Fifty Shades of Fever

I wasn’t planning on blogging about the E.L. James series until a recent conversation with a friend. She asked me if I’d read the books.

Yes.” I admitted with a slightly guilty smile. In my defense, however, I read the print versions and did not find it necessary to conceal the highly-recognizable covers.

“I couldn’t make it past the first one.” My friend shared with an equally sheepish face.

I pondered her words. While I could understand why she felt that way, I thought that she should read all 3 books before writing the entire series off. And I told her so.

“Why?” My friend is nothing if not practical.

My short answer: I thought that Ana and Christian’s journey was interesting.

Okay, the sex wasn’t bad either.

After our conversation, I got to wondering if I could explain the strange fascination—dare, I say fever—with James’ series? Certainly the Fifty Shades trilogy has spun the women of this country into “a state of nervous excitement or agitation.” (Yes, I googled the definition of “fever” to make sure I was using it in context.)

So here goes. And guys, like Soap Opera Digest columnist Carolyn Hinsey says, “It’s only my opinion.”

By the time I was curious enough to read Fifty Shades of Grey, the other two books had been published. That was good. It would have pissed me off to have to wait between the first and second book. (Spoiler alert—Ana and Christian break up at the end of the first book.) Luckily, they were only apart for the five minutes or so it took me to pick up Fifty Shades Darker. I read Fifty Shades Freed immediately after and I am not ashamed to say that I enjoyed the trilogy immensely.

But why?

There’s been a lot written about the subversive effect of these books. Many readers espouse that James’ books are degrading to women and an unwelcome return to the “bodice rippers” of the past, i.e., books written by authors like Catherine Coulter, Johanna Lindsey, and Bertrice Small. Certainly Catherine Coulter’s writing has evolved. I am a big fan of her Sherlock and Savich FBI series. Today Coulter’s characters are strong, intelligent, and fully-realized heroines. As a longtime Lindsey fan, I would say that her writing has changed as well. It’s been years since she wrote about a pretty young thing being abducted and forced into sexual slavery—Captive Bride (1977) and Silver Angel (1988). Bertrice Small…not so much. Based on a recommendation from my library, I recently read Bianca: the Silk Merchant’s Daughter. Bertrice Small still writes a mean “bodice ripper,” however, my taste has evolved.  

Other readers are turned off by the S&M that serves as an important backbone of the Fifty Shades trilogy. After everything I’d heard about the series, I was actually surprised by how “vanilla” the S&M turned out to be. One over-energetic spanking at the end of book one, and Ana immediately breaks it off with Christian. (So, um, I guess Ana didn’t actually read that sexual contract Christian presented her with at the start of the relationship.)

Some readers saw Christian’s lifestyle choice as a way to dominate and degrade the women in his life. I saw the same choice as a defense mechanism for someone who’d been abused as a boy. Spoiler alert—I was right! Christian was abused as a child by a drug addict mother and her cohorts, and then again as a teenager by a blonde Mrs. Robinson. In fact, I guessed early on that the Fifty Shades trilogy would turn out to be the story of how the innocent Ana saves the sadistic Christian—not the story of how the sadistic Christian defiles the innocent Anna.

And, along the way, they had some pretty hot sex.

So why did I enjoy the Fifty Shades trilogy so much? Because at its heart, Ana and Christian’s story is the classic tale about a “good” girl who wins her “bad” boy—and that’s right up my alley. I just love me some “bad” boy. Now, if we only had more women’s fiction about the “good” boy who wins his “bad” girl. I find that scenario equally engaging, and I blame the debacle that was Grease 2 for why the literary world and Hollywood avoids that story.

So, if you’re not a fan of good girls saving bad boys, here are three other benefits to reading E.L. James Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy:

1.       It gives hope to everyone who writes fan fiction and has secretly wanted to publish. In fact, the books will likely make you feel better about your own writing skills.

2.       It may just improve your sex life. If you’re like me, reading a book is often the last thing I do before I go to sleep. (Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge.)

3.       It extends the life of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series. Love Bella and Edward? Try Ana and Christian. It’s like Twilight—only with A LOT of sex. In other words, less starry-eyed gazing and more starry-eyed spanking.

The Buttercup Effect

The Princess Bride is one of my favorite movies. What’s not to love? The movie (and the book) have it all—R.O.U.S’s, a six-fingered man, deadly iocane powder, a gentle giant. Even Buttercup’s hair deserves a shout-out. Disney’s princesses have nothing on Robin Wright’s golden waves. But if I had to pick my favorite part of The Princess Bride, it would be the love story between Westley and Buttercup. They share a once-in-a-lifetime, happily-ever-after love. Kinda like the love between Bella and Edward. Only instead of happily-ever-after, the two vampires are more forever and ever after. Spending eternity together, that’s quite a commitment.

The only downside about that type of love is that it doesn’t come along very often. I read a lot of books about love. And the heroine always lands her man at the end. But would I stake my life on the long-term success of those relationships? Hardly. And that’s what makes the love between Buttercup and Westley and Bella and Edward so special. It is an intense, all-encompassing, throw yourself down a very steep hill or in front of a deadly vampire kind of love.

Clary and Jace, the two main characters in Book One of Cassandra Clare’s The Mortal Instruments series, have this kind of love. I wish I could say that’s why I bought the book, but I’d be lying. Nope, I picked up the book solely for its cover. The shirtless, leanly-muscled, tousled-haired golden boy is just my kind of eye candy. But don’t take my word. See for yourself ( http://www.cassandraclare.com/cms/works ). That said. I would not have stayed with the series for the next three books and counting if Clare had not crafted an amazing story. Like Princess Bride, City of Bones has it all—forbidden love, tortured familial relationships, unsolved mysteries, burning quests for vengeance. And did I mention the angels, demons, vampires, werewolves, and faeries? Oh my!  

City of Bones starts strong and never lets up. Like Alice, Clary stumbles into a rabbit hole. In this case, it is the world of the Shadowhunters, a secret group of nephilim (angel) warriors tasked with protecting the human race against demons. This war and the uneasy relationship the Shadowhunters have with the Underworlders—creatures like vampires, werewolves, faeries, and such—all takes place right under the nose of a clueless human population. And then one night Clary witnesses Jace and his sort-of-adopted siblings, Isabelle and Alec, battle and kill a demon. They’re surprised when Clary is able to see them; shocked when she’s bold enough to question their actions. Perhaps this explains Jace’s immediate fascination with the red-head. We know why Clary falls for the arrogant Jace. Need a reminder? Take a look at the cover to the upcoming fifth book in the series:  http://cassie-claire.com/cms/home. This insta-attraction does not sit well with Clary’s best friend, Simon, who’s clearly hoping for more than friendship. Alas, Simon and we readers know that will never happen. From their first scene, Clary and Jace have IT—that undeniable, I’ve just met my soul-mate kind of connection.

