Rameau's Review Archive: Shades of Desire by Virna DePaul

Rameau's ramblings: Gah, this was horrible. Originally posted on Goodreads on May 20th 2012.
 
Synopsis:
WHAT SHE CAN'T SEE COULD KILL HER. 

Natalie Jones is the lucky survivor of an elusive killer who preys on young women and then disappears from view. And since her harrowing ordeal, the once gutsy photojournalist has remained isolated in her home, paralyzed by fear and her failing vision. 

Special Agent Liam "Mac" McKenzie has scars of his own. But despite his efforts to ignore the attraction that simmers between him and Natalie, he needs her help to catch a predator. Soon, they will forge a tentative alliance-charged with desire. Through a soft-focus lens, Natalie dares to envision a future with Mac beyond the investigation...never guessing that the clues hidden within her photographs are drawing them into an explosive confrontation with a madman.

Shades of Desire by Virna DePaul

I started this book thinking of giving it a solid three stars and hoping for the fourth. Instead of something extra, I found all the plot threads of a promising premise slipping through my fingers until only thing left was bitter disappointment.

Let's start with the characterisations. What characterisations? The characters do and react as it suits the scene and situation rather than following some internal compass that guides them through life even with the needle improperly calibrated. To this moment I can't tell you what Natalie or Mac is supposed to be like. I can tell you the events that supposedly helped to make them who they are because I read the infodumps, but based on their actions showed in this book they remain a mystery to me.

Because of the poor characterisations, the pacing doesn't work either. It's not as bad a situation in the beginning where the focus is on the investigation, but when Natalie and Mac meet, it soon unravels into their incomprehensible instant attraction. Of course they don't really spend time getting to know each other like normal people would, but they snipe at each other to add to the tension, I suppose. The evolution of their relationship is minimal to the point that their sexual encounter feels like it's coming out of the blue even though all the trope warning signs are there. This is because majority of the book Natalie and Mac are apart.

The book is written in third limited with alternating points of views from the hero and heroine and the villains of the story. Yes, that was a plural. At first those glimpses into the criminal psyche were the part I enjoyed reading, but then all subtlety was thrown out and replaced with full-scale infodumping.

This isn't a character driven storyline. This reads like a book that had a mapped out structure before the characters were shoehorned into it. It leaves the distasteful feeling of forced plot progression. Things don't develop naturally, but they are poked and prodded to the right direction by obvious deus ex machinas. I guess it could have been better, had the quality of the writing been good enough to distract from these obvious flaws. Though, I must admit, even then this book wouldn't have made on my favourites shelf.

In my status updates I mentioned the lack of research or feel of it. I might have been overly harsh, but the fact remains that I didn't feel like whatever research had been done did shine through the text. Random titbits about the everyday life of a blind person were thrown in, but they weren't integrated into the text to help bring Natalie's character alive. This, once again, highlights the problematic characterisation.

There's one, highly spoilerish thing I must mention. If you plan on reading this book, don't click to open the tags. I mean it. (view spoiler)[Natalie has supposedly had her tubes tied when she was twenty-five-years-old. I admit I was speed reading at this point, but nowhere was it mentioned that she had to go through a rigorous process to get the operation. There's no mention of psychiatric appointments or reluctant doctors. I don't know if things truly are so different on this side of the pond or if it's simply a failure on the authors part.

I point this out, because my mother's friend was deadly afraid of getting pregnant and giving birth. She had had her tubes tied at the earliest opportunity after the doctors agreed to do it. She didn't have any children and she'd just turned forty. As she lay on the table they still kept asking her if she was sure she wanted to go through with it.

No way do I believe Natalie could have had her tubes tied that young and easy. She would have had to meet with a counsellor of some sort and as afraid as Natalie was about going mad like her mother I doubt she'd agreed to it. And had she, I highly doubt the counsellor would have green-lighted the operation (hide spoiler)].

I received an Advanced Readers Copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley.

Rameau's Review Archive: Proof by Seduction by Courtney Milan (Carhart #1)

Originally posted on Goodreads on February 2nd 2012. This is one of our second opinion reviews and if you click the 2nd opinion icon, you'll find the original:

Synopsis:
"She was his last chance for a future of happiness..."A gifted fortune-teller from a humble background, Jenny can make even the most sophisticated skeptic believe her predictions simply by batting her smoky eyelashes. Until she meets her match in Gareth Carhart, the Marquess of Blakely, a sworn bachelor and scientist.

"He just didn't know it yet"

Broodingly handsome, Gareth is scandalized to discover his cousin has fallen under the spell of "Madame Esmerelda," and vows to prove Jenny a fraud. But his unexpected attraction to the fiery enchantress defies logic. Jenny disrupts every facet of Gareth's calculated plan--until he can't decide whether to seduce her or ruin her. Now, as they engage in a passionate battle of wills, two lonely souls must choose between everything they "know."..and the boundless possibilities of love.


Proof by Seduction by Courtney Milan

When an uptight scientist meets an alluring fortune-teller, a clash is unavoidable. Rich and dutiful Lord Blakely is ready to fight the conniving liar Madame Esmerelda for the soul of his cousin Ned Carhart. Who could have guessed that they'd end up fighting for something else instead?

