No, this has nothing to do with my personal quest to find a soulmate via the IntarWebz or some other means, but is rather a post about romance novels set in India. I really have no general preference when it comes to my romance protagonists. I’ll read just about anything, white man/white woman, interracial, etc.… Read More Romance: doing it by halves.
My head throbs from a caffeine hangover and my veins feel sluggish, like I’ve been dosed with morphine. Snow falls on New York on the second day of spring, and I realize, belatedly, that Living Dead Girl, by Elizabeth Scott, is the absolute wrong book to read on the subway in the mornings. It’s not… Read More With one flat foot on the devil’s wing…
Is it hard to call a spade a spade when you know the person who crafted the tool? You betcha. I write critical commentary for a living, and keeping a certain objective distance can be incredibly difficult when you have what some would regard as a personal relationship with the subject being analyzed. If you’re… Read More Calling a spade a spade when you know who crafted the tool.
HarperCollins sent me an ARC of Mr. Cavendish, I Presume, by Julia Quinn, and I presume that was due to my raving about The Lost Duke of Wyndham here. Despite the fact that there are no soap actors on the cover this time, I was utterly delighted. I started it reading it at my desk… Read More Julia Quinn serves up a delicious Cavendish.
In between unsuccessful attempts to get some writing done, I finished reading two new romance novels: The Lost Duke of Wyndham by Julia Quinn, and The Charm School, by Susan Wiggs. Quinn’s work offered up one of the most engaging heroes I’ve come upon in a romance in a while, Jack Audley, while Wiggs’ gave… Read More You probably don’t know Jack.
Anyone who has ever watched a soap opera for more than a few episodes knows that the genre thrives on romance, on love, on sex… and also knows that there is no such thing as a happily ever after. You can have the most beautifully told, drawn-out, love story of the last five years, but… Read More So much for my happy ending.
I finished No Humans Involved, by Kelley Armstrong last night, and I was very, very happy with it. In a literary era where even the whisper of “urban fantasy” fiction makes my skin crawl and the bile rise in my throat, I’ve come to only rely on two specific authors, Armstrong and Kim Harrison, for… Read More You can’t have a necromancer without “romance.”
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