Unfortunately the terms soul-mates and star-crossed lovers are often used interchangeably. And Clary and Jace are no exception. First, Clary’s mother, Jocelyn, is kidnapped (killed?) by demons unknown. And then Clary finds out that her whole life has been a lie. She is not an average human. Clary is a Shadowhunter like Jace, Isabelle, and Alec, and she was denied her heritage by her mother. And then Clary finds out that Luke, her mother’s long-time boyfriend and the closest person Clary has ever known to a dad, is a—wait for it—werewolf. But Clary’s baggage is nothing compared to the weight Jace carries around on his narrow but muscular shoulders. Yummy! Jace’s father is the evil Valentine Morgenstern. Think Voldemort, only more attractive. And just like Voldemort, the supposedly dead Valentine turns up alive and in search of a magical artifact, the Mortal Cup. With this “instrument,” Valentine plans to create a powerful army to slaugher not only demons, but also all Downworlders. Yeah, Jace’s Dad is a hater. Worse, he’s a racist who thinks the nephilim should reign over all. Unfortunately for Clary, Valentine thinks Jocelyn has the Mortal Cup, and he makes it pretty clear that he’ll do anything to get it. And if he kills some Downworlders and breaks a few hearts along the way, even better. And that’s just what Valentine does, revealing a terrible secret that rips our star-crossed lovers apart and sends Clary fleeing into the arms of the reliable Simon.

What a monumentally bad choice that turns out to be. I won’t ruin the plot, but visualize the scene in The Princess Bride where the old hag boos and hisses at Buttercup.

You had love in your hands, and you gave it up. Your true love lives. And you marry another. True Love saved her in the Fire Swamp, and she treated it like garbage. And that's what she is, the Queen of Refuse. So bow down to her if you want, bow to her. Bow to the Queen of Slime, the Queen of Filth, the Queen of Putrescence. Boo. Boo. Rubbish. Filth. Slime. Muck. Boo. Boo. Boo.

That’s about how I felt when Clary starts making a series of very bad decisions. Of course, the rebellious Jace shoulders a lot of the blame. Jace is so gun-ho to “save” his True Love that he is constantly acting without thinking—usually resulting in a serious ass-kicking by various evil-doers. As much as I enjoy Clare’s Mortal Instruments series, I cop to sometimes wanting to shake Clary and Jace. Then I sigh, remind myself that they’re young, and dive back into the book. But if I could offer advice to the star-crossed lovers, I would tell Jace to start channeling his inner Westley.

Hear this now: I will always come for you. This is true love. You think this happens every day? Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.

And that, my dear readers, is what I call the Buttercup Effect. May we all be so lucky to experience it.

Things that Go Bump in the Night

These words are part of a short traditional Scottish prayer.

From ghoulies and ghosties
And long-leggedy beasties
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us!

When that prayer was written, people probably believed it was ghouls and ghosts they needed to fear. Today…not so much. Vampires are sexy. Witches can be good—even the bad ones get their own Broadway musicals. And Demi and Patrick showed us that it can be sexy to make out with a ghost. No, people today have a whole different set of fears: nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons; terrorists; gangs and drug lords; and killing sprees like the ones at Columbine, Virginia Tech, and in Norway. The list is nearly endless. And the people who recited the old Scottish prayer would probably stick with their ghoulies, ghosties, and long-leggedy beasties. (Although my husband would probably put spiders on his top 10 list of fears.)

I don’t scare easily, certainly not by bumps in the night. It’s actually utter silence I find more disturbing. When I was little, I used to have a recurring dream about a woman with a mustache. I know, I know. It seems funny now. But all through elementary and middle school, this woman haunted my dreams. The nightmares were always similar. The woman would come into my house when my family was sleeping and try to take me away. Sometimes she would use a ladder and come through my window. Other times, she would slither out of my closet. To this day, it makes me uncomfortable to sleep with my closet open. The other constant: the woman never made a sound. Neither did I. Our battles were fought in silence, while my parents and brother slept peacefully just a few feet away.

So what does this have to do with my blog? Well, horror is today’s topic. I like scary books. Stephen King is amazing. Peter Straub easily induces chills. I read Red Dragon—where Hanibal Lecter is first introduced—when I was probably too young and without my parent’s permission. But books don’t scare me. At least not until the night I started reading Intensity by Dean Koontz.   

The main character, Chyna Shepherd, has come to Napa Valley with a friend, Laura Templeton, to visit Laura’s family farm. Like me, Chyna finds it difficult to fall asleep in a strange place. So she is awake to hear the first scream. So faint, Chyna almost doesn’t recognize the sound. Even after the second cry, she’s convinced the noises are coming from outside. At the soft thump, Chyna instinctively recognizes that evil is inside.

Following the stifled cries and the soft thump, silence sifted down like snowfall. The hush was eerily deep, as unnatural as that in which the deaf lived. This was the stillness before the pounce, the quietude of the coiled snake. In another part of the house, someone was standing as motionless as she herself was standing, as alert as she was, intently listening. Someone dangerous.

I recognize the scene. My mustachioed woman has returned. I am officially spooked. But I’m also hooked, and I can’t put the book down.

Footsteps. Evil is coming. As Chyna slithers silently under her unmade bed, I am right there with her among the dust bunnies. I scrunch my nose against the urge to sneeze. No one can know we are here.

Wait a second, I can sneeze. I am at home in Bowie, Maryland—not the Napa Valley. I am letting my imagination run away with me. I am also slightly ashamed. Chyna is much braver than I am.

Evil has killed Laura’s entire family. And he has done unmentionable things to Laura, who is still alive.

No one can know what they would do in such a horrific situation. I hope I wouldn’t run away, or worse, hide, choosing not to help my friend. I hope I would be as strong as Chyna. The next 100 pages are so “intense” my hand holding the book is cramping.

When the man carries Laura outside and puts her into an RV, Chyna heroically sneaks aboard. My heart breaks with hers, when Chyna realizes she is too late and her friend is dead. And now the RV is moving, and Chyna is trapped with not one, but two bodies.

About this time, I’d probably pee my pants. Thankfully, we’re stopping at a convenience store—okay, time to reel my imagination back in. And perhaps a bathroom break is in order.

After two more brutal murders (this guy means business) Chyna again has the chance to escape. But evil has bragged to the store clerk about a 16-year-old girl he is holding captive in his basement. It’s decision time. Does Chyna hide and take the chance that evil will get away—escaping punishment for what he did to Laura and her family? And what about the innocent teenager, who evil calls Ariel? In Chyna’s own words:

Throughout her childhood, no one had ever held out a hand to her. No one had ever cared that she was trapped, frightened, and helpless.

Chyna refuses to do that to Ariel. Chyna will take a stand against evil.

Eventually, I have to put the book down and go to sleep. The woman with the mustache visits me that night. But Chyna has emboldened me. I am not a child. I am not afraid. Instead, I tell the woman to shave. I have conquered my childhood fear. Thank you Chyna and Dean Koontz.

