><br />She gave a wry smile. 'Somehow, I doubt anyone would describe you as plain, whether you were a commoner or a duke.'<br /><br />There was an arrested look in his eyes. He glanced away. 'It hardly matters. At this season, we're unlikely to be troubled with neighbors.'<br /><br />He smiled, returning his gaze to hers. 'In fact, we will be quite alone.'<br /><br />***<br /><br />'I can't make out where we are,' she said, peering through the travel-grimed window at the scenery.<br /><br />'We're in Leicestershire. It's probably best you don't know exactly where,' said the duke indifferently.<br /><br />How she wanted to hit him! She turned her head to look at his straight-nosed profile. 'Best for whom?'<br /><br />'For me, of course. Your ignorance will hinder you if you try again to escape.'<br /><br />'There's plain speaking! I mean to wait before I attempt another mad dash for freedom. So for the moment, we may both rest easy.'<br /><br />A gleam stole into his eyes. 'Somehow, I doubt I shall</em> rest easy <em>tonight.'<br /><br />'Oh?' She raised her brows, pretending innocence. 'I would have thought you'd be fatigued from the journey. I know I shall sleep like the dead.'<br /><br />Before she knew what he was about, he took her chin in hand, tilting her face to the light. 'Almost, I am convinced,' he said. 'And yet, you've behaved like a cat on hot bricks since we left the cottage.' He smiled. 'Tell me - ' He smoothed a stray curl behind her ear. 'Do you think I'm going to ravish you in a moving vehicle?'<br /><br />Most of the air left her lungs. She forced out, 'On past experience, I should say it's very likely.' Her skin tingled where his fingers brushed it. Why wasn't he wearing gloves?<br /><br />'But so uncomfortable,' he replied, withdrawing his hand with a faint smile at the reaction she hadn't been able to hide. 'Unnecessary, too, when all the delights of a soft bed and a cozy fire await us. Perhaps even some decent coffee. A hot bath...'<br /><br />She shivered. Mr. and Mrs. Wetherby. Oh yes, he knew what he was about. <br /><br />The duke's character couldn't be further from that of the considerate lover who pleasured her so sweetly between the pages of her journal. What Lyle wanted, he took. Would he even care how much pleasure he gave?<br /><br />No. She would</em> not <em>speculate about how adept a lover Lyle might be. She'd no ambition to become his mistress.<br /><br />'I beg your pardon?' The duke's deep voice interrupted her thoughts.<br /><br />She blinked. 'Nothing. I didn't say anything.'<br /><br />'On the contrary. You snorted.' "</em><br /><br />- Christine Wells, 2008Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-28120781315658084862008-12-03T18:36:00.000-08:002009-01-12T18:40:06.975-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 84 - 13 Reasons to Read Broken Wing by Judith James<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQfvJ_j_EKl-c3F3TwFhNRtc3mjRu5IF3s3rhyiC7GfL8saap5pxbnu4spJITCWxVYrcRaMi8nJUfN69UB8B5lKEFMPS_Y1s7yxTO4DkHqM0JLX5OP2CxXB6JDUY5F-bKF4gDtjNmIhBM/s1600-h/51vLYwrCzgL__SS500_.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQfvJ_j_EKl-c3F3TwFhNRtc3mjRu5IF3s3rhyiC7GfL8saap5pxbnu4spJITCWxVYrcRaMi8nJUfN69UB8B5lKEFMPS_Y1s7yxTO4DkHqM0JLX5OP2CxXB6JDUY5F-bKF4gDtjNmIhBM/s320/51vLYwrCzgL__SS500_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275783524485853730" /></a><br />For today's <strong>Thursday Thirteen</strong>, I'm reviewing an instant favorite/forever keeper written by a new breakout author - and a debut one, at that. Not only did her first book receive 4 1/2 stars from <a href="http://www.romantictimes.com/books_review.php?book=36721"><em>Romantic Times</em></a>, but it got this review from <a href="http://www.publishersweekly.com/"><em>Publisher's Weekly</em></a>:<br /><br /><em>"The Napoleonic era comes brilliantly alive in James's debut adventure romance. The pace never falters... The extensive historical detail goes a long way, but Sarah and Gabriel's heart-wrenching struggle to keep their love alive is what will really keep readers entranced throughout this epic read."</em> <br /><br /><strong>1</strong> - <a href="http://www.medallionpress.com/authors/james.html">Judith James</a> is a fellow <a href="http://www.romancewritersac.com/">Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada</a> chapter mate. Have I mentioned how much I look forward to our monthly lunch-and-meeting combo? And Judith has been someone who makes the lunch absolutely fly by when she sits across from me.<br /><br /><strong>2</strong> - Judith is part of a group blog which will be launching in the very near future. <a href="http://hoydensandfirebrands.blogspot.com/">Hoydens and Firebrands</a> will explore the world of the 17th century and features authors:<br /><a href="http://www.anitadavison.com/">Anita Davison</a><br /><a href="http://www.sandragulland.com/">Sandra Gulland</a><br /><a href="http://www.kimmurphy.net/">Kim Murphy</a><br /><a href="http://www.marysharratt.com/">Mary Sharratt</a><br /><a href="http://www.alisonstuart.com/">Alison Stuart</a> and<br /><a href="http://wondersandmarvelsmessages.blogspot.com/">Holly Tucker</a> as well as Judith.<br /><br /><strong>3</strong> - Having worked as a counselor for 15 years, Judith has a special dedication at the front of her book:<br /><br /><em>"This book is dedicated to the lost boys. God bless them. May they all find a place to belong, and someone to love them as they deserve."</em> - Judith James<br /><br /><strong>4</strong> - <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Broken-Wing-Judith-James/dp/193383644X"><em>Broken Wing</em></a> is a <a href="http://www.medallionpress.com/blurbs/brokenWing.html">Medallion Press</a> release under the <strong>Jewel Imprint: Sapphire</strong> Historical Romance category. Set at the turn of the 19th century, just after the French Revolution and during Napoleon Bonaparte's rise to power, Judith's novel rides the changing tides of the power structure of Europe. Her two main characters echo this sense of tightrope-walking, indefinable and mercurial. <br /><br /><strong>5</strong> - We meet Sarah, Lady Munroe, as unconventional a young widow as ever sailed the seas in men's clothing, alongside her privateering cousin Davey. Back on land and in gowns befitting her station, she travels to Paris with her older brother Ross to claim her younger brother Jamie, long held prisoner in an upscale brothel. <br /><br /><strong>6</strong> - Gabriel St. Croix was dropped off at the doorstep of Madame Etienne's discreet establishment when he was a very small boy. His beauty makes him a favorite of every depraved customer who frequents the brothel he calls home. Grown to manhood, he feels dead inside - until the arrival of another young boy (Sarah's brother Jamie) awakens a desire to spare an innocent from facing his own fate. Jamie keeps a spark alive inside of Gabriel. When news arrives that the boy's family has finally located him, and is coming to take him home, all that's left of Gabriel's heart crushes to pieces inside of him. <br /><br /><strong>7</strong> - Judith's previous career as a counselor gave her a deep understanding of the confusing array of emotions swirling inside survivors of childhood sexual and physical abuse. Her portrayal of Gabriel rings with authenticity and shoots off into unpredictable directions.<br /><br />What's also refreshing is Judith's portrayal of Sarah. She often surprises Gabriel with her reactions to him and his behavior. Though her actions and words make absolute sense to the reader, they still have a sense of originality that infuses every scene with discovery. We have <em>not</em> been down Judith's road before. <br /><br /><strong>8</strong> - I especially appreciated the darker undertones to Judith's book. When it comes to tortured heroes, I'm rather gothic. I really want him to suffer. I want my heart to be crushed into tiny shards for him.<br /><br />Gabriel is so perfect for me, it's scary. <br /><br /><strong>9</strong> - Something I rejoice! Rejoice! in are the ways Judith flies in the face of most historical romance convention. As far as romance novels go, I'm historical-romance oriented. And as far as historical romances are concerned, I really only read the unconventional ones. There aren't really that many of them, to be honest. Judith's book takes me to all the places the major romance publishers would never dare to go.<br /><br />All the things that make Judith's book work are things for which the major houses would have requested rewrites. But do most conventional historicals get a stunning review from <em>Publishers' Weekly</em>? <br /><br /><strong>10</strong> - Judith really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br /><em>" 'You're drunk!'<br /><br />'Completely foxed,' he agreed with a genial grin.<br /><br />'How did you get in here?'<br /><br />He crooked a finger toward the balcony. 'Tree.'<br /><br />'What's wrong?' she asked gently.<br /><br />'A bad dream,' he said tiredly. 'Nothing more.'