Who indeed?

It's the basic set up for a historical romance novel. A powerful aristocratic man meets a poor but somehow exceptional woman who changes him irreversibly. Naturally he does the same for her. They meet, they squabble, and go their separate ways. Until they meet again and start anew. They end up challenging each other in ways that neither fully understands until the very last pages of the story.

What sets this novel apart from the rest, is how Milan fills the pages. There's enough material for two novels, and all the important exposures are knitted with plot points instead of being offered in info dumps. Milan also utilises secondary characters in a way many forget to do. The scenes told from Ned's point of view don't feel like a distraction from the main story, but add something heartwarming to the mix. I can't wait to read more about him.

However. This is not a fair rating. Proof of Seduction may be her debut novel, but it isn't the first Courtney Milan romance I've read, and thus she's competing against herself. And as good as this book is compared to all those other romance novels out there, I've read better, especially from Mrs Milan.

The story has all the elements I've come to love about Milan's writing–abundance of plot, tempting set up, intriguing characters, bewitching storytelling, and a historical world I'd be more than happy to suspend my belief for–but from a purely technical standpoint it's by far her weakest work. There are unfortunate word choices, questionable characterisations–Jenny, for example, is painfully naive on occasions– and unnecessary scenes, which amount to repetition at times.

Unlike with Milan's other fictitiously happy Harlequin endings, I didn't buy this one. I felt like the trademark ending only served to distort the characterisations in a way that made them unbelievable to me. I've become accustomed to suspending belief when it comes to historical romances, but this time the magic of the story wasn't strong enough to carry me through the disparity of the marriage.

See, nothing fair about that.

Rameau's Revie Archive: Taxes and TARDIS by N. R. Walker

Rameau's ramblings: Apparently according to Goodreads this edition is no longer available. Hmm. I wonder why. Originally posted on Goodreads on December 19th 2012. 

Synopsis:
Brent Kelly is a laid-back tradesman whose only concerns are drinks with friends and which man to bed next. In need of a new accountant to sort out his nightmarish shoebox of tax receipts, he's referred to Logan Willis. He doesn't expect to be intrigued by the science fiction-loving, geeky guy with dark-rimmed glasses and a TARDIS-blue shirt. So his fascination with the soft-spoken Englishman surprises him, and their mutual attraction is completely unexpected. He most certainly never expects to fall in love. One a jock and the other a geek, both men know the differences between them are vast and could cause problems. But in this opposites-attract erotic drama, maybe it's the differences between them that make staying together worth the fight.

Taxes and TARDIS by N.R. Walker

I liked the Tardis coloured shirt and nothing else. Even the occasional witty lines were depressing because, obviously, everything else had been sacrificed for them.

Brent and Logan meet, they have sex—a lot—and they apparently fall in love. The only reason I know this is because they say so at the end. I couldn’t detect any sort of character development or sketching in between every single romantic cliché imaginable and the fanfiction-like writing.

What’s it called when a porn-without-a-plot story tries to introduce and is ruined by brief plot-like scenes? Whatever it is, this book suffers from it. And to add insult to injury the smut isn’t even that good.

I’ve read my share of original romantic stories revolving around Doctor Who fandom, and some of them were even good. This wasn’t.

Rameau's Review Archive: Galley Proof by Eric Arvin

Rameau's ramblings: Originally posted on Goodreads on March 21st 2012. 

Synopsis:
Fiction writer Logan Brandish is perfectly happy in his peaceful small-town routine with his best friend, his cat, and his boyfriend—until he meets the editor of his next book, the handsome Brock Kimble, and the lazy quiet of everyday living goes flying out the window. Faced with real passion for the first time, Logan becomes restless and agitated, and soon his life and his new manuscript—a work in progress he’d always thought would be completed—are in a shambles.

But as Logan is learning, you can’t always get what you want… at least not right away. To take his mind off the mess, he takes a trip, but even the beautiful Italian, um, scenery can’t keep his thoughts from his erstwhile editor for long. Logan just might have to admit there are some things you can’t run from.

Galley Proof by Eric Arvin

Everybody has read those books–usually they come with horrendous cover art–that start with an apparent self-ironic scene that tries to justify using a cliché. It's some trope that has been beaten, hit, struck, battered, hammered, trashed, pummelled, and flattened to the ground ages ago. And for a while it works.

The author works his ass off and makes the first person past tense voice of his character sound like something hilarious, something new, refreshing, and witty. Then he crosses the line from a fine comedy to unadulterated spoof and ruins the effect. If you, the reader, are very lucky the narrative still sounds entertaining enough to carry through to the end and lets you finish a book instead of feeding your DNF pile.

If you're very, extremely, exceptionally, not-that-uncommonly-at-all unfortunate, you'll end up with a WTF face and whole lot of wasted hours. Hours of your life that you'll never be able to reclaim. At which point you either decide to move on and give this author a wide berth in the future, or you decide to give something back to the reading community and write a longwinded review that starts with a handful of meta-paragraphs sure to annoy innocent review readers.



Welcome to my life.