Witchy Woman

I’ve been a Charlaine Harris and Sookie Stackhouse fan for years. To be honest, however, I hate the covers. Vampires are supposed to be sexy. The pallid creatures on the Sookie Stackhouse books should be staked and put out of their misery. Call me superficial, but that’s why I avoided the series until book four: Dead to the World. Yes, the blonde vampire on the cover was one of the ugliest blood-suckers I’d ever seen, but it was time. I’d heard good things about the series, and my mother (who is not a fan of vampires) had enjoyed other books by Harris. Of course the book was great, and I immediately purchased the first three in the series. But I still find it difficult to reconcile how Harris describes her characters, like the oh-so-sexy Viking vampire Eric Northman, with how they are portrayed on the cover art. And don’t even get me started on Sookie’s hair. In the books, the silky blonde locks are her pride and joy; on the covers, Sookie’s hair resembles straw—both in color and texture.

But I digress. Between the popular novels and the critically acclaimed HBO television series, I’m sure most people are familiar with the trials and tribulations of the Southern-bread Sookie. So instead, I offer an alternative to fans of Charlaine Harris and Sookie Stackhouse, and their names are Kimberly Frost and Tammy Jo Trask. (Apparently, you can take the White Trash out of the girl, but not out of her name.)

When I saw Frost’s Would-Be Witch on the shelves of my local Borders (RIP), the cover grabbed my attention. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not, but the artwork definitely stood out from the rest of the books. And the unusual cover was what made me pick up the book. What led me to ultimately purchase the book were these words: “A terrific new series from a wonderful new author.” Two of my favorite things—a freshman author and a first in a series.

Frost and Tammy Jo did not disappoint. In fact, it was a delicious read—frothy and fun, with just the hint of something dark.

When readers are first introduced to Tammy Jo, it’s clear our spunky Texan is at a bit of a crossroad. She’s a witch with no apparent powers. The one skill she does have—cooking—is not enough to keep her from being fired from the local bakery. She’s divorced, but still allowing her Alpha-male ex, Zach, the town sheriff, to make bootie calls. She’s dead broke and forced to hock her jewelry to a lecherous pawn store owner. Then things go downhill from there in the form of ghosts, zombies, werewolves, cross-dressing vampires, and an ocelot?

I admit I had to look that one up. I knew it was a cat, but other than that I was clueless. Turns out the ocelot—as defined in Merriam’s—is a medium-sized American wildcat that ranges from Texas to Northern Argentina. In pictures it looks a little like a miniature leopard. And in a strange coincidence, an ocelot featured heavily in the TV show I half-watched last night with my husband. For the curious, it was Archer, an animated series on FX—totally wrong, and yet so very funny.

But back to Tammy Jo. While her mother and aunt are off to mysterious and undisclosed places, Tammy Jo is tasked with protecting a family heirloom—a locket that allows Tammy Jo to communicate with Edie, her great-great-Grandmother’s dead twin sister. Why is Edie connected to the locket? And why is Edie sticking around this two-bit Texas town instead of sailing forth to the great beyond? Frost doesn’t tell us yet, but I sense that it is a mystery she will unfold through the series. All we do know is that Edie was a wild-child flapper and that she was murdered by some unknown assailant. If you want my guess, it will have something to do with another famous line of witches with the surname Lyons.

 And speaking of the infamous Lyons, the oh-so-delectable (and wealthy) Bryn Lyons is at the party where Tammy Jo’s locket is stolen. After Tammy Jo’s failed attempts to use magic to retrieve the locket and Edie, the town’s reigning wizard, Bryn, offers to help. Now Tammy Jo is in a bit of a pickle. The good news: Bryn is hot with a capital “H.” The bad news: the Lyons’ family is on the witches’ infamous “List of Nine,” meaning no Trask is allowed to interact with any Lyons.

Frost uses this dire and mysterious warning, as well as the hunky Zach, to keep Tammy Jo and Bryn apart. But their chemistry is undeniable and the two soon hit the sheets. Unfortunately, their passion rages a little too far out of control. During the steamy encounter, Bryn gets “high” on their combined power and drains Tammy Jo dry—literally, taking all of her magic. Definitely a setback to that courtship. While the effect is temporary and Tammy Jo does regain her wonky magic, she is not too happy with Bryn. Sigh. It looks like our hero has his wooing work cut out for him. Luckily Bryn has the next two books, Barely Bewitched and Halfway Hexed, to make it up to Tammy Jo. And while I won’t spoil the plot, this savvy reader thinks it’s only a matter of time before Tammy Jo and Bryn accept their fate as star-crossed lovers. Until they do, however, I’ll sit back and enjoy the ride on Tammy Jo’s broom. 

Soapstruck

It is one week today that ABC’s One Life to Live went off the air. And instead of focusing on which book I want to blog about, I’m feeling nostalgic about a show that made me laugh out loud, brought me to tears, and inspired some major crushes. Yes, I’m a soap opera fan. And I’m proud of it. So before I go onto books (and don’t worry, I will eventually get there) I want to share how soaps have influenced what I watch and what I read.

I’m Holding Out for a Soul-Mate. From Luke and Laura (General Hospital) to Cruz and Eden (Santa Barbara) to Josh and Reva (Guiding Light), soaps created some amazing “Super-Couples.” And watching these characters fall in love, break up, and then find their way back together has provided countless hours of enjoyment. More important, it helped to instill in me a lifelong appreciation of the epic love story.

Heroines are Nice, but Vixens are Better. From Tina Lord Roberts, as portrayed by the amazing Andrea Evans, to Brenda Barrett, the incomparable Vanessa Marcil Giovinazzi, soaps created some of the most intriguing women on television. Sometimes they did really, really bad things. Exhibit A: Tina coming back from the dead, carrying a stolen infant, and informing a stunned Cord that he is the father—at the altar, seconds before he was to marry Kate. Sometimes they did really, really stupid things. Exhibit B: Brenda wearing a wire in front of boyfriend Sonny Corinthos in a desperate attempt to get him to leave the mob. No matter what crazy shenanigans these vixens got up to, they did it with style. So thank you, soap operas, for making me appreciate characters with a little bite. Or, in the case of vampires, a lot of bite. 


The Circle of Life. The Lion King owns the bragging rights to these words, but they also sum up how I feel about soaps. Characters are born, grow up, fall in love, have their hearts broken, die, get cloned, come back from the dead—or is it an unknown evil twin? Nope, it’s really them—fall in love (again), have their hearts broken (again), kill someone in a fit of jealous rage—no wait, that character’s not really dead—get stalked by the intended victim…You get the idea. Soap operas never end. And I, for one, love it. Which probably explains my addiction to all things serial.

And now back to books.

Like mysteries? Some of daytime’s brightest have picked up the pen. Shari Shattuck (formerly on The Young and the Restless) has created two intriguing characters in wealthy socialite Cally Wilde and LAPD detective Evan Paley. In her first book, Loaded, someone’s out to kill the beautiful Cally. Will the sexy Evan save her? I guess so, because Callie’s in trouble again in the second book, Lethal. After bravely taking a bullet for a young Asian woman, the two lovers have another mystery on their hands involving drugs, murder, and…geishas? The books are a fun and fast ride. In The Man She Thought She Knew, Evan asks Callie to marry him and then disappears. Kidnappings, corruption, and more dead bodies. You’ll have to read it for yourself to find out if Callie gets her happy ending.