<br /><br />'Well, now that you're here, why don't you tell me about it? It might help you sleep.'<br /><br />'Christ, woman, I came here for some peace, to escape it, not to wallow in it!' He pulled himself to his feet. This had clearly been a mistake.<br /><br />'You don't honestly think you can escape it by ignoring it, or running away, do you?'<br /><br />No, he'd never thought that. Only hoped. He'd hoped he might escape for awhile, by running to her, and hoping was the thing that would destroy him in the end. He knew it. He turned, glaring at her in the dark. 'Shall I tell you then, Sarah? Do you really want to know? Would you like to know what I was doing the night before you and your saintly brother arrived at Madame Etienne's?'<br /><br />Her silence drove him on.<br /><br />'I was auctioned off that night, my services for the evening, to the highest bidder. I did my best to appeal, as half the proceeds were mine to keep. I was a very valuable asset there, you know. I'm surprised she released me.'<br /><br />He stalked toward her, his body tense, vibrating. His voice became cooler, deliberately seductive and compelling. 'It was a husband and wife, or a man and his mistress, a playful pair. I was the wicked footman' - despite his obvious tension, his voice sounded amused - 'burning with lust for my haughty countess. I was...tasting her, pleasuring her, a thing I'm very good at, when her husband arrived, catching us in the act. Naturally he was furious and determined to punish us both. I, the insolent servant, was taught to regret my impertinence by being bound to the bed and whipped by his lordship as his lady knelt between his legs. Fortunately, she was thorough enough that he was not inclined to complete his amorous designs upon my person.'<br /><br />Silence. It continued unabated, except for their breathing. He knew he'd shocked her, had strangled something delicate that had been growing between them, and he wasn't done yet. 'And do you know what else, my dear?' he asked, his voice mocking. 'I thoroughly enjoyed it.' He wasn't sure what he expected from her - horror, condemnation and disgust, certainly not a reply as cool and detached as his own.<br /><br />'Well, now, if you'd enjoyed it, it wouldn't be giving you nightmares, would it?'<br /><br />Rage blasted through him, demolishing years of hard-won control. The bottle flew from his hand, shattering in the corner as a distant part of his brain noted that broken glass was becoming a habit, a different form of comfort. Damn her! Damn her! He took a ragged breath, then another, clenching his fists, refusing to look at her lest she provoke him to further violence. Stiffly he turned toward the balcony and disappeared into the night."</em><br /><br /><strong>11</strong> - Judith doesn't shy away from the emotional pain of surviving abuse. If that seems too edgy and harsh for a romance novel, to me it makes the healing power of love all the more precious and deeply moving. Though Madame Etienne's most valuable prostitute is undeniably, smoulderingly attractive, and Sarah herself knows how to fill out a pair of men's breeches as well as a frock, the true draw for these characters is their internal thoughts and feelings. Knowing what Gabriel thinks before he acts makes him utterly compelling, and there's no way to resist falling hard for him as a reader. <br /><br /><strong>12</strong> - Though the characters' internal landscapes are vividly drawn and rich with authenticity, Judith doesn't scrimp on serving up a rollicking story. She takes us to locales that dare to exist beyond the confines of the English ton. The plot slices along like a rapier, and the cast of secondary characters is so vivid and solid you'll wonder how she managed to pack so much into one novel. <br /><br /><strong>13</strong> - I leave you with a final excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>"Sarah waited, anxious and eager to have Gabriel to herself. Everything had changed. There was no pretending they were only friends anymore. She longed for, and dreaded, his touch, knowing it would take her past all restraint, to a place from which there was no turning back.<br /><br />The more she wanted him, the more she feared that if they crossed that tempting border, there would be heartache on the other side. She worried that what he needed was a friend, not a lover, and feared he would come to see her as another in a long line of people who had used him. She feared their friendship would be destroyed, and where there'd been something lovely, there would be only bitterness, disillusionment and regret.<br /><br />She'd also been struck, seeing him at the docks, tanned and fit, his dark hair streaked with sunlight and his eyes sparkling with excitement, at how beautiful he was. He could have any woman he wanted. If his life had been different, would he have ever chosen someone like her; a disreputable, opinionated, eccentric widow; large boned, far too tall and careless of her appearance? It hardly seemed likely.<br /><br />Her musings were interrupted by his appearance on her balcony. He stood, framed in the moonlight. An early spring breeze teased his hair, and his eyes sparked with heat and hunger. Her gaze traveled from his eyes to his mouth, to his torso, taut and sleek, his stomach ridged with muscle, his skin alabaster in the moonlight. She groaned in frustration. No woman should be so tempted. He grinned and stepped into the room.<br /><br />He crossed to her bed without a word, and slid in beside her, gathering her into his arms. He'd meant to tell her he loved her. He'd meant to thank her for the gift, but the moment her arms reached around his neck, he forgot all his carefully planned words and lowered his mouth to hers in a feverish kiss.<br /><br />Sarah clutched at his hair, pulling him close, deepening her kiss. She shivered in anticipation as his fingertips began to trace her collarbone, sending delicious frissons of pleasure singing along her nerves. She gasped in white-hot pleasure when his lazy tongue rasped wet and hot against her, thrilling her to her core. He looked straight into her eyes, the question clear.<br /><br />She closed her eyes, trying to gather her tattered wits, stunned by the riotous feelings coursing through her. She'd known no pleasure from her husband, and felt overwhelmed by the wild sensations she was experiencing now. It was too powerful. It was happening too fast. Shifting her weight, she pushed him away. 'Enough, Gabriel, please. We...I...I think we should stop.'<br /><br />'I'm sorry,' he said, drawing back. 'I thought...clearly, I misunderstood.'<br /><br />Stricken by the look of hurt in his eyes, she reached out to pull him back, but he was already up, preparing to leave. 'Gabriel, don't!'<br /><br />'Don't what? Don't kiss you? Don't touch you? I can't help it, Sarah. I think about it all the time. Christ! I can't keep doing this!'<br /><br />'Please, just listen. Try to understand.'<br /><br />'I do understand. I've just reminded you of what I am, a jaded, greedy whore. You've been kind to me, indulged me, though I cannot imagine why, but there are limits. The idea of being touched by me that way, knowing what I am, must disgust you.'<br /><br />'Stop it! I hate when you speak like that! That's not at all what I meant!'<br /><br />'My apologies,' he said, his voice flat and cold. He turned to go, but she leapt from the bed, blocking his path.<br /><br />'Gabriel, wait, please! For all the times I've listened to you, will you not hear me out?'<br /><br />The look he gave her was resentful and cold, but he ceded her the door and went to sprawl ungraciously on the window seat. 'I am listening, mignonne,' he said, his voice remote."</em><br /><br />- Judith James, 2008<br /><br />Please join me next week when I review Christine Wells' <em>The Dangerous Duke</emJulia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-41018524908200421612008-08-27T18:26:00.000-07:002009-01-12T18:31:10.405-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 70 - 13 Reasons to Read Love Thy Neighbor by Amy Ruttan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrh_ZDNw3oB-dRMAL2G84w25qAiGKXicEVMaECB6KxEW5hebkBV_hUeNT2Q7xlbZgraXOJ2MqTrHBlbWt_vt1QV1p4h3ZgwpQhPkXTsmNGfEtS42-b6SLIlmSDEc1cqd4oXnsacOE0z1K/s1600-h/1LoveThyNeighbor.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrh_ZDNw3oB-dRMAL2G84w25qAiGKXicEVMaECB6KxEW5hebkBV_hUeNT2Q7xlbZgraXOJ2MqTrHBlbWt_vt1QV1p4h3ZgwpQhPkXTsmNGfEtS42-b6SLIlmSDEc1cqd4oXnsacOE0z1K/s320/1LoveThyNeighbor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239245499797676498" /></a><br />I'm thrilled to review this latest <a href="http://www.amyruttan.com/about.shtml">Amy Ruttan</a> release. She's now working on an historical/paranormal series for <a href="http://www.lindenbayromance.com/index.html">Linden Bay Romance</a> that the phrase <em>'I'm dying to get my hands on'</em> barely describes. <br /><br />1 - Amy is also the author of <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2008/06/thursday-thirteen-60-13-reasons-to-read.html">Fox's Bride</a>, an historical set in 1720's Jamaica and <a href="http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419913761">Masque of Desire</a>, a contemporary paranormal which takes place on a southern plantation. <br /><br />2 - She's one of six talented erotic romance writers who blog at <a href="http://sixdegreesofsexy.blogspot.com/">6 Degrees of Sexy</a>. All six women write for <a href="http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419916137">Ellora's Cave</a> as well as for <strong>Cerridwen Press</strong>, <strong>Liquid Silver Books</strong>, <strong>Loose Id</strong> and <strong>Samhain Publishing</strong>. <br /><br />3 - <strong><em>Love Thy Neighbor</em></strong> is part of the <strong>Ellora's Cave</strong> <em>Oh Yum!