Year: 2007

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Enoch, Suzanne: (03.5-04) Twice the Temptation; A Touch of Minx

Suzanne Enoch’s contemporary caper/romance series had a stealth entry with Twice the Temptation, which is basically her Remember When: two novellas linked by diamonds, one in each of the author’s principal genres. The first, “A Diamond or Forever,” is a Regency romance featuring Rick Addison’s ancestors which gave the book its cover (hence the stealth nature). I enjoyed this perfectly well, but didn’t find it notable enough to motivate me to read Enoch’s other Regencies. The other novella, “Diamonds Are Not A Girl’s Best Friend,” is the contemporary tale featuring Rick and Samantha Jellicoe. Perhaps because I was a bit under the weather when I read it a while ago, it made me cranky: I didn’t approve of the way the ongoing power and trust struggles played out.

The fourth novel in the series, A Touch of Minx, is a lot better (even if its title has nothing to do with anything). Samantha is juggling two retrieval jobs, a set of valuable stolen museum goods and an anatomical classroom model (as a favor to an honorary niece), which amused me inordinately. Plus, in her personal life, Rick is getting impatient with her ongoing commitment issues.

I liked the actual plot in this one, and the continuing development of secondary characters. I still skip the sex scenes (not only are they repetitive, but I am jarred by Enoch’s word choices), but otherwise this was good winter-afternoon reading.

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Pullman, Philip: (01) The Golden Compass

After watching the movie adaptation of Philip Pullman’s The Golden Compass last night, I gave the book a quick re-read today.

The book is better, as it makes more sense and is far less anvilicious. I love the rich strange compelling nature of the world-building and the characters here, and the range of emotions, and the hints at hugely ambitious goings-on. My memory of it is by far the clearest of the series, though I’m not sure if that’s because I liked it best or I just had more opportunties to re-read. I’m likely to go on and re-read the second book, too, though I’m unsure whether I’ll bother with the third, which I do not remember fondly—which puts me in the odd position of not recommending this book, for all that it’s excellent.

(I’ve just noticed that our mass market edition, a first edition of Del Rey’s May 1997 printing, promises an introduction by Terry Brooks on its cover, but contains no such thing inside. I can’t say I regret the omission.)

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Chase, Loretta: (101) Miss Wonderful

After reading Mr. Impossible, I went back to the beginning of Loretta Chase’s series with Miss Wonderful. To my surprise and delight, this was very close to being just as good.

Alistair Carsington has a history of falling in love “quickly, deeply, and disastrously.” (The list of his “Episodes of Stupidity” in the Prologue is wonderful.) After the last scandal, his father packed him off into the army, just in time for him to be seriously injured at Waterloo. Now a reluctant war hero, he is determined to save his fortune, and the fortune of his friend, by getting a canal approved.

Mirabel Oldridge has been running her botanist father’s estates for years, and vehemently opposes the canal plan. She’s not alone in her opposition–but she’s the only one willing to stand against a noble-born war hero.

One of the things I like about Chase’s books to date is that they’re about something other than the romance plot. Here, the proposed canal poses a genuine dilemma, and I admire its handling more than I can say without spoilers. More, it’s intertwined with character problems and growth that are, again, independent of the romance plot. Being both sensible and charming is a good trick, but one which this book manages.

My only quibble is with the book’s portrayal of recovering from post-traumatic stress disorder, which struck me as edging toward facile. Which is peculiar, because the book’s treatment of reactions to Waterloo seemed nuanced otherwise. It’s a very small element of the book, however, which I enjoyed very much.

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Wilks, Eileen: (03) Blood Lines

Eileen Wilks’ Blood Lines concludes the trilogy started by Tempting Danger. Magic levels are rising dangerously and unpredictably, which is bad enough on its own, but someone is using the power spikes to summon demons to attack the lupi.

Besides liking the prior two books in the series, I was favorably inclined toward this book from the opening of Chapter One:

The National Symphony’s performance of Handel’s Messiah had started at eight thirty, so the choir was winding up the “Hallelujah Chorus” when the lead tenor turned into a wolf.

And for quite a while, the book lives up to that, moving briskly and with an engaging sense of heightened jeopardy.

Unfortunately the plot’s climax is a rickety contrivance that pushed me out of the story. I’m also not happy with the way the story treats Cynna, a major character introduced in the prior book. As she is one of the main characters of the next book (which appears to go off in a different direction, plot-wise), I’ll be looking for an acknowledgment of these problems. So, not as good as the prior books, but I won’t be ditching the series quite yet.