This book reads like an autobiography trying to be self-ironic and falling short by miles. It's like the author decided to skip coming up with anything original or fictional and instead document his day-to-day life in the publishing world. Maybe his editor told him to throw in a few outrageous characters and give them the kind of urban legend lives you only hear around the water cooler or wherever the workers go to smoke illicitly. Maybe the author was bored and decided to imitate a handful of his idols–in one book.

Whatever led to the creation and publication of this book, is everything that's wrong with the publishing industry today. This book is unbalanced, tactless, and inane. If it had to be published, why couldn't it be an in-house newsletter to amuse the people who are able to recognise and appreciate the publishing jokes. If it had to be published as a gay romance novel or erotica wannabe, why not write one. If this had to be published at all, why not just do it and NOT market it as something it's not.

This book is mislabelled as a gay romance. It's mislabelled as a romance. There's no romance here. There is simply a string of sex scenes and fuckbuddies without anything resembling a plot.

Also, Arvin went there. He had the ex-editor-fuckbuddy-friend attack-comment on a one star rating-review. How is this any better than the author–still talking about the book characters, just want to make it clear for Goodreads staff–himself commenting on a negative review? Just having it in the book is like condoning bad behaviour and I've had my limit. I would have given this book one star regardless, this just removed any guilt I might have felt.

Had Galley Proof been shelved under general fiction I might be more forgiving to the abrupt style changes and the utter lack of the thin red line that connects it all, but it wasn't and I'm not. If only Arvin had said what he made his character say:

"I have decided it's not worth my time to write nor is it worth her time to read."

I received a copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley.

You can also read this review on Sandra's My Fiction Nook-blog.

Rameau's Review Archive: Gold Mountain by Sharon Cullars

Rameau's ramblings: I had high hopes for this book once. Originally posted on Goodreads November 21st 2012.

Synopsis:
In 1865, the hope for gold has spurred many to seek their fortunes in California, the place the Chinese call Gum San or "Gold Mountain." Amidst this backdrop, Quiang, a new Chinese immigrant, works the dangerous rails hoping to save enough money to send home to his parents. In town, Leah and Clara, two enterprising women from New York, have plans of their own to grow a restaurant and laundry business. However, both plans go awry when Quiang and Leah meet one fateful day. What starts as a budding attraction soon grows into tumultuous desire despite the cultural and language barriers between them.

Initially resistant, Leah succumbs to passion following a tragic loss that leaves her vulnerable and alone. With hopes for a future that now includes Leah, Quiang embarks on a perilous path as he leaves the railroad behind for a more profitable position as a courier for The Tong, henchmen for the dangerous Triad. Quiang soon finds that navigating the secretive life of a courier brings more danger than he has ever faced on the railroad, dangers that not only threaten to tear him and Leah apart, but may cost them their lives as well.

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content and graphic language.

Gold Mountain by Sharon Cullars

This review can also be found on Book Girl of Mur-y-Castell-blog.

It’s been six months but I remember buying this book because I’d seen a semi-positive review on a blog—Dear Author probably—and because a romance of a mixed-race couple in the 1860’s Wild West sounded intriguing. Especially since neither character is white.

Unfortunately the story didn’t live up to its promise.

I did like the start of the book, although I did think it somewhat boring. The author spends a lot of time setting the scene and describing the life of a Chinese worker building the railroads for a pittance and the life of a black single woman trying to build a new life and a business for herself and her friend. Bias, racism, sexism, it’s all there and prevalent in the vernacular.

As if that’s not enough to create obstacles to the couple’s happiness, there’s also their inability to fully understand each other. Quiang speaks but a little English and he and Leah have to communicate through gestures, looks, and touches.

There’s all this, and what does the author do with it? Nothing. Cullars glosses over all the difficult—and rewarding—steps of a meaningful relationship building and focuses on the paper thin physical attraction instead. There’s a brief mention of how Leah and Quiang learn to communicate with the help of a dictionary, but they don’t really talk to each other. When they’re together they’re either taking their clothes of and having sex or putting their clothes on and thinking about having sex. And those sex scenes are bad. There’s creaming and there’s tumescence, there’s orbs and there’s the infamous “her sex” euphemism.

After all that, the story and my rating for it could have been saved had I bought Quiang’s interactions with the triad members. I can’t really pinpoint my problem with them, but something in the language used left me unconvinced. It wasn’t just Wao’s refusal to call an erection an erection, it was also how the revelation of the misappropriation was handled. Until then, I had liked Quiang’s willingness to engage in shady businesses for quick profit and that both characters had such defined lives outside each other, after it just felt anticlimactic.

I didn’t want a happily ever after epilogue, I wanted to read how they get there.

So what does the book have? Good historical description with nascent characterisations, but without any real character or relationship development, and a whiff of Wild West adventures. It simply wasn’t enough for me.

Rameau's Review Archive: About That Night (FBI/US Attorney #3) by Julie James

Originally posted on Goodreads May 4th 2012.

Synopsis:
He's Playing Games

Though Rylann Pierce tried to fight the sparks she felt for billionaire heir Kyle Rhodes the night they met, their sizzling chemistry was undeniable. But after being stood up on their first date, Rylann never expected to see him again. So when she finds herself face-to-face with Kyle in a courthouse nine years later, she's stunned. More troubling to the beautiful assistant U.S. attorney is that she's still wildly attracted to him.