</em> series, featuring older women, younger men and lots of yum. The older woman here is a fabulous 40, while the younger man is a smart, ambitious 25-year-old.<br /><br />4 - Beverly Robins moved into a beautiful home in Deerpark, Illinois two years ago with her husband, a former jock turned corporate suit. The day she saw the house with the real estate agent, she'd caught her first glimpse of the hunky son of the couple next door. The hunky brainiac son who'd just graduated Harvard Law - the type of guy she'd always admired from afar in college while dating jocks like the other girls from her social set. <br /><br />5 - David Craig moved to Boston and a junior position at a law firm after graduation, but no amount of willing women could ever take his mind off of Ms. Robins. His parents' gorgeous neighbor was the real reason he'd never been home for a visit. But his sister's upcoming wedding was something he couldn't miss. And Ms. Robins was on the invitation list.<br /><br />6 - Amy fills this quick read with strong secondary characters, including Janie, David's sister and the bride-to-be. She's a good friend to both him and Beverly, and I quite liked her. Her unfortunate choice of bridesmaids gives us Brenda, a rival for Beverly for David's precious time during the week-long wedding preparations. David's mother and Beverly's ex-husband also give lasting impressions.<br /><br />7 - There is room for occasional hilarity in this otherwise scorchy novella. Like this moment from the pre-wedding luau at David's parents': <br /><br />"<em>He cocked his eyebrow. 'What do you have against…' he trailed off as he caught sight of his eighty-three-year-old grandfather hobbling by in a garish Hawaiian shirt, Bermuda shorts hiked up and belted under his armpits and black socks to his knees with mesh shoes.<br /><br />'Hey sonny,' he called out as he walked by.<br /><br />Ms. Robins was giggling into her hand.<br /><br />'Point taken, Ms. Robins,' David said.</em>"<br /><br />8 - I really, really love Amy's dialogue. She spins speech like a screenwriter. Every character has his or her own voice, and their dialogue is natural and moves characterization and plot forward. Can anyone ask for more? (A clue - no.) Here are seven lines of dialogue that pack a lot of info as well as convey character: <br /><br />"<em>She came out of her bedroom and was startled to see him standing in the branches, out of breath.<br /><br />'The back door was open,' she chuckled.<br /><br />'I like climbing trees, so much easier than climbing corporate ladders. Less work and less pain,' he said, trying to keep himself from panting and wincing from the pain in his abdomen from pulling himself from branch to branch.<br /><br />'I see. Are you going to be all right? You’re breathing pretty heavy there,' she asked, cocking a thinly arched brow. He could tell she was trying to control her laughter. He beat his chest and gave a soft Tarzan yell.<br /><br />'Just the sight of you, it takes my breath away.'</em> " <br /><br />9 - I admire Beverly's desire to reach for her own brass ring. She's a woman who married when she didn't truly know herself or what she wanted out of life. David's attraction to her gives her a new appreciation for the woman she has become.<br /><br />There are many women who may have found themselves in Beverly's situation at some point in their lives, and I once again cheer ePublishers' willingness to offer stories that veer away from idealized female characters that continue to populate print romantic fiction. <br /><br />10 - Amy really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br />"<em>He wanted to make this last forever. He wanted to bring her such pleasure that she would forget about every other lover she had. 'What’s that smell, that fragrance?'<br /><br />'Your sister asked me the same thing. Are you two into selling perfume or something?' she teased, cocking a finely arched brow.<br /><br />'No, but I like to know what my woman wears.'<br /><br />'Your woman?' she asked, surprised. 'Am I your woman now?'<br /><br />His answer was to reach down and pick her up in his arms, slinging her over his shoulder and slapping her on the ass. 'After tonight, you will be.'</em> "<br /><br />11 - The <em>Oh Yum!</em> series is a wonderful concept which I heartily applaud. Modern women hold the reins of their own sexual lives, and they also enjoy relationships with younger men - if that's what life presents them. There's no need to resist an attraction to a younger man because women aren't so hung up on calendar years. If she feels a kinship to a younger man, her healthy and youthful state these days can more than keep up with him.<br /><br />Just ask:<br /><br />Lorraine Bracco and former basketball player Jason Cipolla (21-year age difference)<br />Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher (15 yrs)<br />Mira Sorvino and actor Christopher Backus (14 yrs)<br />Kathy Najimy and musician/stage actor Dan Finnerty (13 yrs) <br />Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins (12 yrs)<br />Julianne Moore and filmmaker Bart Freundlich (10 yrs)<br />Sigourney Weaver and film & theatre director Jim Simpson (7 yrs)<br />J.K. Rowling and anaesthetist Neil Murray (5 yrs) <br />Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell (5 yrs)<br />Eve Mavrakis(production designer) and Ewan McGregor (5 yrs)<br />Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin (5 yrs)<br />Bo Derek and John Corbett (5 yrs)<br />Melanie Griffith and Antonio Banderas (3 yrs) <br /><br />12 - As with all the <strong>Ellora's Cave</strong> ebooks, the heat level is turned way up. <em>Way</em> up. The language is explicit in all the right ways. Our Amy spins a <em>very</em> sultry tale.<br /><br />Some of your fantasies might be woven within these pages. I know some of mine were.<br /><br />...just warnin' ya...<br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br />"<em>She cooked him a delicious seafood linguine. One of her specialties. Her grandmother was Sicilian and had taught Beverly all her coveted recipes when she got married. She had tried a few times and wasted her energy on cooking these very all-consuming meals when her ex just either gulped them down in a heartbeat or never showed up for dinner. After a while she had given up trying.<br /><br />She hadn’t made this recipe in almost eighteen years. She had been quite pleased that David seemed to enjoy it. Of course, they both had ended up naked, sitting at her antique dining room table. She wore only her heels and a string of pearls.<br /><br />He wore nothing but a smile as they enjoyed the dinner, the wine and good conversation. She couldn’t remember the last time that she actually had a good, intellectual conversation. They talked about everything and nothing.<br /><br />He talked about his job as a lawyer in Boston. He talked about his time at Harvard. She talked about her brief stint in college before she got married to her ex and became a wife.<br /><br />She was relieved to know that he loved to read and he liked just about everything except romance, which she was addicted to.<br /><br />He liked jazz music, so she padded over to her stereo and put on a great jazz album, a mix she had burned with some of her favorite singers like Diana Krall and Lena Horne.<br /><br />After dinner they headed upstairs where, according to her fantasy, she had a nice luxurious bubble bath with him.<br /><br />'What is with women and bubble baths?'<br /><br />'They’re nice, relaxing.'<br /><br />'And these bath salts like to effervesce up my ass.' He moved slightly as she began to laugh.<br /><br />'That too.' She was quiet as she rubbed his arms under the suds.<br /><br />'How come you’re so quiet?' he asked.<br /><br />'Just wondering, I mean why me? I am so much older than you. I mean I’m not expecting a future with you or anything—'<br /><br />'Sssh, let’s not talk about that. And as for why you, you’re an extremely attractive woman. Age doesn’t matter to me — there has always just been something about you.' He stood up, the suds sliding off his naked skin. He climbed out of the tub and rubbed himself with a towel.<br /><br />'What are you doing?' she asked, leaning her head on the tub, admiring his taut, yummy ass.