Harley Jane Kozak played Mary Duvall on the now-defunct Santa Barbara. Her character remains in soap opera infamy for being killed by a large letter “C” on the roof of the Capwell Hotel. Don’t believe me? Check it out on YouTube at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAiupHXh4OM. Today Kozak is author of the Wollie Shelley mystery series. If you can get past the name, you’ll likely enjoy the character, a struggling greeting-card artist, and the trouble she falls into. For example, In Dating Dead Men, Wollie signs on to date 40 men in 60 days as research for a new book, How to Avoid Getting Dumped All the Time. Alas, Wollie does get dumped on—first by a dead body and then by a man on the run from the mob. In the sequel, Dating is Murder, Wollie gets back on the dating bandwagon by joining the cast of a reality TV show, Biological Clock. After being stalked by an assortment of oddball characters and threatened by a drug cartel, Wollie does find her Mr. Right in Simon, a hot FBI agent. The third book in the series, Dead Ex, centers around the murder of a soap opera producer and a talk show called SoapDirt. (As an aside, 2011 saw the first season of Dirty Soap, an E! reality TV show about—wait for it—soap opera stars. How funny is that?) In the most recent book, A Date You Can’t Refuse, Wollie goes undercover for the FBI as a “social coach” for foreign celebrities. Hey, I’m not making this up. Murder and mayhem ensue.

Soap-hopper Eileen Davidson (The Young and the Restless, Santa Barbara, Days of Our Lives, The Bold and the Beautiful) is also penning a mystery series about….daytime television. She introduces soap opera actress Alexis Peterson in Death in Daytime. In Dial Emmy for Murder, Alexis is a presenter at the Daytime Emmys. The other two books in the series include Diva Las Vegas and Swingin’ in the Rain. While I confess I’ve not yet read Davidson’s Soap Opera Mysteries, they are on my to-read list. And at least Davidson is still employed—for now. She currently plays Ashley Abbott on The Young and the Restless.

The same cannot be said for the charismatic Michael Easton, who played sexy (but mostly silent) über-detective John McBain on my beloved One Life to Live. So, if you like graphic novels, try out Easton’s Soul Stealer series: The Beaten and the Damned, Blood and Rain, and Last to Die. Book trailers for all three are available at: http://www.blackwatchcomics.com. As the novels are still sitting on my bookshelf waiting to be read—hey, there was a reason I called my blog, Too Many Books, Not Enough Time—I’ll let Easton tell you what the series is about in his own words:

At the end of the day, this is a love story. It's a dark and twisted love story, but it’s a love story. Love is one of the things worth fighting for in this world, and I believe I have that kind of love for my wife. I was a long time in finding her, and she has inspired me to explore the better sides of myself, because I have a tendency to be a little dark. (Read Easton’s full interview online at: www.newsarama.com/comics/100810-Easton-Soul-Stealer.html.)

Hmmm. Guess this explains why Easton was so good at brooding—both as Detective John McBain and as tortured vampire slash rocker Caleb Morley on the short-lived Port Charles.

And now for the really sad part. Daytime soaps are a dying breed. With only 4 left on the networks, if you have ever loved a soap opera—now is the time to watch. But if fans like us can’t save them, then I say join them—as in, join the actors who have brought us so many years of pleasure as they go onto new endeavors. 

The Magical, Mystery Tour

The circus arrived without warning—the opening lines of Erin Morgenstern’s debut novel. The words were apropos because that is how I felt from the minute I began her book. It’s always exciting to find a new author. It’s even better when the book is as transcendent as The Night Circus. The third line: It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. The image could just as well be describing Morgenstern’s eruption into the publishing industry.

To call Morgenstern a wordsmith is to call da Vinci a painter. And while da Vinci used a brush and oils to create his masterpieces, Morgenstern uses only words to construct a world that is just as magnificent and stimulating for her readers. Like J.K. Rowling’s fully-imagined Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Morgenstern has created a complex, magical world—albeit one that is found under a field of black and white circus tents.

After reading her description of the clock commissioned for Le Cirque des Rêves, I had to stop, take a breath, and study the passage again. It was unlike anything I’d ever read. From a simple device to tell time, Morgenstern turns her clock into what she calls “something else.” Something that you and I will likely never see outside of the author’s imagination—a clock whose pieces slowly turn themselves inside and out and change over the course of 24 hours to unveil a princess pacing anxiously in a tower and waiting for her prince, teapots that pour into teacups and then emit what looks like curls of steam, wrapped presents that open themselves, and so much more.  After the second reading, I was compelled to turn again to the all-too-brief author bio in the back: Erin Morgenstern is a writer and multimedia artist who describes all her work as “fairy tales in one way or another.”

At its heart, The Night Circus is a fairy-tale for adults.

The book hinges around a wager between two men—one a magician, Prospero, who pretends not to be doing real magic and the other a mysterious man known only as Alexander. Morgenstern skillfully leaves more concealed than revealed about these two characters, so it is up to the reader’s imagination to fill in the blanks of her canvas. I found myself questioning if they were men at all. What readers are told is that the two have a long and complex history. And that it’s not the first time they have played this game. This time around the opponents are Prospero’s natural-born daughter, Celia Bowen, and Marco, the orphan that Alexander adopts, or perhaps a better word would be appropriates, and trains. All else—characters, such as the charming clockmaker Herr Friedrick Thiessen and the mysterious and wise contortionist Tsukiko, plot, and setting—serve as an arena for the competition. Readers are left to wonder how this decades-long competition will be decided, who will choose the winner, and exactly what will happen to the loser. Although I won’t ruin it for those who haven’t yet read the book, the words “there can be only one” kept repeating in my head. This was unfortunate as I grew to love both players. And, of course, like the characters in every fairy tale ever written, Celia and Marco grow to love each other—desperately, passionately, and to the exclusion of all else.

If you haven’t read The Night Circus, I urge you to take the time to explore Morgenstern’s world. You will likely be as captivated as Bailey, a character in the book who explores the Labyrinth at Le Cirque des Rêves and finds it to be: “a dizzying network of chambers, interspersed with hallways, containing mismatched doors. Rooms that spin and rooms with glowing chessboard floors. One hall is stacked high with suitcases. In another it is snowing.”

For me, the opportunity to read a book that was truly magical, conjuring a world of unparallel delights and characters that I grew to care about, was a gift. And the world needs more of these types of gifts. But perhaps Morgenstern said it best herself when she describes the creation of the circus: “What it needs is style, panache. Ingenuity in its engineering and structure. To be infused with the mesmerizing, and perhaps a touch of mystery.”

And so, that’s just what Morgenstern gave us.