But She's Making The Rules

Just released from prison, Kyle Rhodes isn't thrilled to be the star witness in a high-profile criminal case—but when Rylann comes knocking at his door, he finds she may be the one lawyer he can't say no to. Still as gorgeous and sharp-tongued as ever, she lays down the law: she doesn't mix business with pleasure. But Kyle won't give up on something he wants—and what he wants is the one woman he's never forgotten.

About That Night by Julie James

This is the point where I say you either like how Julie James writes or you don't. I do think she writes better contemporary romance than most, but it's not ideal for me either. I have my pet peeves like over-repetition of certain jokes, the missed opportunities with familial interactions, and nipples. That's all I'm going to say about the sex scenes this time. Nipples.

The story starts slow with an in depth look at the events that took place nine years earlier. Even when the story jumps ahead to present date, it takes time for the couple to meet. Both Rylann's life after college is established, and the events from the previous book paraphrased to explain Kyle's current situation.

As per usual—she says with the voice of experience of reading three books of the same series—Julie James creates three dimensional characters with thought out motives and strong friendships. There's always more under the surface and this is emphasised with a character like Kyle Rhodes.

In A Lot Like Love Jordan Rhodes was said to have a recognisable face from the Chicago gossip columns, but it wasn't an all-pervading part of her daily life like it's for Josh Kyle—dammit Alicia. His mugshot and heir apparent status ensure that every stranger has an opinion on him. There's a public image he exudes, but excluding three people who have known him longer than a decade no one really knows the private side of him. So far that hasn't been a problem, and Josh Kyle actually prefers it that way.

Then Rylann Pierce walks into the courtroom and back into his life.

The fact that they almost had a date in college makes Rylann just curious enough to let herself bend the rules and divert from her twelve-year-plan. She's a good girl prosecutor who plays by the rules, but with Kyle she makes a few new rules. For Kyle, who is used to playing games, this is a novel experience. They play these power games to the point where it made me uncomfortable. I assume it was done to heighten the sexual tension, and it did, but it also made me realise that I didn't like Rylann very much. Not at that point at least.

Still, their behaviour was true to their characterisations and, like always with Julie James, that drove the plot. Sure, there were external obstacles too, but the biggest problems Rylann and Kyle had with their relationship, came from within. Rylann's need to plan ahead and exude a certain kind of image because of her work, and Kyle's need to turn his life around and let go of a few grudges dictated their interactions.

I especially like how Julie James' characters don't always get what they want. It doesn't matter whether or not an apology is justified or not, when they don't get it, they act like an adults and move on with their lives. They don't throw huge tantrums that artificially kick start a romantic comedy and drive the plot. There's something very real about them. So real, that I'm always disappointed when there's not enough room for one more scene of "meet the family."

Julie James needs to stop doing that.

She needs to stop creating stellar secondary characters like Nick's Italian mother, or Kyle's father Grey, or Rylann's busybody mother and not have them meet the significant other their child is dating. I was beyond disappointed that Nick's mother didn't suddenly turn up in Chicago to meet this girl his son had talked about, because I really, really wanted to read that scene. I know the author aims for realism, but dammit, this is a book:

Bend the rules a little and have the characters do something outrageous.

Or at least explain their motives a little better. While I'm not heartbroken that Kyle never got to meet Rylann's mother in this book, I would have liked to have those comments and phone calls explained a little better. As it stands, her mother's only function in this book was to guilt Rylann into wanting to stay away from Kyle. Sure, I understood Rylann's motives, but I never understood why her mother would call to talk about the Twitter Terrorist if she didn't suspect there was something going on between them. And I never got an answer for that.

I'd really like an answer to that. I'd really like to read in-between-novellas where Jordan is introduced to Nick's family, and Kyle has to win over Rylann's retired paralegal mother. I'm not above bribery either. Some good wine and chocolate should do the trick, don't you think?

Rameau's Review Archive: A Lot Like Love (FBI/US Attorney #2) by Julie James

Originally published April 16th 2012.

Synopsis:
The FBI wants her cooperation.
As the daughter of a billionaire and the owner of the city's top wine store, Jordan Rhodes is invited to the most exclusive parties in Chicago. But there's only one party the FBI wants to crash: the charity fundraiser of a famous restaurateur, who also happens to launder money for the mob. In exchange for her brother's release from prison, Jordan is going to be there—with a date supplied by the Bureau.

Agent McCall just wants her.
As the top undercover agent in Chicago, Nick McCall has one rule: never get personal. This "date" with Jordan Rhodes is merely an assignment— one they're both determined to pull off even if they can't be together for five minutes before the sarcasm and sparks begin to fly. But when Nick's investigation is compromised, he and Jordan have no choice but to pretend they're a couple, and what starts out as a simple assignment begins to feel a lot like something more.



A Lot Like Love by Julie James

Julie James has fallen was pushed stepped down from the pedestal of my unreasonably high expectations. She is, after all, just a woman who writes better contemporary romance novels than most.
This time I knew what to expect. I knew to expect characters that are strong and coherent, and I knew to expect a story that won't surprise me with its twists and turns but will effectively carry through and take the pressure off the romance. I knew to expect something believable--or as believable as the romance genre is capable of offering.