<br /><br />'I’m going to show you exactly what I think of you,' he said, reaching down and lifting her out of her soaker tub. He set her down on the floor and toweled her off. He picked her up again and carried her to the bedroom.<br /><br />He laid her down on her silk sheets. He didn’t say anything and she didn’t need him too. She stared up into his dark and serious blue eyes. He leaned down and gave her a tender kiss. She could hear him breathing in her ear.<br /><br />'Nothing else matters this week but us. This is how much I want you.'<br /><br />She pulled him tight against her, loved the feeling of him. She broke off the kiss to listen to the rapid beating of his heart beneath his chest. She felt his hands rub her back gently, his fingers trailing down her spine.<br /><br />They didn’t say any more to each other. There was nothing to really say. But this was turning rapidly from a mere lust, infatuation situation for her.</em> Dammit, I’m falling in love with my neighbor’s son."<br /><br />- Amy Ruttan, 2008Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-52060716642151870392008-08-20T18:22:00.000-07:002009-01-12T18:23:53.084-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 69 - 13 Reasons to Read Invasion Earth by Loribelle Hunt<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSfsiHdcqlHX-1GVBzU0JJ_Rr6WLOWyYRYA1e0hCBw8CeaKtcNVa3Y_xwl3xTOxCzWMtBTZRafqeCjh74VLBfIiYlzX_jVrSqt43SuKIjZ1sUboTBbbqu4oPuKFn6szOJ0rqRDqYqVZ_z/s1600-h/invasionearth.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTSfsiHdcqlHX-1GVBzU0JJ_Rr6WLOWyYRYA1e0hCBw8CeaKtcNVa3Y_xwl3xTOxCzWMtBTZRafqeCjh74VLBfIiYlzX_jVrSqt43SuKIjZ1sUboTBbbqu4oPuKFn6szOJ0rqRDqYqVZ_z/s320/invasionearth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236020680214303394" /></a><br />1 - I discovered <a href="http://www.loribellehunt.com/">Loribelle Hunt</a> through a recommendation by my blog buddy, Jennifer McKenzie, who also writes as <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2008/06/thursday-thirteen-59-13-reasons-to-read.html">Jennifer Leeland</a>.<br /><br />Loribelle Hunt and Jennifer Leeland both write for <a href="http://www.king-cart.com/cgi-bin/cart.cgi?store=linda018&product_name=Invasion+Earth&return_page=&user-id=&password=&exchange=&exact_match=exact">Liquid Silver Books</a>, ePublisher of erotic romance. <br /><br />2 - <strong><em>Invasion Earth</em></strong> is part of <strong>Liquid Silver</strong>'s science fiction category. This is a new direction for Loribelle, who has published eight shapeshifter ebooks and three contemporary ebooks prior to <strong><em>Invasion Earth</em></strong>.<br /><br />3 - Loribelle's previous titles include:<br /><br /><strong>Paranormal</strong><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/kane.htm">Special Branch: Kane</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/gonewiththewolf.htm">Vegas Magic: Gone With the Wolf</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/capturedmoon.htm">Captured Moon</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/christmasmoon.htm">Christmas Moon</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/callofthemoon.htm">Call of the Moon</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/chasingthemoon.htm">Chasing the Moon</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/badmoonrising.htm">Bad Moon Rising</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/undercoverofthemoon.htm">Under Cover of the Moon</a><br /><br /><strong>Contemporary</strong><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/engagement.htm">Rules of Engagement</a><br /><a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/boundbylove.htm">Bound by Love</a><br /><a href="http://samhainpublishing.com/romance/fireworks">Fireworks</a><br /><br />Her Shifters paranormal series and two of her contemporary stories are published with <a href="http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/loribellehunt.htm">Cobblestone Press</a>.<br /><br />One contemporary story is published with <a href="http://samhainpublishing.com/authors/loribelle-hunt">Samhain Publishing</a>. <br /><br />4 - <strong><em>Invasion Earth</em></strong> introduces us to Sergeant Major Laney Bradford. She's a brilliant strategist fighting for the Earth Alliance army against an alien aggressor known as the Delroi. When she realizes they have gained control of the Doomsayer experimental bomb - something she had protested - Laney is willing to become a diplomatic bargaining chip to save her people from its destruction. <br /><br />5 - General Alrik Torfa leads the Delroi to its invasion of Earth in search of mates. Their seers have foretold he will find the mate of his heart among these Earth dwellers, but even he is not prepared to discover that the woman fated to be his own is called the Butcher of Roses by his people. Responsible for a bitter victory over the Delroi, this warrior woman will discover the true reason her Alliance had held out so long against superior forces. It was her destiny alone - to become Lady Torfa. <br /><br />6 - There is a strong diplomatic side to the storyline, which gives the military aspects a broader context. Spys and family loyalties, outmaneuvering hidden agendas and culture clashes between Earth's marriage-bound hostage - Laney - and the Delroi give this futuristic story a <strong><em>Tudors</em></strong>-style backdrop. <br /><br />7 - I really, really love Loribelle's authoritative military voice. I'm a huge fan of the Richard Sharpe Peninsular War series, the <em>Band of Brothers</em> take on WWII, the battle scenes in the <em>Star Wars</em> saga, the Middle-earth wars of <em>The Lord of The Rings</em> trilogy. I'm not the type of woman who wants to read about a sergeant major heroine as simply a kick-ass kind of gal. I want that sergeant major to know her way around tactical command. <br /><br />8 - The sexual tension between Laney and Alrik is immediate, because they are of the fated class of lovers. What could be more romantic than the <em>Some Enchanted Evening</em> type of love at first sight? Loribelle's version goes farther than 'across a crowded room'. They lock gazes across a raging battlefield. <br /><br />9 - Laney and Alrik have given their individual lives to their respective people. What Loribelle does so well is to load their sexual discovery with emotional realization. Can a trained soldier make a marriage work on a planet where women defer to men? Can a royal son of Delroi ignore the historic role of women when he's fallen for a warrior, like the fictional warrior women of his legends? <br /><br />10 - Loribelle really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br />"<em>Alrik needed to distract her and thought of the small rose tattoo on her breast. He found it sexy, but it had been a surprise. Women on Delroi did not mark their skin permanently like that, but there was an old, mostly abandoned tradition he wondered if she’d adopt.<br /><br />In the past bonded females, of warriors in particular, had pierced their nipples. It was a painful procedure, and a show of submission and strength. He hardened again and shared the image with her. He wanted her to do it, needed that sign of her surrender. He crossed his arms over his chest, snaring her with his gaze, watching the blush spread up her neck to her face. Felt her arousal. He watched the emotions play over her face, knew some of what she was thinking. She didn’t think there was a submissive bone in her body, yet she responded to the carnal demands of his shared visions. He wanted to drag her from the room and demonstrate exactly how much mastery he would have over her body. Thankfully, he was spared the embarrassment of dragging a kicking and screaming woman off by the arrival of his brother. It was time to get down to business.</em>"<br /><br />11 - Loribelle's steamy scenes need special mention. Laney's vulnerability issues are worked out in the bedroom with her dominant alpha husband-to-be. This works perfectly in a story that has a strong role-of-women subtext, especially since Laney's desires aren't what you'd expect from a sergeant major. <br /><br />12 - There are lots of scenes that belong to Laney and Alrik, but Loribelle has built a very lived-in world in <strong><em>Invasion Earth</em></strong>. Government officials, royal family members, soldiers from Laney's unit - everyone walks onstage with a fully-formed backstory. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br />" <em>Leaning forward, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her close, not allowing her any freedom of movement.<br /><br />She’d never liked being ordered around, especially in bed, but it wasn’t protest that rose. He was a man she’d never be able to push around. She couldn’t fight the urge to give him control, didn’t even try.