A So-So Year

Last year, for the very first time, I tracked every book I read. Diligently gathering titles, authors, and thumbnail cover illustrations, I compiled the information into a 10-page word document. I thought about including a synopsis or review of each book, but ultimately decided against it. After all, I never forget a book I’ve read—right? But who knows how long that’s going to last? So this year I plan to write a few sentences after I finish each one.

With this list in hand, I sat down to write my first blog for 2012. First step: a catchy title. Unfortunately, I gave away a really good title to a friend who blogs on food—Eat, Blog, Repeat. Wouldn’t that have been just as great as Read, Blog, Repeat? Maybe even a little better because of the alliteration? Sigh. So here I sit, racking my brain, and coming up empty. Not an auspicious beginning to 2012. Eventually I decide on a riff on Russell Crowe’s, A Good Year, a gem of a movie that never received the recognition it deserved. It’s a lazy choice, as my parents just watched the movie on Netflix, but there you have it.

I type the words and then go back to my 2011 reading list. Then something unexpected happens. I realize the title doesn’t actually work with what I'm about to write. It wasn’t a “Good Year.” In terms of reading, 2011 was only a “So-So Year.” Which begs the question—why? To answer that, I’ll have to mine my data. So, here goes.

Last year, I read a total of 108 books—not nearly as many as I thought I’d read. On average, it’s only slightly more than 2 books a week. In my defense, I subscribe to two weekly magazines that I read from beginning to end—even if I wasn’t interested in the subject. Don’t ask me why. I blame it on my OCD tendencies. Once I start reading something, I find it nearly impossible to stop. But back to my list. After doing some data diving, I start to notice some trends.

Trend # 1: The Resurgence of Regency. I read a whopping 33 regency romances in 2011—by far the largest category. In fact, it was followed a distant second by historical romances, which I categorize as anything outside of the regency period. I read 17 of those. Regency and historical romances are trending hot in the publishing industry. Don’t believe me? Just take a walk down your nearest romance aisle. Unfortunately, I found many of the new regencies and historicals enjoyable but virtually interchangeable. The standout was new author Kieran Kramer, who I blogged about last month (http://2manybooks-notenoughtime.blogspot.com/2011/12/with-little-help-from-my-friends.html). Perhaps that explains why I spent time re-reading some of my favorite regency and historical romances by Julie Garwood, who unfortunately has abandoned the crowded genre, and Suzanne Enoch, whose newest regency was the first book I read in 2012. I have my fingers crossed for new ones from Julia Quinn and Christina Dodd, which I have been saving for some uninterrupted reading time.

Trend #2: Vampires Still Bite. My next most popular choice of reading material was what I call “Romantic Fantasy.” I devoured 14 of them. While this category was still filled with fangs, I’m glad to report that I branched out with some witches, werewolves, dragons, demons, chimera, angels, warlocks, faeries, and one shape-shifter. How’s that for diversity? Unfortunately, like with Regencies, I found that many of the books I read last year came up short against ones I’d read previously. For example, while I still love the Jeaniene Frost series, I’ve only read the first three books multiple times. The notable exception was a relatively new author, Kimberly Frost, who I plan to blog about in 2012, so stay tuned.

Trend #3: It's Time to Re-brand Chick Lit. Apparently these two words have become a harbinger of doom in the publishing industry. Women find the words off-putting and demeaning; men are allergic to them. Then again, did the publishing industry really expect men to buy Chick Lit—literature intended to appeal primarily to women, especially books that emphasize human relationships and emotions rather than action or adventure, as defined by my brand-spanking new 5^th edition of the American Heritage Dictionary? Maybe it’s me, but if men don’t like to talk about or share their feelings, why would they want to read about them? My advice for chick lit authors who want to attract male readers—play up the humor and the sex. And if there’s a girl-on-girl fight, you’re solid. Now, I adore chick lit, but it’s getting hard to find. Some of them slip in under the romance sections; others are lost in the overflowing fiction or literature section. And then there are those chick lit books that randomly appear on end caps or in the “New in Fiction” or “New in Trade Paperbacks” tables at my local bookstore. This likely explains why I only read 5 of them last year. Still, 4 of them were among the books I enjoyed the most. My takeaway: Katie Fforde and Jill Mansell need to write faster!

Trend #4: YA is the New A. As embarrassing as it is to write, some of the best books I read last year were categorized as young adult. The genre is red hot. And it’s also the first to make really good use of Q-codes, book trailers, and mainstream advertising. Check out Cassandra Clare’s book trailers for Clockwork Angel at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SOxzLY2OpA&feature=related&noredirect=1 or City of Glass at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xU4hJAPXGPs&feature=relmfu. Like Suzanne Collin’s Hunger Games series, the first book in Clare’s Mortal Instruments series has been made into a movie that will be released this year. And I’m sure that Veronica Roth’s Divergent series will likely follow. So, for all of the adult readers out there who like fantasy, action, and/or romance, I suggest trolling the YA section of your local bookstore. It shouldn’t be hard to find. My Barnes and Noble recently moved it from the back of the store (next to the Children’s section) to right behind the dreaded Nook section.

Trend #5: Re-reading Books. I approach this last trend with a somewhat heavy heart. On the one hand, it gives validity to holding onto your books. Personally, I have an entire room devoted to my books. Because they currently share space with a guest bed, I’m always looking for new places to store my books. Just yesterday, I found a cute little project table that is held up at both ends by bookshelves. If I only had somewhere to put this innovative piece of furniture...On the other hand, it makes me sad to write that the “older” I get and the more books I read, the tougher it is to find truly exceptional books. Sure I've run across plenty of books that I enjoy or even love, but it’s been a long time since a book has knocked me on my ass or, as the British like to say, knocked me arse over tip. But I am ever going to stop searching for those rare treasures? Not on your life. In fact, one of those exceptional books is on my 2011 reading list. Hands down, the best book I read in 2011 was Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus. And I’ll be blogging on it next week.

Confessions of a 40-Something Twihard

I came late to the Twihard Party. Of course I’d heard about Stephenie Meyer and her books. But she was a YA (young adult) author, and I was staring at the big 40.  Would I even be able to relate to her characters? To my 12-year-old son, I’ve been old for years. But if the criteria are maturity and behavior, I’m pretty sure I peaked in high-school, which would make me the perfect age to read the Twilight series. I circled them for years in the bookstores. But when the last one came out in 2008, it was decision time. For me, it came down to two things—an overwhelming curiosity to see what had caused such frenzy and a love of fangs. (See my first blog post: http://2manybooks-notenoughtime.blogspot.com/2011/09/you-staked-me-at-hello.html.)

Once I started the books, I found it difficult to stop. The only other experience I can compare it to was reading the Harry Potter series. I was late to that party as well, so I was able to read the first four books in about a week before joining in the agonizing wait for the last three. Meyer’s vampire world is just as engrossing. Asking me to describe why Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn are so magical is like trying to capture lighting in a bottle—in other words, nearly impossible. In fact, somewhere during my third time through the series, I realized that while the books are exceptional, the writing…not so much. The words themselves are not particularly imaginative. The adjectives repeat endlessly, especially when it comes to Edward. How many times did I read the words bronze (his hair), marble (his chest), and perfection (his face)? Yet Meyer's words never stopped to thrill me. And to say that her books changed my life would be an understatement.