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Shinn, Sharon: (02-04) The Thirteenth House; Dark Moon Defender; Reader and Raelynx

I read the second and third books in Sharon Shinn’s Twelve Houses series in paperback a few weeks ago, and the fourth and most recent from the library recently. On the whole, I found these cozy entertainment, though nothing impressive in terms of form or content.

Well, with the exception of The Thirteenth House, the second book, which does two things: it explores the political situation of the twelve noble houses and their vassals, the House of the title. And it is the story of how Kirra and the potential regent—the married potential regent—fall in love. Unfortunately the book suffers from a fundamental structural imbalance, the complete failure to do justice to Donnal, Kirra’s devoted and constant companion. This Donnal-shaped hole is a fatal distraction for me.

The third book, Dark Moon Defender, is a better, more balanced book. It examines the religious order that murders mystics and supports rebellion against the king, through a convent novice who gradually realizes the true aims of the order and the danger it places her in. This is a somewhat conventional story of love and adventure, but I liked the characters and found it an enjoyable read.

At this point, my overall impression of the series was that the broader plot was developing very slowly. I also didn’t really think it would culminate in a war, for all that everyone kept predicting one, because it just didn’t feel like that kind of series. I also saw news on Shinn’s site (non-linkable Flash) about a potential fifth book, and so thought there was more space for the plot to develop in.

Well, Reader and Raelynx, the fourth book, proved me wrong. It does wrap up the arc begun in the first book, and it does include a war. Overall, I found its answers and resolutions satisfying, particularly the mythic aspects of the final confrontation. One or two of the scenes strained my suspension of disbelief, and I’m not sure I like the very end; but on the whole I found it very good comfort reading. I should note, however, that something about these books nearly mutes my critical facilities; I don’t know whether that’s cause or effect, but readers should take these comments with a grain of salt.

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Wilks, Eileen: (02) Mortal Danger

After reading Eileen Wilks’ Mortal Danger, the sequel to Tempting Danger, I’m doing something unprecedented on this booklog and moving the series out of the category where it’s shelved in bookstores. Yes, if you’re looking for these, you’ll have to go into the romance section, but with this book the series moves firmly into fantasy territory, and continuing to call it a romance would create incorrect reader expectations.

(I realize the covers have, as Chad said, girl cooties all over them. Nevertheless: not a romance novel.)

Thanks to loose ends from the last book, Lily Yu finds herself the victim of a puzzling demonic attack. This kicks off a fantasy/adventure plot which moves along nicely and allows additional worldbuilding, including more about the lupi’s culture and an interestingly different Dis. I don’t think I’ll be putting these on any best-of lists, but they’re competently entertaining and if you’re in the mood for something urban or paranormal, you could do far worse than to give them a try.

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Robb, J.D.: (25) Creation in Death

Creation in Death, the most recent J.D. Robb novel, is a nicely-paced, straight-ahead police procedural. The killer responsible for a series of torture murders nine years ago is back, and Eve Dallas and the rest of the police department race the clock to find him before he finishes killing his victims.

For all that I quibble with aspects of this series, it is hugely readable, and this one is particularly so, with a very effective sense of urgency and tension. I also liked what it does with the character of Ariel, and the nice moment it gives Morris.

Obligatory quibbles: the author forces Eve to silently ignore an obvious follow-up question (I mean so obvious that even I was waiting for it) to drag the story out a little longer. (Possibly also to act stupidly later for extra tension, but I’m not as sure about that.) And I wasn’t quite convinced by one of the personal conflicts that accompanies the main plot.

But, on the whole, I think this is probably one of the better books in the series, and I enjoyed it a lot.

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Dahl, Roald: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

I listed to Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as read by Eric Idle. I don’t think I can say anything new about the book overall: its fantastic inventiveness, its peculiarity, and its cruel streak are all much-remarked. So instead I’ll make a couple of comments about the listening experience.

Idle does a very enjoyable job generally, but I wish the producer had managed his volume better. Generally, when a character whispers on the page, the reader should not whisper, because it’s too hard for a listener to make out the words. (Ditto shouting, though that’s more a matter of sparing the listener’s ears.) Experienced audiobook readers manage the intensity of their reading rather than the volume, which works much better.