<br /><br />Eagerly, she straddled his hips and looked him in the eye. He gripped her ribcage, guiding her. She gasped and closed her eyes. He held her there until she met his gaze, saw the stark need stamped across his features. Then he plunged deep, building a slow steady rhythm. She leaned forward, a little wobbly while incapable of bracing her hands on his shoulders or chest, but unable to resist the allure of his skin, the compulsion to taste his lips. She flattened her tongue against his neck, following a leisurely trail up his salty skin, smiling at his grunt when her teeth closed over his ear lobe and nipped.<br /><br />He didn’t give her the chance to kiss him. After pulling her flat against his chest, she heard him murmuring something in his own language. Struggling to breathe, dragging his masculine scent deep into her lungs, she didn’t have time to consider the words, or the radar-like pinging she felt straight to her marrow. Replete and exhausted, she collapsed against him, barely registering when he freed her arms or stood and carried her into a bedroom.<br /><br />* * * *<br /><br />It was done. Alrik hadn’t planned on doing it so soon. The binding prayer had burst forth from him when he felt her tighten. Even if he could take the words back, he wouldn’t. She was his now. She might despise him in the short run, but in the long run, it was the right thing to do for everyone.<br /><br />Tomorrow they would begin negotiating trade agreements that would put more of the Delroi’s unattached males on Earth. Hopefully, it would be enough to save his people. Until then, he had a warm soft woman in his arms and duty could wait.<br /><br />Her hair was still up and braided, the length twisted and pinned against her head. He pulled the small pins out and dropped them on the bedside table until finally the length was free. Surprised, he noted it reached the bottom of her back. Removing the band holding the end, he slowly worked the plait loose.<br /><br />Wavy from the braid, her hair was like heavy silk in his hand. He held it to the light to examine its color, a deep brown shot through with big streaks of red. He brought it to his face and breathed in its sweet scent, which smelled faintly of the flower called gardenia on this world, a plant the Delroi women with them had quickly discovered and adopted. He loved it.<br /><br />Alrik dropped the strands and they fell around her like a curtain. Grinning, he wondered if it would drape them both when she rode him. He would test that at the earliest opportunity. For now, he was content to explore her without her yammering at him.<br /><br />He had admired the tactical cunning of this woman for months. Her body was just as impressive. The bulky uniform concealed feminine curves. A small waist accented her flared hips and high breasts. Her skin was smooth and blemish free except for the small rose tattooed on one breast. Laugh lines around her eyes added to the appeal of an already pretty face.<br /><br />He rested his palm over her flat stomach, wondering how she would look swollen with his child. Nostrils flared in desire when he realized she could even now carry a babe. Would she give him girls? A houseful of females with their mother’s warrior spirit?<br /><br />She moaned in her sleep and leaned into him. Spooned up behind her, he pulled her leg over his. With a long sigh, she cracked an eye open and looked up at him.<br /><br />'Not a dream,' she murmured, moving against him.<br /><br />'Shh,' he answered, hand sliding down to where their bodies joined.<br /><br />He was content to hold her, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. Some time later, a soft knock came at the outer door. After untangling himself from her limbs and pulling on his pants, he let his brother in. Daggar glanced over at the sleeping chamber.<br /><br />'It’s done then?'<br /><br />'It is.'</em> "<br /><br />- Loribelle Hunt - 2008<br /><br />Join me next week when I review Amy Ruttan's <strong><em>Love Thy Neighbor</em></strong>.Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-24717739620918202912008-07-23T18:05:00.000-07:002009-01-12T18:06:26.428-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 65 - 13 Reasons to Read The Mistress Diaries by Julianne MacLean<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1IgKobGqrtvBVCS46BsrSK7U4YeraPytHQDmTZlGO9ME_Fz-3yQKBxz6EMSUZpvQAf_9kioe318PXDfEC-TWDVkB4wj77iwHR8_e2nRhyS35Wfjw9liuid-xf5uTXX7LoyG9QvbPr8AXF/s1600-h/1mistress%2520diaries%2520for%2520website.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1IgKobGqrtvBVCS46BsrSK7U4YeraPytHQDmTZlGO9ME_Fz-3yQKBxz6EMSUZpvQAf_9kioe318PXDfEC-TWDVkB4wj77iwHR8_e2nRhyS35Wfjw9liuid-xf5uTXX7LoyG9QvbPr8AXF/s320/1mistress%2520diaries%2520for%2520website.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225978376592178866" /></a><br />I'm very excited to bring you this book review, as the author is none other than my fabulous cousin, <a href="http://www.juliannemaclean.com/about.php">Julianne MacLean</a>.<br /><br />I met Julianne when I was six, when my family moved from Michigan and rejoined the Nova Scotia branch of the clan. It was the start of a beautiful friendship. Julianne and her brother, and myself and my sister, grew up like four siblings, always over at their house or our house. There's a me that only Julianne knows, and she's a bright spot in my world when I'm often wiping away the tears of loved ones, dusting them off and setting them back on their feet again.<br /><br />Julianne is the person I can relax and laugh with, admire the same sort of writing muses *wink*, and plunge into fascinating creative discussions with. So I'm thrilled to be able to share her 12th book release with all of you. <em>The Mistress Diaries</em> hits store shelves on July 29th. <br /><br />1 - <a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/books/9780061456848/The_Mistress_Diaries/index.aspx?AA=books_SearchBooks_25335"><em>The Mistress Diaries</em></a> is a <strong>Harper Collins</strong> <a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/author/microsite/about.aspx?authorid=25335">Avon Books</a> release. Second in the Pembroke Palace series, this story follows the second Sinclair brother forced to choose a bride by a father slowly going mad. <br /><br />2 - Part of <strong>Avon's Romance</strong> category, Julianne's story is a Victorian historical focusing on the swirling emotions that hide beneath the polished exterior of the nobility. The love scenes are steamy and really take the reader inside the feelings of the hero and heroine.<br /><br />3 - Here is the book trailer for <em>The Mistress Diaries</em>, made by Julianne's husband, man of many talents. The trailer is best enjoyed with the sound turned up. And it may not be safe for work. Enjoy!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I1A-shnv5cE&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I1A-shnv5cE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object> <br /><br />4 - We meet Cassandra Montrose, Lady Colchester, fresh out of mourning for an unfaithful husband. Far from eager to attach herself to another man, Cassandra dallies with a known seducer, determined to have at least one night of passion before embarking on the rest of her ladylike days. <br /><br />5 - Lord Vincent Sinclair is a jaded rake of the highest order. Second son of the addled Duke of Pembroke, he has every expectation that his upcoming marriage to Lady Letitia will hardly cause a ripple in his quest to take his pleasure whenever desire strikes. And his appetite for that is legendary. <br /><br />6 - Vincent was the villain of the first Pembroke Palace book, <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2008/03/in-my-wildest-fantasies-by-julianne.html"><em>In My Wildest Fantasies</em></a>. That book introduced Vincent as an angry, brooding brother to Devon Sinclair, with a major grudge against his elder sibling. Being a great fan of the <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2008/07/gray-character.html">gray character</a>, I stand in awe of my cousin's ability to turn such a dark character like Vincent into someone I can fall in love with. <br /><br />7 - Sexual tension flares up immediately for Cassandra and Vincent. As with all of Julianne's couples, each offers an emotional release to the other that simmers along with the sexual arousal. Julianne returns her two lovers to a state of courting, which only heightens the tension level to brow-mopping intensity. <br /><br />8 - Julianne gives us a fascinating look into the fallen woman character with Cassandra. We relate to her completely at the beginning of the story. As she finds herself thrust into a social role for which she never planned, we see inside the complexities of choice, consequence and self-image. It's a perfect balance to Vincent's journey from his brother Devon's villain to this story's hero. <br /><br />9 - I really, really love Julianne's way with a hottie hero. Here's our first impression of Vincent (from his book, not Devon's!): <br /><br />"<em>Lord Vincent Sinclair kicked open the door of the sumptuous London hotel room with staggering brute force and carried Cassandra Montrose, Lady Colchester, over the threshold. He had kissed her senseless in the carriage the entire way there. He grinned and kicked the door shut behind him.