I like how Julie James does her research and how it shows in the daily details of a lawyer or a wine merchant. I like how Jordan teaches Nick about wine, looking at it, and tasting it. What I would have liked even more, if the passion a person or a character feels for his or her trade had shone through the text. For example, when Jordan explains that a wine's age affects its hue, she fails to elaborate how it affects it. For someone who works, lives, and breathes the stuff, that little detail should be clear as day and slip out in everyday discussion whether it bores the none wine enthusiasts or not. I know that when I start explaining physics I won't stop talking and pointing out little details until someone shuts me up or until I reach the limits of my knowledge.

Then there are times when the author should know to shut up. Writing the same word or expression over and over is like repeating a joke after it stops being funny. It's something I can live with, but I doubt it will ever fully stop nagging at me.

I didn't notice this, until Alicia pointed it out to me, but James likes to describe clothing and she likes to do it by saying he wore or she wore a lot. So I can say, there are some perks to not caring about everyday fashion--or fashion at all. Except Crocs. Even I won't wear them.

As to something that didn't affect the plot, but could have, I'm asking:

Why does Nick tell absolutely everyone that he works undercover and why does he tell absolutely everything about those undercover works of his? Telling his family about working undercover is one thing, spoiler telling a random sex buddy is anotherspoiler. The woman's confusion over his last name would have been enough to tip off the private detective, because apparently that was her only function. I wonder how such a blabbermouth survived doing that job for so long.

It's been a while--few days--since I read this book, and I can't think of much more to say. Other than to thank Alicia for recommending it to me. If the next two books I read from Julie James are as good as this, I'll be adding another author on my favourite authors list.

Rameau's Review Archive: The Marrying Kind by Ken O'Neill

Originally posted on Goodreads June 18th 2012.

Synopsis:
Wedding planner Adam More has an epiphany: He has devoted all his life’s energy to creating events that he and his partner Steven are forbidden by federal law for having for themselves. So Adam decides to make a change. Organizing a boycott of the wedding industry, Steven and Adam call on gay organists, hairdressers, cater-waiters, priests, and hairdressers everywhere to get out of the business and to stop going to weddings, too. In this screwball, romantic comedy both the movement they’ve begun and their relationship are put in jeopardy when Steven’s brother proposes to Adam’s sister and they must decide whether they’re attending or sending regrets. 


The Marrying Kind by Ken O'Neill

As I was browsing through NetGalley I happened on this book. I glanced at the cover, read the blurb, and thought maybe not. Then I looked at the author's name, and thought maybe yes.

A M/M romance written by a man? Definitely, yes.

Skimming through the blurb I thought this book would be more about Adam, the wedding planner who quits his job in protest until he can legally marry his partner Steven, but as it turns out it's not. It's more about Steven, the columnist for The Gay New York Times, with a Romanian family and more than his share of neuroses. He tells the story of how their wedding boycott started and how others embraced it. He shows how the wedding plans of their siblings created conflict not only between them and their families but between Adam and Steven and their cats too.

The Marrying Kind is written in first person limited there's only one way to win me as a reader over once that writing choice has been made: The narrator's voice. I'll either love it, tolerate it, or hate it. While I can't claim to be ready to drop down on one knee and profess my undying love, neither can I dismiss O'Neill's writing as merely tolerable.

Despite the slow start I found myself swept away even by the long paragraphs flashing back to Steven's childhood and other significant moments of his life that usually annoy me with all that telling going on. And then there were the moments of showing. I might have awed a couple of times, but I was usually giggling, cackling, or guffawing loud enough to scare the unsuspecting passes-by depending on the moment. Most of my status updates are direct quotes from those moments I once again scared the neighbours.

The book is filled with classical film references some of which I recognised and others didn't. Luckily, the author provides a short summary for the relevant parts. One thing the book isn't filled with is erotica. The plot doesn't dissolve into pure porn and there is exactly one reference to a sex scene and it's vague. That fact almost makes me want to give this book an extra star.

Though, I've shelved this book under romance, it's more than that. The story is set in New York in 2007 when gay marriage was yet not legal in the state. It's about fighting what's right and making your family see it. It's about the reality of a stable relationship and accepting your partner as is. It's about showing why equal rights should be equal.

I couldn't recommend this book more if I tried.

I received an Advanced Readers Copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley.

Rameau's Review Archive: Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1) by Julie James

Originally posted on Goodreads April 8th 2012.

Synopsis:

There's something about Julie James... 

Staying overnight in a luxury hotel, Assistant U.S. Attorney Cameron Lynde overhears a high-profile murder involving a U.S. Senator. Special Agent Jack Pallas is assigned to the investigation-the same Jack Pallas who still blames her for nearly ruining his career three years ago. Now the pair will have to put their rocky past behind them, focus on the case at hand-and smother the flame of their sizzling-hot sexual tension.

Something About You by Julie James

This is not a fair rating. I do try to rate evenly independent of genre and solely based on my enjoyment of a novel, but that doesn't always happen. Sometimes I come across writing of a quality that in itself raises my expectations for an author and I end up being much harsher on them than I would otherwise. Those authors–debut or not–must deliver in order to earn their stars. The last time I can remember having this particular problem was when I read and reviewed Proof of Seduction by Courtney Milan.