But being a 40-something Twihard is not always easy. I remember talking to another mother at my son’s school and finding out by chance that we were both fans of the series. The look we exchanged was equal parts guilt, chagrin, and bravado. I found myself thinking: at least she had a tweenage daughter that turned her on to the series. What was my excuse? Another time my husband described taking a business trip with a male co-worker who was completely engrossed in a book. When asked the title, the man was slightly embarrassed. “I needed something to read, so I just picked it up in the airport.” It was obvious the man had been doing his best to hide the cover with its iconic apple. And what is it about apples anyway? Adam and Eve. Snow White and the Evil Queen. Steve Jobs and his gadgets. And now Stephenie Meyer and her vamps. Apparently this fruit is simply irresistible to us humans.

When the first Twilight movie came out, I saw it with a friend. We went opening night. Big mistake! The theater was filled with teenagers who screamed every time Edward (aka Robert Pattinson) came onscreen. And their cacophonous wailing made it difficult to hear the “low-talker.” We learned our lesson and chose to wait—albeit impatiently—to see the second movie a week after its release. To hedge our bets, we also chose a matinee. Our tactics worked. The theater was relatively empty of hysterical teenager girls. Even better, we weren’t the oldest ones in the theater. Two 50-something black women sat one row down. Briefly I wondered why they chose this particular movie to see. I got my answer when they started hollering and whistling at a bare-chested Jacob (aka Taylor Lautner). Apparently, Team Edward and Team Jacob know no age boundaries. The third movie presented its own dilemma: my tweenage son expressed an interest in seeing it with us. Was it so wrong that I wanted to enjoy Edward without my son in the audience? I didn’t think so, which is why I watched it at home with him when it came out on DVD. My husband abstained. He’d grown tired of my Robert Pattinson—er, I mean Edward—obsession.

And yes, at this point, I will admit that I’d become a bit of a Twihard. I had it all: the Edward key ring, the Edward book marks, the Twilight calendar. It was only when I purchased and hung the Robert Pattinson calendar in my office that I realized I’d gone too far. This year, I somewhat reluctantly broke the habit. I walked away from the Twilight and Pattinson calendars and bought an Erté calendar instead. High art! How mature of me. Just don’t ask if I took down the Edward and Bella paraphernalia taped next to my office computer.

As you can see, my love of Meyer's books eventually overcame whatever embarrassment I felt. I’m officially out of the Twihard closet and extolling the series to the last hundred or so people who haven’t read it. My hardest convert was probably my brother. Jean-Paul was an Army Ranger. He was tough. He was taciturn. He wasn’t much for sharing his feelings. So when I tried to sell him on an epic love story, he was leery. In desperation, I played up the vampires and werewolves. “They’re mortal enemies,” I told him. “And there’s some awesome fights—kinda like Underworld.” (Okay, Twilight is nothing like the Underworld movies, but I knew that if I could just get him to start the book, he wouldn’t be able to put it down.) Jean-Paul was reading Twilight when he succumbed to testicular cancer on December 19, 2009.

My sister-in-law found the book in the backpack he always took to chemotherapy. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, my sister-in-law is not a reader. But she began to read the book in the weeks following her husband’s death. Oftentimes I wonder if it was just another way to hold Jean-Paul close. Whatever the reason, my sister-in-law devoured Twilight. She read it late at night when she couldn’t sleep. She read it on the long trips between her house in Georgia, my parent’s house in Pennsylvania, and Arlington Cemetery where we buried Jean-Paul. When she finished, I immediately ran out and bought her a copy of New Moon and Eclipse. She wanted to finish Bella and Edward’s story. I wanted to do something to help her through this terrible time. It was clear that Meyer’s books were about the only thing that gave her some peace—a way to escape, however briefly, from her grief. To this day, my love for the series is intrinsically tied to the most painful experience of my life—exquisite pleasure and overwhelming pain. Somehow I think Bella and Edward and their creator Stephenie Meyer would understand.   

With a Little Help from My Friends

It was a bad day. I’d just found out that my Border’s in Bowie, Md., was one of the stores that was closing in an effort to avoid bankruptcy. (If I’d known the whole chain would go under only months later, I would’ve felt 100 times worse.) I found myself wandering the familiar aisles, trying to soak up the sights and sounds while I still could. And of course I was shopping. My attention was drawn to a title: When Harry Met Molly. Smiling slightly, my eyes moved to the adjacent book: Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right. I was hooked. Similar to my weakness for a good cover, I’m a sucker for wordplay.

I didn’t recognize the author, Kieran Kramer. Picking up the books, I looked next at the covers. The smiles of the cover models were slightly mischievous, inviting the reader to smile back. A nice shout-out from one of my favorite authors, Julia Quinn. And the pièce de résistance was three small words—The Impossible Bachelors. To this experienced reader that meant only one thing: a series! I bought them both and placed them on my bookshelf. Unfortunately, as I had a backlog of books wanting to be read, they sat there for a few months. And then I ran across Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage and my favorite cover model Ewa da Cruz. It was time to say “yes” to Kramer’s Impossible Bachelors.

Kramer had me by page two of When Harry Met Molly, which featured an original piece entitled “A Love Rectangle of Tragic Proportions.” As recited by the heroine, 13-year-old Lady Molly Fairbanks, the unfortunate poem resulted in our hero, Lord Harry Traemore, being soundly trounced by his older brother, Roderick, for kissing the lovely Lady Penelope Fairbanks—Roderick’s fiancée and Molly’s older sister. I’d just met Molly, but I already knew I was going to like her.

Flash forward a few years and Harry’s in even worse trouble. By order of the Prince Regent, five gentlemen had been conscripted into the Impossible Bachelor’s wager. The unlucky group consists of Harry, his three best friends (Nicholas, the Duke of Drummond, Captain Stephen Arrow, and Charles, Viscount Lumley), and Harry’s mortal enemy, the odious Sir Richard Bell. The winner would enjoy “an entire year of freedom from the trials, tribulations, and, ahem, joys of marriage.” The losing bachelors would draw straws. The one with the shortest straw would have to propose marriage to a woman chosen by committee. Prinny’s rules are simple: the gentleman whose mistress wins the title of “Miss Delectable Companion” wins the wager.

Harry thinks he has it in the bag. And then his now sister-in-law Molly stumbles back into his life. Since her scandalous reading, Molly’s been languishing away at the Providence School for Wayward Girls. To escape, she’s come up with the harebrained idea to elope with her father’s assistant, Cedric Alliston.  At a seedy roadside tavern, the two run into Harry and his exquisite mistress. Harry and Fiona are on their way to Harry’s country estate to compete in the Impossible Bachelor’s wager. Sparks fly, tempers flare, and soon Cedric and Fiona take off and leave their quarrelsome counterparts in the dust—literally, the dust of their carriage wheels.