<br /><br />Pulling his white cambric bow tie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, he smiled with devilish intent. 'I quite assure you, Lady Colchester, I have not yet begun to be a bad influence. My best is yet to come.'</em> " <br /><br />10 - Julianne really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br />" <em>'You are very appealing when you choose to be, Vincent,' she told him, 'and you are a handsome man. That can be blinding for even the most sensible of women. I hope you will consider that when you become a husband.'<br /><br />He seemed surprised by her sudden desire to steer him in the direction of his conscience, when clearly neither he, nor she, believed he possessed one.<br /><br />'Indeed I shall,' he replied nevertheless, 'though I don't recommend getting your hopes up. We both know I will be a dismal failure at matrimony. I'm simply not cut out to be faithful.'<br /><br />She sighed over the fact that he had not changed, and likely never would. His brow furrowed with displeasure. Or was it annoyance? She wasn't sure what to make of it.<br /><br />'At least my mother will be close at hand to repair the damage when I live up to your meager expectations.' With that, he stood and walked out.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Immediately after leaving Cassandra's bedside, Vincent entered his own bedchamber and saw his great-grandmother's necklace - the famous Pembroke Sapphire - sitting in an open velvet box on the bed. He stared at the dark blue stone for a moment, saw in his mind a headstone with Cassandra's name on it, then slammed the door so hard, the vase on the dressing table toppled to the floor and smashed to a thousand pieces</em>."<br /><br />11 - Julianne switches POV seamlessly between Cassandra and Vincent, often in the midst of a heightened emotional scene. It only serves to further reveal plot and character, a sure touch from a writer at the top of her game. <br /><br />12 - There are no secondary characters who serve as set dressing in any of Julianne's books. Even Vincent's ducal-approved <em>fiancee</em>, Lady Letitia is three-dimensional. A character revealed only through letters, memory and conversation is especially haunting. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br />" <em>A short time later he was trotting up to the palace on his horse. He stopped to look up at the brightly lit drawing room window above. Letitia passed in front of it, unaware of his presence below. She stood for a moment with her back to him, chattering on about something to someone, then walked away.<br /><br />Devon came to look out the window next and looked down at him with a cool stare, as if he knew where he had been all night and greatly disapproved.<br /><br />Contempt shuddered through Vincent as he imagined going up there and sitting down with the rest of them. They would ask where he had been. Devon might even call him to the study to have a reproachful word with him about his activities and remind him of his duty to the family. His brother would warn him not to become distracted and tell him to spend more time at the palace.<br /><br />Devon had already fulfilled his duty by marrying Rebecca. They were all depending on each other to safeguard their inheritances. Vincent watched him raise a brandy glass to his lips and turn from the window when his wife slipped her arm through his and drew him away.<br /><br />Outside, alone in the dark, Vincent remained seated on a restless horse that could not, for some reason, keep still.<br /><br />He felt restless himself. He did not want to be here. He wanted to be at the dower house, in those small, cozy rooms, sitting by a fire.<br /><br />He turned and gazed back in that direction. It would be wrong to return. Cassandra would most certainly be angry with him. It could spoil everything. He should not do it.<br /><br />But he wanted so badly just to kick in his heels and urge his horse to a gallop - to speed across the moonlit hills and feel the wind in his hair, to leap over this particular hurdle in his life.<br /><br />He looked up at the full moon and watched the wispy clouds float in front of it, thin and transparent, incapable of dimming its illumination.<br /><br />He breathed deeply, seeking the calmness and dispassion he required to get through his betrothal to Letitia, his usual detachment, but all he felt was an ache of longing deep inside his chest. It was so relentless and severe, it almost made him double over in pain. <br /><br />In the end he did what he knew he should not do. He kicked in his heels and galloped off.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Cassandra looked out the window at the full moon overhead and thought wistfully about the many hours she had spent with Vincent over the past few weeks, strolling leisurely to the river, speaking openly about so many things.<br /><br />She had not expected it to be so pleasant. Not with him - the man whose heart she had believed was made of stone. This strange arrangement of theirs had been going on for quite some time now without a single hitch. Beneath all the courtesy and manners, she had been fighting against a new kind of desire that simply would not die.<br /><br />Every time Vincent stepped out of his coach, dressed in his elegant black coat and top hat, smiling up at her with those dark, mesmerizing eyes, she melted. She fell to pieces like a lovesick pup that did not know the meaning of restraint.<br /><br />But she did know the meaning of it, and she understood the consequences of giving in to temptation. She could never endure the heartache of sharing him with another woman. She was simply not built that way. If she loved someone, it would have to be all or nothing. She could not settle for less, and was still not sure Vincent was capable of such a devoted love, for he was broken inside. <br /><br />Or was she wrong about that? she wondered as she stared out the window at the darkness beyond. She had been wrong about so many other things, and he'd done nothing but surprise her over the past few weeks. <br /><br />A moment later she was tipping the crystal decanter over a glass. She took a sip and strolled back to the window. It was a beautiful night. She raised the glass to her lips when a nervous fluttering arose in her belly, for she spotted a man. He was sitting under the tree on the bank of the river at the bottom of the hill. The moonlight was reflecting off the water, and he was silhouetted against the sparkling ripples. His horse was tethered to the tree, its long neck bowed down to the grass.<br /><br />It was Vincent - that much she knew, even though it was impossible to identify anyone from such a distance in the darkness.<br /><br />What was he doing there? She had heard him leave almost two hours ago. Had he been sitting there all this time, or had he left and returned?<br /><br />She set her glass down on the table. If she knew what was good for her, she would go back to bed this instant and forget she ever saw him. But that would require her to guzzle the entire contents of what remained in the brandy decanter, enough to knock her out until dawn, because the fact of the matter was - she cared for him. She cared for him a great deal. And somehow she knew that he needed her</em>."<br /><br />- Julianne MacLean - 2008Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-46059899650189444072008-06-18T17:50:00.000-07:002009-01-12T17:52:32.319-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 60 - 13 Reasons to Read Fox's Bride by Amy Ruttan<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-LX-Y9YQlZI40uToXIHpkAhlIWjjx9vT_wW2jCn99qkxJkJLd5FakyZgRdTZznHdVIZfPG6S3K3qs8wWcEuh2ZYpTisLpAMJQ_PoabGQqXf1ZmUHWcd_m62oZMmDJIzYh1fl8p1X_0OXy/s1600-h/1amy4.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-LX-Y9YQlZI40uToXIHpkAhlIWjjx9vT_wW2jCn99qkxJkJLd5FakyZgRdTZznHdVIZfPG6S3K3qs8wWcEuh2ZYpTisLpAMJQ_PoabGQqXf1ZmUHWcd_m62oZMmDJIzYh1fl8p1X_0OXy/s320/1amy4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213155985325156898" /></a><br />In the blogosphere, kindred spirits have a way of finding each other. I met <a href="http://www.amyruttan.com/">Amy Ruttan</a> as a fellow commenter at <strong>Christine d'Abo</strong>'s <a href="http://christinedabo.com/blog/">blog</a>. 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 <em>Red Dwarf</em> - ever heard of that show? <em>Persuasion</em> with Ciaran Hinds. <em>The Vicar of Dibley</em>. Gwen Stefani. And of course, <em>The Pirates of Penzance</em>.<br /><br />I'd have to do an entire Thursday Thirteen about the things we've discovered about one another that makes us secret twins.<br /><br />I got the chance to have lunch with Amy, <a href="http://www.wyliekinson.com/">Wylie Kinson</a> and <a href="http://leahbraemel.blogspot.com/">Leah Braemel</a> 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 <a href="http://www.cerridwenpress.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419916274"><em>Fox's Bride</em></a> was released.