The other thing about listening is that it made me wonder where the book was supposed to be set. I’d always assumed it was in Britain, as Dahl was a British writer and it has that indefinably British air. However, though Idle gives Charlie and his family British accents, the money Charlie finds in the street is a dollar bill, and some of the other children have American accents. It’s a bit peculiar, though only distracting in the slower pace of an audiobook.

I don’t remember a thing about the sequel, and look forward to rediscovering it.

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Chase, Loretta: (102) Mr. Impossible

Loretta Chase’s Mr. Impossible was very favorably reviewed back when it came out, so I picked up a copy and left it on the shelf to age. On Halloween, I was cranky about trick-or-treaters interrupting me and agitating the dog, so I picked it up as likely to cheer me up.

Well, this was simply adorable: a fun, sweet, solid romance. I finished it and immediately ordered all of Chase’s other available books from Amazon and Fictionwise (one was only available as an e-book).

Daphne Pembroke is a widow living in Cairo and studying Egyptology. However, thanks to 1820s prejudice against women scholars, she passes her linguistic work off as her brother’s. This backfires when her brother buys her a particularly fine papyrus that is rumored to contain the location of an undiscovered royal tomb. Now he’s been kidnapped and the papyrus stolen by a ruthless, slightly deranged antiquities seeker. When Daphne asks the British counsulate for help, it kills two birds with one stone and has her bail Rupert Carsington out of jail to act as her assistant. (He’s been imprisoned for stopping the pasha’s soldiers from beating a beggar—not the first time he’s been in trouble—and the consulate is finding him expensive.)

Rupert resembles Ivan Vorpatril, without all the trauma. He spends the early part of the book being provokingly stupid, at first because he’s bored in jail and then to distract Daphne from her anxiety. He’s not just comic relief, of course, being perceptive and straightforwardly commonsensical. Perceptive about people, that is: he’s not much for self-analysis, and so doesn’t quite know what to make of the fact that he doesn’t just want to get Daphne naked.

For Daphne’s part, she comes to appreciate Rupert’s support and admiration (once he stops being deliberately provoking, that is). She’s spent years suppressing her passions, and then Rupert comes along and is impressed by her intellect; teaches her to use a pistol; trusts her to rescue herself; and, of course, gets her naked. The book is thus a lovely combination of Daphne learning to fill her own skin and the two of them gradually, convincingly getting to know and rely on each other.

Another thing I liked about this book is that it doesn’t have Daphne discover an unknown tomb or make a breakthrough translation of hieroglyphics or anything like that (which is sadly common in historical stories). The book shows us that Daphne is smart, and doesn’t need to rewrite history to hammer the point home. Similarly, it effectively employs period beliefs such as bodily humors and the formal use of names (and quietly critiques others, like the wholesale looting of Egypt’s antiquities). I’m sure a scholar would find things to criticize about the historical details, but the characters don’t feel like modern people playing dress-up, which is refreshing. (The secondary characters are also fun, including the mongoose.)

I recommend this highly and am looking forward to reading more of Chase’s books.

(The book is part of a series, but stands alone well.)

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Brockmann, Suzanne: (12) All Through the Night

Suzanne Brockmann’s All Through the Night is the sequel to Force of Nature, and a bit of a departure, for three reasons. First, it’s a wedding book, and almost all prior weddings in the series have taken place off stage. Second, the plot contains much less emphasis on suspense. And third, two men are getting married.

In other words, Jules and Robin have moved to Massachusetts for work reasons and, at the start of the book, decide to get married. The run-up to the wedding includes the home renovations from hell, a deceitful newspaper reporter, a nuisance-making ex, and a crazy stalker. The focus of the book is, however, squarely on Jules and Robin’s relationship: the stalker is part of less than half the book, and the secondary romance thread is underwritten to the point of being unconvincing. (For those who’ve read “Winterfair Gifts,” Lois McMaster Bujold’s wedding novella that I appear never to have booklogged, it’s basically the inverse of that.) Fortunately, there’s still plenty of development of Jules and Robin’s relationship to fill the book; though marked as a “holiday novella,” it’s a satisfying read at 300 pages (84,000 words).

Oddly, then, this may not be a bad book to start reading the series, as it’s shorter, more focused, and less dependent on backstory than many in the series. It would also give the new reader an idea whether they don’t mind Brockmann’s political commentary, which is on full display here. (She is donating all income from this book to Mass Equality.) I enjoyed it a lot, for all that the external plots are rather thin, and am happy to leave the series here for a while.

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