So what’s a ruined debutante and a desperate lord to do? How about concoct a scheme of epic proportions? Molly agrees to pose as Harry’s mistress, Delilah, for the weekend. If she wins “Most Delectable Companion,” Harry agrees to find her a husband. Lessons on kissing, flirting, and sashaying commence. And soon Molly finds herself competing against the other mistresses: actress Athena Markham, the elegant and mysterious Joan, the delectable and demure Bunny, and Hildur, a towering Icelandic beauty with a fierce temper and an uneven grasp of the English language. Like another Molly—the Unsinkable Molly Brown—our Molly refuses to admit defeat. Instead, she rallies the Mistresses into turning the tables on the gentlemen and having them compete for a change. Eventually, Molly wins over everyone: the voting gentlemen and their mistresses. No surprise, Molly also wins Harry’s heart. I can’t say enough how much I enjoyed this charming tale. So much, in fact, that I’ve even read its companion blog, www.musingsofthemistresses.blogspot.com.

The second book in the Impossible Bachelor series is the story of Lady Poppy Smith-Barnes and Nicholas, the Duke of Drummond. Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right starts strong right out of the gate. A sworn spinster, Poppy has invented an imaginary fiancée to stave off unwanted suitors.  So imagine her shock and dismay when the Duke of Drummond turns out to be a flesh and blood man. After hearing about his supposed engagement, Nicholas corrals the spirited Poppy at a ball and convinces her to play out the ruse. Why? It turns out the enigmatic Nicholas is a heroic English spy. And pretending to be engaged will free him from all the matchmaking mamas and their daughters. I found their story to be just as engaging as Kramer's first book.

Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage is the story of Captain Stephen Arrow and bookstore owner, Jilly Jones. Jilly hides a dark secret: she has fled and is in hiding from an abusive husband. Using the last of her fortune, Jilly has opened a small bookstore on Dreare Street. Pronounced “dreary,” the street is all the name implies, dark, dismal, and nearly always encompassed by a thick fog. The inhabitants of the street have fallen on hard times, but the indomitable Jilly attempts to rally her beaten down neighbors and rejuvenate the neighborhood. And then Stephen, who has inherited a property on Dreare Street, moves in next door. In Stephen’s own words: “Miss Jilly Jones. Already Stephen adored her. He always did the outliers.” Watching Jilly and Stephen fall in love was touching and enjoyable.

The last book in the Impossible Bachelor’s series, How to Give a Girl a Viscount, came out in November 2011. I'm only a few pages into the book, but I already know I will like it. It looks to be a take on the classic Cinderella, including an evil step-mother, two wretched step-sisters, and, in this case, a Viscount in need of a quest. Stay tuned.

I urge you to give Kieran Kramer and her Impossible Bachelors a read. Because in addition to penning a beguiling series about four friends, Kieran Kramer knows firsthand what it’s like to get “a little help from her friends.” In the Author Acknowledgements page of her second book, Kramer shares this amazing story.

I’d also like to thank Herbert Ames. He’s a NASCAR man who was wearing a white suit and a huge grin the day I met him on a plane…“Kieran Kramer, are you a book writer?” I dared myself to say, “Yes, Herbert, I am,” even though I hadn’t found a publisher yet. And I was a book writer! I had thousands of pages to show for it. Well, Herbert whipped out his cell phone and called his good friend Janet, who was a writer, too, and urged her to read my book. “Kieran Kramer’s gonna make it.  I just know it!” he shouted into the phone and then he passed it six rows up to me.

So who did that writer turn out to be? None other than best-selling author Janet Evanovich. Did her “friend” Herbert help Kieran get published? Who knows, but it’s a great story. And sharing great stories is what my blog is all about.

Hockey Players are Hot!

I hate football and basketball. Baseball bores the snot out of me. I don’t even get golf. You try and get something round into a hole. Sounds like quarters to me—minus the fun of having a rum and coke and flirting with the cute guy next to you. When the Olympics roll around, I want to stick a fork in my eye. Who cares if Michael Phelps eats Wheaties? (In case you all forgot, he’s a swimmer who won a lot of gold medals and likes to smoke weed.) And then there’s ice hockey. Although I can’t explain it, perhaps it has something to do with my Dad and the Philadelphia Flyers. Staying up late, going into downtown Philly, munching on enormous soft pretzels, we always had such a great time that I didn’t even mind sitting in the nose bleed section. So when I found Rachel Gibson’s series about the Seattle Chinooks, a fictitious professional ice hockey team, all those good memories came “flying” back.

Simply Irresistible (1998) starts off with Beauty Queen Georgeanne Howard leaving her much older fiancée and Seattle Chinook owner, Virgil Duffy, at the altar. On her way out of Dodge, the runaway bride begs a ride from hockey player, John Kowalsky. Although the two initially rub each other the wrong way, they soon enjoy a steamy one-night stand. Flash forward seven years. The dyslexic Georgeanne has turned her life around and is now the co-owner of a catering business. Imagine John’s shock when he comes face to face with Georgeanne and her 6-year-old daughter Lexie. Simply put: John is not a happy camper. But reading how the macho hockey player falls in love with his adorable daughter and then her mother was delightful.

See Jane Score (2003) is my favorite book in the series. Like most superheroes, Jane Alcott leads a double life. By day she’s author of the “Single Girl in the City” column for the Seattle Times; by night she’s author of “Life of Honey Pie” an X-rated column for Him magazine. But what Jane wants most is to become a respected newspaper reporter. So when the Seattle Times sports reporter has to take a leave of absence, Jane steps up to the net. What I liked best about Jane is that she is a real woman with real insecurities and real strengths. In other words, she’s the exact opposite of the “Puck Bunnies” that hang around the star hockey players. Maybe that’s why she gets under the skin of Luc Martineau—Chinook goalie and ring-leader for getting Jane kicked off the assignment and out of the locker room. While immediately smitten by the bad-boy hockey player, Jane thinks she’s not Luc’s type. This makes it all the sweeter when sexy Luc falls hard for “plain Jane.”

The Trouble with Valentine’s Day (2005) is a much darker read. PI Kate Hamilton is in a bad place. After finding a supposedly missing wife, she’s blindsided when her client comes unhinged and murders his family. Then Kate makes another bad decision, propositioning the sexy stranger sitting next to her at a bar. Kate’s brutally rebuffed, so you can imagine how uncomfortable it is when she runs into him again while visiting her Grandfather in Gospel, Idaho. Ex-Seattle Chinooks player Rob Sutter is battling his own demons. After cheating on his wife, Rob lost his family and career when he was shot by a deranged “Puck Bunny.” Not surprisingly Rob hasn’t been intimate with a woman since that night. But when Kate strolls into his small town, Rob’s luck is about to change.