<br /><br />1 - Amy is one of the Sexies at <a href="http://sixdegreesofsexy.blogspot.com/">Six Degrees of Sexy</a>, along with my fellow Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada writer <a href="http://www.reneefield.com/">Renee Field</a>, and fellow blog buddies <a href="http://christinedabo.com/">Christine d'Abo</a>, <a href="http://www.wyliekinson.com/books.html">Wylie Kinson</a>, <a href="http://www.redgarnier.com/">Red Garnier</a>, and <a href="http://www.robinlrotham.com/">Robin Rotham</a>. <br /><br />2 - And how exceedingly diverting is <em>Fox's Bride</em>? Read on, me hearties.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <strong>Cerridwen Press</strong>'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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />When they meet up after so many years as mere names on documents, their conversation quickly turns to:<br /><br /><em>'My lord, I am not your dear anything!'<br /><br />'Au contraire, you are my dear wife, are you not?' he asked smartly, looking thoroughly pleased parleying words with her.<br /><br />'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.</em> <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />10 - Amy really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br />" <em>'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.'<br /><br />Fox scoffed. 'You could but they’ll never pay. I’m an outcast, my dear.'<br /><br />She cocked her eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by his response.<br /><br />'Tsk, tsk. What about your poor wife? I’m sure she would be lost without you.'<br /><br />'You can try her, she is quite wealthy. Although, you may find her hesitant, she’s never met me.'<br /><br />'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.'<br /><br />Fox smirked, thoroughly enjoying his repartee with this enchanting vixen.<br /><br />'Happy to oblige, my dear. My wife is Lady Madeline Foxton of The Coral Reef plantation in Montego Bay.'<br /><br />Captain Meg’s eyes flew open in horror and she quickly turned away. Fox was confused by her response.<br /><br />'Sorry, did I say something to offend?'<br /><br />She turned around abruptly, the blunt end of her pistol raised.</em> Why is she angry? <em>was his last thought before everything went black.</em>"<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><em>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.</em> No, I won’t let him in tonight.<br /><br /><em>'What do you want?' she asked through the glass doors.<br /><br />'Let me in,' Fox said, his voice slurring slightly.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'Possibly,' Fox garbled his words. 'No, I’m not drunk, I’m foxed.' He laughed.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'I’m coming in to be with my wife, whether you like it or not.'<br /><br />She held the pistol up. 'I said no,' she warned dangerously.<br /><br />His eyes glinted in the moonlight. 'You wouldn’t shoot me. You need me.'<br /><br />'For what?' Madeline asked haughtily. Though she knew, yes she did need him to conceive a child.</em> Tell him the other reason, the reason even you won’t admit yourself, <em>a little voice niggled in the back of her mind.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'Now, shall we try that again?' he asked huskily.<br /><br />'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.<br /><br />'I do not think of you as a whore.'<br /><br />'So, women just fall at your feet?' she snapped.<br /><br />'Yes,' he said as he leaned his mouth down to the pulse point of her neck. 'Especially when I do things like this.'</em> <br /><br />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. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with a final excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br />"<em>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />As she came down the winding staircase the first thing she noticed was all the luggage.</em> He thinks he’s here to stay.<br /><br /><em>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'Jeremy…what brings you to The Coral Reef?' Madeline asked.<br /><br />'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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Jeremy wrinkled his nose in a sneer.<br /><br />'Still a little randy are we not, Jeremy?' she barked.<br /><br />'Still a prude eh, cousin?' Jeremy snapped as he sat down on the settee.<br /><br />'What do you want, Jeremy?' she asked firmly.<br /><br />'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.'<br /><br />'Your point?'<br /><br />'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.<br /><br />'I see,' Madeline said tightly.<br /><br />'I’m not totally heartless, cousin,' Jeremy said. 'I say that we annul your marriage to Lord Foxton.'<br /><br />'Why would I do that?' she asked uneasily.<br /><br />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.'<br /><br />A shiver went down Madeline’s back as she tried not lose her dinner.<br /><br />'You see the crux of it is, Jeremy, I can’t annul my marriage.'<br /><br />'Why ever not?' Jeremy demanded.<br /><br />'Because, quite simply, her husband has consummated the marriage,' a lazy voice drawled from the doorway.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.'<br /><br />Jeremy snatched it back and turned around to replace the fake eyebrow on his face. Madeline stifled a laugh in her hands.<br /><br />Jeremy rounded on Fox. 'What are you doing in Jamaica?'<br /><br />'That would seem obvious,' Fox said sardonically. 'I am consummating my marriage.'<br /><br />'I thought you were still in London?' Jeremy said disdainfully.<br /><br />'No, I caught the last ship to the West Indies,' Fox replied.<br /><br />'Well, what am I going to do now? There’s no ship back to England for a year.'<br /><br />'You’re more than welcome to stay here with us,' Fox offered.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'That’s very kind of you, Lord Foxton,' Jeremy acquiesced. His face turned beet red again.<br /><br />'You can go elsewhere. But I don’t know where, and with the Maroon attacks, I wouldn’t advise trying to travel tonight.'<br /><br />'I agree, you are most gracious, Lord Foxton,' Jeremy said, defeated.<br /><br />'John,' Madeline called. John had returned. He had obviously regained his composure. 'Would you show Jeremy to one of the guest quarters?'<br /><br />'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.</em>"<br /><br />- Amy Ruttan, 2008<br /><br /><br />This brings my second series of Thursday Thirteen book reviews to a close. Next week let's enjoy a little eye candy, shall we...?Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-80514081725727194702008-06-11T17:43:00.000-07:002010-03-27T11:39:06.892-07:00Thursday Thirteen - 59 - 13 Reasons to Read Resisting Command by Jennifer Leeland<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxD5oVDT8iY94p0fKL8X6FkgPRqeDEmqmUpK9zqA8YP0cArtVgbkpWohfPS8mju4uCM4KaFKAHyEqhzNHOF6LDFcBMSQ1A7K0Svf6ABoB91u_WKb1pcg_eek-lGY9QqmrfyxDesRD6tKOL/s1600-h/1jl.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxD5oVDT8iY94p0fKL8X6FkgPRqeDEmqmUpK9zqA8YP0cArtVgbkpWohfPS8mju4uCM4KaFKAHyEqhzNHOF6LDFcBMSQ1A7K0Svf6ABoB91u_WKb1pcg_eek-lGY9QqmrfyxDesRD6tKOL/s320/1jl.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209567069344266322" /></a><br />I took one look at this cover and knew I had to read this new release by <a href="http://www.jennifermckenzie.com/leelandbooks.html">Jennifer Leeland</a>.<br /><br />I can't resist a man on his knees.<br /><br />It's one of the big reasons I love historicals, paranormal and fantasy. And ballet, too - the men are often kneeling. Gorgeously.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />1 - Before we get to <em>Resisting Command</em>, 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.<br /><br />You may have heard me mention lately how much I love the BBC series <em>Robin Hood</em>. 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zXm5rzVmUwk&hl=en"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zXm5rzVmUwk&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br /><object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L_0b-nCizyw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L_0b-nCizyw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />Like <em>Robin Hood</em>, 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. <br /><br />3 - Jennifer's novel is part of <a href="http://www.king-cart.com/cgi-bin/cart.cgi?store=linda018&product_name=Resisting+Command&return_page=&user-id=&password=&exchange=&exact_match=exact">Liquid Silver</a>'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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />8 - Jennifer has already set one story in this world, <a href="http://www.king-cart.com/cgi-bin/cart.cgi?store=linda018&cart_id=4036088.19995&product_name=Taking+Command&return_page=&user-id=&password=&exchange=&exact_match=exact"><em>Taking Command</em></a>. 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, <em>Regaining Command</em>. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />10 - Jennifer really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br />" <em>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.<br /><br />For some reason, she wanted to know what Paul was doing. But she wasn’t obsessed.<br /><br />Of course not.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />She had easy access to his input.<br /><br />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.</em><br /><br />Well, we’ll see if two can play your game.<br /><br /><em>She clicked and tweaked his fantasy and headed for a VFR access door. This was going to be fun</em>."<br /><br />11 - This is a very steamy novel, dealing with BDSM subject matter. Sweet romance seekers need not apply! <br /><br />12 - Jennifer also writes and blogs under the name <a href="http://www.jennifermckenzie.com/mckenziebooks.html">Jennifer McKenzie</a>. Visit her at <a href="http://jenniferleeland.wordpress.com/">The Redneck Romance Writer</a>, where she often goes on hilarious rants known as Just Sayin'. <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br />" <em>'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.<br /><br />'Have you felt the effects of S.E.X. yet?' His boss’s tone was amused.<br /><br />'I’ve been staying on the Zenith. I’ll be transferring to the planet tomorrow.'<br /><br />'I hope you’re prepared.'<br /><br />'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.</em><br /><br />***<br /><br />Repeat previous program, Dr. Carstairs? <br /><br /><em>The cursor blinked. Yes or no?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Yes, she needed this. A sound made her open her eyes. In front of her, Paul Lestrano knelt before her in perfect submission.<br /><br />* * *<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />But when she bent down and her hand gripped his chin to force him to meet her gaze, he forgot which answers he sought.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.'<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.'<br /><br />He clenched his jaw. This was going to be difficult.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />His hands were immobilized and so were his feet. All he could do was stay on his knees and watch.<br /><br />As she stepped in front of him, he glared at her. 'How will I writhe with need if I’m bound like this?'<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'Let me show you what I can do,' he rumbled deep in his throat. God, he wanted to please her.<br /><br />She slapped him with her other hand. The sting didn’t diminish his need one bit.<br /><br />'You’ll do what I want you to do.' She released her grip on his hair and caressed his cheek.<br /><br />'Why?' It slipped out before he could stop it.<br /><br />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.'<br /><br />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."</em><br /><br />- Jennifer Leeland, 2008<br /><br /><br />Join me next week when I review <a href="http://www.amyruttan.com/blog/">Amy Ruttan</a>'s <em>Fox's Bride</em>.Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3296465482885665793.post-73337561516655174932008-06-04T11:01:00.000-07:002010-02-06T11:02:47.864-08:00Thursday Thirteen - 58 - 13 Reasons to Read Law of Averages by Wylie Kinson<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDnrZurCDrZDwgoX5e8UgI8Fghet0cHrT23O5VqTQ8yUBWLpZ3Ga-bfoDSxVlwNhhWCRtMgMsN7WBNGrbylF-z9c055CAGyuqySSnj2CXab2Y3wsNVnuaC2JBbdV-r9bTPC3fu8K8yG2z/s1600-h/Law+of+Averages+cover.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilDnrZurCDrZDwgoX5e8UgI8Fghet0cHrT23O5VqTQ8yUBWLpZ3Ga-bfoDSxVlwNhhWCRtMgMsN7WBNGrbylF-z9c055CAGyuqySSnj2CXab2Y3wsNVnuaC2JBbdV-r9bTPC3fu8K8yG2z/s320/Law+of+Averages+cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207463856880229282" /></a><br /><br /><em>Law of Averages</em> is <a href="http://www.wyliekinson.com/">Wylie Kinson</a>'s second <a href="http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419916250">Ellora's Cave</a> 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... <br /><br />1 - I discovered Wylie Kinson as a fellow blogger. She's one of the Sexies at <a href="http://sixdegreesofsexy.blogspot.com/">Six Degrees of Sexy</a>, along with my fellow Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada writer <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2008/04/thursday-thirteen-49-13-reasons-to-read.html">Renee Field</a>, and fellow blog buddies <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2008/04/thursday-thirteen-51-13-reasons-to-read.html">Christine d'Abo</a>, <a href="http://julia-mindovermatter.blogspot.com/2008/04/thursday-thirteen-52-13-reasons-to-read.html">Red Garnier</a>, <strong>Amy Ruttan</strong> and <strong>Robin Rotham</strong>. <br /><br />2 - Even before I realized the crowd she hung with, I'd noticed her witty zinger comments at creative goddess Rhian's blog, <a href="http://creativegoddesses.blogspot.com/">From My Brain To Yours</a>. 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.<br /><br />3 - So how fabulous is <em>Law of Averages</em>? Read on, darlings.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />9 - Wylie's wit is sprinkled everywhere throughout this book. As in:<br /><br /><em>His chest was bare but for that line that gathered around his bellybutton and headed down the center before disappearing…</em><br /><br />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?<br /><br /><em>Shit. Now her inner voice was speaking with an English accent.</em> <br /><br />10 - Wylie really knows how to end each chapter with a hook. Like this, for example:<br /><br />" <em>'I thought I heard you giggling. Were you reading?'<br /><br />'No,' she said, wiping the water that had spewed out of her mouth in surprise.</em> He heard me? <em>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.'<br /><br />It was Gabriel’s turn to spew.<br /><br />'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.'<br /><br />'I gave you plenty of signals last night, Gabriel, but you didn’t touch me.'<br /><br />'I was fighting with my conscience.'<br /><br />'Oh? Who won?'<br /><br />'You did.'</em> "<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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...<br /><br />Most wonderful is the gorgeous bathing suit, gossamer cover and wide-brimmed hat he gives her to wear on the boat.<br /><br /><em>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.</em> <br /><br />13 - I leave you with an excerpt. Enjoy!<br /><br />" <em>'Where have you been?' He actually looked worried, standing on the top step in the dark as she approached.<br /><br />'You’re</em> Gabriel Law<em>!' she accused with pointed finger. She pushed past him and stormed into the cottage. She rounded on him. 'Why didn’t you tell me?'<br /><br />'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.<br /><br />'Yes, technically,' she took a deep breath, 'but you should have said, "Hello, I’m Gabriel Law, better known as</em> Dark Angel<em>"!'<br /><br />He winced. 'Ah, sorry. I assumed you knew. Most people do.'<br /><br />'Oh they do not! How many people know Bono’s name — '<br /><br />'Paul Hewson.'<br /><br />'Or Sting — '<br /><br />'Gordon Sumner.'<br /><br />'Damn you, Gabriel! Just stop it. You</em> knew <em>I didn’t know.' She wagged her finger at him. 'You purposely deceived me.'<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'Was this a game to you? Am I some joke that you and</em> Grinder <em> will have a good chuckle over? Really, Gabriel, I’m so disgusted I could spit!'<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Bad choice. The pillow smelled like him.<br /><br />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'.<br /><br />That was the moment the dizziness began. Words swam in front of her eyes —</em> Official Dark Angel Fan Club, Rough Cut Concert Listings, Gabriel Law, the Dark Angel of Rock…<br /><br /><em>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.<br /><br />'Megan, can I come in?' Gabriel called through the door, breaking her out of her thoughts.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'No.'<br /><br />'Bloody hell,' she heard him murmur behind the door. He came in anyway.</em><br /><br />Damn Ash and Gemma for not having locks on their doors.<br /><br /><em>'Look at me.'<br /><br />'No.'<br /><br />'You’re crying.'<br /><br />'No, I’m not.'</em> Duh! <em>He was standing in the room. He could see the damn tears. 'Well, yes, but not because of you.'<br /><br />'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.<br /><br />Damn plants. Damn Gabriel.<br /><br />He got on his knees in front of her and took the mashed, wet pillow out of her hands.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />'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.'<br /><br />'Why?' she sniffed.<br /><br />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?'</em> "<br /><br />- Wylie Kinson, 2008Julia Phillips Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15392455413201190775noreply@blogger.com