It looks like Julie James is going to be one of those authors.

Unlike Milan, James writes contemporary romance and about lawyers especially. The very first chapter of Something About You set my expectations high and for a while it looked like James would deliver. Her writing flows easily and the dialogue is witty. Her characters act like levelheaded adults would in real situations and there aren't any manufactured obstacles for their star-crossed romance. There is a misunderstanding, but it's years old and the reasons for it are understandable. There also appears to be a plot.

I admit I was a bit miffed for not getting to play the guessing game of a whodunnit mystery, but that didn't lower the rating from a solid four stars to a three. Several small beginner's mistakes did.

First of all, I didn't really think the killer's point of view added anything to the story. I think James might have been underestimating her skills as a mystery novelist, but I respect her for choosing not to go down that road. At least she decided to stick with third person limited instead of switching between a first person voice narrative and third limited. The horrors I've read.

I was also disappointed with the secondary culprit, the so called leak. This plot point lead to a little too neat bow being tied of those plot threads in the end.

The whiff of repetition. Occasionally James succumbed to writing scenes where a flavour of the month joke or plot point was beaten to death like the famous horse. In someone else's writing, I doubt I would have noticed these things, but as I mentioned before, Julie James has the questionable honour of my great expectations.

The floundering sex scenes. There are very few people who can write smut that I deem acceptable let alone good. I know I might be asking too much from a starting author, but if Courtney Milan can deliver so can Julie James, with a little practice.

If I made a habit of adding people on my favourite author's list having read only one of their books, Julie James would be there with Milan and Marchetta. Alas, she'll have to wait until I've caught up with the rest of her works.

Rameau's Review Archive: What the Librarian Did by Karina Bliss

Originally posted on Goodreads December 13th 2012.

Synopsis:

Is Rachel Robinson the only one on campus who doesn't know who Devin Freedman is? No big deal except that the bad-boy rock star gets a kick out of Rachel's refusal to worship at his feet. And that seems to have provoked his undivided attention. Devin, the guy who gave new meaning to the phrase "sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll." Devin, the guy who somehow becomes wedged between her and the past she's kept hidden for years. 

It's up to this librarian to find out firsthand just how "bad" he really is. Because her secret--and her growing feelings for a man who claims he's bent on redemption--depend on his turning out to be as good as he seems. Which is really, really good.

What the Librarian Did by Karina Bliss

This review can also be found on Book Girl of Mur-y-Castell-blog.

I may or may not have found my new favourite author.

There’s a reason Harlequin Superromances sell so well in Finland, better than Blaze or any other kinky ultra hot sex series or imprint. The impact of naked skin kind of evens out when you get used to seeing it regularly in the sauna. And we have those long winter nights and comfy blankets in our beds… anyway, it’s all about the story.

Here, two adults in their thirties meet at a point in their lives that isn’t particularly auspicious for romantic entanglements. One desperately wants a family but isn’t ready to commit to a man to have it, and another is trying to build a new start for his life. It’s a good thing then that they don’t know anything about each other and can discover together what the future holds for them. But as I said, the timing isn't the best possible and their past mistakes are about to catch up with them.

I made a list of all the things I loved about this book and it’s as disorganised as are my thoughts, still. I loved the wit and humour Bliss infuses her text with. Jokes are a delicate thing to write especially when the audience doesn’t necessarily share the cultural context with the author, but here:

”It wasn't that he had a five o'clock shadow at nine-thirty in the morning that screamed 'bad boy.' To Rachel's eyes, that simply made him scruffy.”

"Anyone could see she had a conscience. That must be painful for her."

”’I’m not offended. You're not my type, either.'
Perversely, he was piqued. 'Not a nerd, you mean?'
Her eyes narrowed. 'Not housebroken.’”

Look at that and tell me it’s not funny even without the context. I dare you.

I loved the fact that Rachel and Devin didn’t succumb to the insta-lust/love/attraction that’s a plague in modern romances. They were actually slightly antagonistic before building a tentative friendship with the option for more. Their romance was the slow burn kind with push and pull to keep them balanced. One gave the other took, and then they switched places. Truths were shared and actual smarts were displayed. I loved that both Rachel and Devin acted like adults. They weren’t perfect but they owned up to their mistakes and were determined to face the consequences.

One thing I absolutely hate in romance novels is the plot twist involving an artificial, prolonged misunderstanding. It was delightfully absent from this book and it all comes back to characters acting like real adults. Even in their most idiotic moments, they remained true to their characterisations instead of changing to fit the whims of the plot.

As for the reason why I now have a “can-I-has-a-Devin” shelf, let’s just say—without spoiling the book for everyone else—that the man knows the right things to say. (Yes, I’m aware that a woman wrote him.) He has brilliant scenes with Rachel and another character where he expresses his unwavering love, devotion, and trust in her. Once he’s in, he’s in. He’s made up his mind and he won’t let her insecurities drive him away, and he trusts her to figure it out eventually.

I’ll need to read that other book by Bliss I bought on the Harlequin Christmas sale. Then I’ll know if I’ll be adding another author on my list of favourites.

Rameau's Review Archive: Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire

Rameau's ramblings: I went looking for the first negative review I wanted to post here and I could only think of one. There are many books I've read and hated but there are a very few reviews I'm almost proud of. This is one of them. 

Originally posted on Goodreads on August 26th 2012.


Synopsis:
Abby Abernathy is a good girl. She doesn’t drink or swear, and she has the appropriate number of cardigans in her wardrobe. Abby believes she has enough distance from the darkness of her past, but when she arrives at college with her best friend, her path to a new beginning is quickly challenged by Eastern University’s Walking One-Night Stand.

Travis Maddox, lean, cut, and covered in tattoos, is exactly what Abby wants—and needs—to avoid. He spends his nights winning money in a floating fight ring, and his days as the ultimate college campus charmer. Intrigued by Abby’s resistance to his appeal, Travis tricks her into his daily life with a simple bet. If he loses, he must remain abstinent for a month. If Abby loses, she must live in Travis’s apartment for the same amount of time. Either way, Travis has no idea that he has met his match.
  



Beautiful Disaster by Jamie McGuire


This review can also be found on Book Girl of Mur-y-Castell-blog.

Sometimes you just have to...
———


I feel dead inside. That’s what reading this book has done to me. I. feel. dead. inside.


Background information:
Earlier this year, I stumbled upon an incident—I lie, there were several—that inspired me to create such shelves as not-for-me and authors-behaving-badly and add this book with all the other books accredited to Jamie McGuire on them. This explains the first comment on this review thread.

I was angry and I rated the book poorly. Then I got over it and removed the rating, and for a while, forgot this book existed.

Ah, those were the happy days.

Then came summer and Simon & Schuster announced their massive brain fart of acquiring this novel and reprinting it. They made the choice to enhance their marketing campaign by allowing free review copies distributed through NetGalley. This was my one chance to read the novel for free and rate it in exchange for this simple tag:

I received an Advanced Readers Copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley.

In this case, the Advanced Readers Copy means the superficially edited self-published version.


Actual review:
I hated it. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t want to hate it. I don’t enjoy reading bad books for fun—I don’t like tormenting myself with bad literature—but neither do I start a book expecting to find something positive or other redeemable qualities. I don’t artificially skew my perception just so I can lie about what a good book this is.

It’s not.

Though McGuire seems incapable of using simple he said/she said dialogue tags, there were moments, bits of dialogue, and a set up most promising that in the hands of any other talented or even a competent author could have been solid gold. It could have been the the story of two flawed people falling in love and perhaps changing for the better even if not transforming utterly normal people instead of romanticised description of abuse and misogyny. There were things Travis said or did that in any other setting and context would have been touching, sweet, deliciously heart-rending—but this was Travis and those things were anything but.

“Coupled with the alcohol in my system, when he pulled my body against his, things came to mind that were anything but friendly.”

McGuire’s simplistic writing is readable, even likeable at times, but it’s also uneven. There are good bits and then there are horribly bad bits. There were times when I’d forget to stop and think what made sense and what didn’t, and I’d just plough through pages without even realising it. Then the only recollection I’d have was having felt something. If I wasn’t paying attention to what it made me feel, I would—could, possibly, perhaps—understand why some people would think this a good book.

But I didn’t just plough through the pages. I read them slowly, carefully taking notes and always thinking of what made sense and what didn’t—very little, as it turns out.

Can a story be character driven without characterisations?

Apart from Travis’ tattoos—those tattoos are mighty important since they define what he can study and what his future career is going to be—not a single character in this book is given a proper, layered, characterisation. Not all characters are given physical descriptions, even Shepley, who as Travis’ cousin-slash-roommate and America’s boyfriend is prominently portrayed secondary character, is never given a physical description. To this day I don’t have a clue as to what he looks like. I know Abby and America are both blonds, I know Travis is tattooed all over and has hazel eyes, I even have a vague impression of Parker, but other than that I do not know. It’s never revealed.

What I do know is that Shepley is the lapdog enabler. He exists to be America’s boyfriend and provide a link between Travis and Abby. He exists to among others to make excuses for Travis’ behaviour. He doesn’t have any other function in this story.

America-Alice is Abby’s best friend the Weathervane. Depending on the scene she’s either trying to keep Abby and Travis apart or trying to get them together. She’s always dreamt of her and Abby dating brothers or cousins, so they could become real family or something other. America exists to drive Abby around and to scold her either for resisting Travis or not resisting him enough.

Parker is the token third wheel, a secondary love interest option paper doll. He’s rich and a hardworking student, but ultimately he’s just another jerk and not a viable third corner of a triangle—and that honour he has to share with Jesse, the ex-boyfriend. Parker exists to flirt with Abby and to make Travis jealous when the mood strikes. He also exists to prompt a casual date rape scenario.

Finch is the token gay guy. He exists to provide Abby with alcohol and a shoulder to cry on whenever America is lip-locked with Shepley and too busy to notice.

Kara is the roommate who we never see. She exists to make a handful of accurate comments and remains the sole remotely likeable character in the book.

Abby giggles. She studies high school level biology in college and sucks at it. She apparently likes numbers but hardly ever talks about those classes. She has a dark, dark past that’s never talked about until it’s all that’s talked about. She likes to drink and plays a mean game of poker. All these details and I still don’t know what drives her. I don’t know what her inner passions are or how she thinks and the book is written from her perspective in the first person limited voice.

“This is hard for me, ya know. I feel like any second you’re going to figure out what a piece of shit I am and leave me. When you were dancing last night, I saw a dozen different guys watching you. You go to the bar, and I see you thank that guy for your drink. Then that douchebag on the dance floor grabs you.”

Travis prizefights for money. He’s a genius and he doesn’t need to study. Travis has a short temper, cocky attitude, a dead mother, four brothers and a father who taught him everything he knows about beating other people up. Travis has tattoos. Travis has a six pack—such a shame it’s not a twelve pack—and he’s never met a speed limit he couldn’t break. Drunk or sober.

“I wouldn’t have swung if I thought I could have hit you. You know that, right?”

Travis doesn’t hit Abby. He comes into the bathroom when she’s in the shower. He comes up with a bet to keep her in the house with her. He talks her into sleeping in the same bed as him, because he’s never brought a girl he’s fucked there. He forces her to change her clothes when she dresses up too sexy. He grabs her to keep her safe. He stalks her. He buys her a puppy to stop her from leaving. He scares her when she is in the car kissing another man. He trashes the house the morning after they have sex because she leaves and refuses to talk to him. He beats up several guys for simply touching her.

And she lets him.

”Travis’s behavior piqued their curiosity, and I subdued a smile at being the only girl they had seen him insist on sitting with.”

”It wasn’t Parker I was trying to impress. I wasn’t in a position to be insulted when Travis accused me of playing games, after all.”

Worse, she’s manipulating him right back. On one occasion Abby tells Travis to teach someone manners, and he beats the guy to a pulp. There aren’t any repercussions or a fallout. Several of these unprovoked attacks happen outside the illegal prizefighting circles with plenty of eyewitnesses around. Yet, Travis is never detained, arrested, or even confronted by his friends. They’re all making excuses for him.

Abby’s reactions to Travis’ behaviour make no sense. She’s either blaming herself or acting irrationally and manipulating the situation to her end. She’s playing with Travis just as much he’s playing with her as evidenced by the events of the night they first sleep together. She tells him he’s a virgin, he tells her he likes it rough, they have sex—one of the few times condoms were used—and in the morning, she leaves. He trashes the house. America the worst friend who ever lived, comes to get Abby to talk Travis down. Not to make sure that Abby is safe and sound and far away from the psycho as possible, but to fetch her to the house so she can talk to Travis and calm him. So she can understand him.

The abuse, the antifeminism, the misogyny, the casual slut shaming, rape threads, girl-on-girl hate, it’s all omnipresent. You can’t avoid it.

Character driven stories rely on one essential idea: That the main character learns something. That all the pain and heartache, all the adventures that they experience within the story enrich them as a human being and make them grow as a person. Not necessarily for the better, but simply more aware. On some level the characters do need to be conscious of their actions and choices they make in the end of the book in a way they weren’t at the start of it.

In this, Beautiful Disaster fails.

Travis does forsake all others but he isn’t any better taking into account Abby’s feelings in the end of the book than he is in the beginning of it. As for Abby, life is still a huge poker game she’ll bluff her way through like it was before she met Travis. Well, maybe not bluff, but she’s always had a talent of manipulating the cards in her favour.

Instead of bare boned characters who apparently learn nothing within the four hundred and twenty odd ebook pages, I could be talking about the overall plot of the book. Except, there isn’t one:

A girl goes to see a fight. A girl meets a boy. They skip time and become friends. They make a bet and end up living under the same roof. They dance around each other and a girl tries dating another guy. The boy gets jealous and they sleep together. The bet has ended and the girl leaves. Boy gets angry. Girl comes back. They fight and the girl tries to leave. The boy gets her a puppy to make her stay—

This isn’t a plot. This is a list of consecutive events describing a dysfunctional codependent relationship. Of course, we could call it a relationship drama, but we’d also have to redefine words relationship and drama. There’s no internal conflict. Nothing is addressed and nothing is learned. All obstacles are external ones and easily cast aside.

But this is a romance novel about two people finding love together, you say.

No. It’s not.

This is as mislabelled as a romance as it was mislabelled as a young adult novel. There is absolutely nothing romantic about this book. It’s the author’s ode to Edward Travis’ character. A controlling, abusive, stalker is in the centre of everything and the reader can’t escape him even when Abby is on a date with another man. The conversation always quickly returns to Travis and stays there.


By now the strikethroughs have become obvious; I’m bringing up the Twilight connection:

This book reads like a Twilight fanfiction or work heavily inspired by Twilight.

America behaves as bipolar as Alice, and Travis is set upon a pedestal and worshipped just like Edward was. Travis shares Edward’s penchant for speeding. Travis and Abby’s first date is in a restaurant where the waiter flirts with him and he starts questioning him over the food. The biology lessons and the absent parent figures. Abby likes to bite her lip almost as much as Kristen Steward in her portrayal of Bella Swan. Parker Hayes reads like a distorted Mike Newton. etc. etc.

There isn’t any proof that I’m aware of to show that this ever was posted and labelled as a Twilight fanfiction. I’m going to have to go with the “inspired” by Twilight theory and keep my opinions to myself…

It looks like I failed too.