Published in 2009, True Love and Other Disasters was my second favorite book in the series. After being dumped at the altar by Georgeanne, Seattle Chinooks owner Virgil Duffy had gone on to marry an ex-stripper and Playmate of the Year. Now Virgil has died and left his widow, Faith, the owner of his beloved ice hockey team. Virgil’s decision doesn’t sit well with the players or his family. But Faith is a trophy wife in the best sense of the word. While Virgil was in his 80’s and unable to perform in the bedroom, Faith loved him and ensured that his last years of life were full of laughter and companionship. So I was really pulling for Faith to get her happy-ever-after with the Chinooks new captain, Ty Savage, who’d been brought in to secure a Stanley Cup for Seattle. It doesn’t take the no-nonsense hockey player long to see that Faith is not the gold-digger Virgil’s family has made her out to be. Not only is Faith breathtakingly beautiful on the outside, she is beautiful on the inside—kind, caring, and loyal. Ty quickly falls in love with our heroine only to be blackmailed by Virgil’s son. The ending was pure romance—or what I like to call An Officer and a Gentleman on Ice. After winning the Stanley Cup, Ty quits the team, sweeps Faith up in his arms, and carries her away in front of a stadium of screaming hockey fans.

In Nothing but Trouble (2010) Gibson tells the story of former Seattle Chinooks captain, Mark Bressler, and the horrific car crash and subsequent coma that ended his career. Wracked with constant physical pain and bitter disappointment, Mark has chased away everyone the Seattle Chinooks have sent to help him in his recovery. Lucky for Mark, his new personal assistant, Chelsea Ross, does not scare easily. Just a smidge over 5 feet tall, with pink-tipped blonde hair, and double-D cleavage, Chelsea is a splash of color and life in Mark’s dreary existence. Soon the gruff Mark is opening up, volunteering with a kid’s ice-hockey team, reconnecting with his teammates, and eventually falling in love with his sassy assistant. 

The newest book in the series, Any Man of Mine (2011), is a variation of the one-night stand and unexpected pregnancy Gibson wrote about in Simply Irresistible.  (Apparently professional hockey players don’t do condoms.) The book starts off with Seattle Chinooks hockey player, Sam LeClaire, running into his Baby Mama at an event she’s planning. It’s not a pleasant meeting. Sam thinks Autumn Haven is a beeyatch with a capital “B.” Autumn seems to truly loathe the ice-hockey lothario. We soon find out she has good reason. Years ago, after the death of her mother from cancer, Autumn was taking a much-needed vacation in Las Vegas when she fell into bed with Sam. Autumn thought it was love. Sam—not so much. Sam was in Vegas to get trashed and forget about the anniversary of his sister’s murder. After a drunken, impromptu wedding, Sam decided that “What goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas” and quickly procured a divorce. Flash forward to present day. Sam is growing weary of sowing his wild oats and wants to improve his relationship with his young son—and maybe even his son’s mother. While sometimes painful, it was mostly heart-warming to watch Sam win back Autumn.

Why should you read this series? If you like complex, often flawed, alpha males and women who are strong enough to tame them, these books are for you. So grab a glass of wine and forget about missing teeth and broken noses—Gibson’s hockey players are hot! 

All in the Family

One of my co-workers recently said that she doesn’t read many series because she gets tired of the same characters. It surprised me, as I absolutely adore a good series. Then I got to thinking about her words. And I realized that while I do follow some series with the same characters—Stephanie, Morelli, and Ranger—most of the series I follow fall into different categories. Like families, friends, or even… hockey teams? These types of series offer the best of both worlds. The main characters are unique in each book, but then show up as secondary characters that you can follow in subsequent books. So for the next three weeks I thought I’d blog on some of my favorite series. First up: the Malory family.

When I think about families, these words always come to mind: “You can choose your friends, but not your family.” And sometime it’s this quote: “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” Either one probably works. At least that’s the case with Johanna Lindsey’s 1985 classic, Love Only Once, the first in her series about the rambunctious Malory’s. The head of the Malory family is the overbearing and controlling Jason, the Marquis of Haverston. Jason has disowned his brother James, who is now a notorious pirate, and has a very chilly relationship with his rakehell brother Anthony. The fourth brother, Edward, is often forced to play peacemaker between his hot-headed younger brothers and Jason. The book starts off with the abduction of Lady Regina Malory. It turns out to be a case of mistaken identity. Nicholas Eden, Viscount of Montieth, actually meant to “kidnap” and ravish his mistress. Try telling that to Reggie’s overprotective uncles. Nicholas did, and he was promptly trounced for his efforts. While the Malory brothers do not get along, they would kill to protect their beloved niece whom they’d raised since infancy. After quite a few misunderstandings, threats, and bludgeonings from “the Uncles,” Reggie and Nicholas marry and fall in love. Their story sets the stage for the renegade James to return to the bosom of his family.

The second book in the series, Tender Rebel, belongs to Anthony and the beautiful Scottish heiress he saves from the greedy clutches of her loathsome cousin. While it’s quite enjoyable to see the elegant Anthony lose his sangfroid over the bonny Roslynn, it was the third book in the series that cemented my interest. Gentle Rogue has it all—pirates, American buccaneers, and a saucy cabin boy who is soon seduced by the sensuous James. Oh wait, perhaps I should mention that the saucy cabin boy is actually an American girl in disguise. Georgina Anderson sets sail on James’ boat, trying to get back to America before her family finds her missing. Of course James catches onto her ruse from the get-go. And the scenes of the virile captain flirting with his cabin boy are priceless. Eventually the reformed pirate seduces and then falls in love with “George.” The caveat: James has sworn never to marry. To save face, James comes up with an asinine idea—he will tell Georgie’s five overprotective older brothers about their high seas adventures, and they will force them to marry. After all, it worked with Reggie and Nicholas Eden. But Georgie throws a monkey wrench into the plans when she refuses to marry James without an admission of love. Let the games begin.

Book four, The Magic of You, is my favorite of the series. I’ve read this one so many times, the spine gave out, and I had to replace it. In this book, the impish Amy Malory (Edward’s daughter) tries to win the heart of the thoroughly unpleasant, but totally hot, Warren Anderson (Georgie’s brother). Warren is surly, rude, and hated by all the Malory men. But does that deter Amy? Nope. If possible, she’s even more headstrong than her sister-in-law, Georgie, who reluctantly signs off on the plan for Amy to heal Warren’s broken heart. Despite repeated rebukes from Warren, Amy persists in “wooing” the object of her affections. From their first illicit kiss—instigated by the smitten Amy—to their forced confinement at the hands of a vengeful Chinese Emperor, the sparks are immediate. The only question remaining: why does it take the stubborn Warren so long to give into the inevitable?

Other Malory books include: Say You Love Me (Jason’s son Derek Malory’s story); The Present (Jason’s story with his long-time paramour Molly); A Loving Scoundrel (James’ illegitimate son Jeremy Malory’s story); Captive of My Desires (Georgie’s brother Drew Anderson’s story); No Choice but Seduction (Georgie’s brother Boyd Andersen’s story). The 10^th book in the series, That Perfect Someone, came out last year. 

So why should you embrace the Malory’s? From lavish Regency balls to bawdy taverns in the seedy sections of London to high-seas adventures with pirates and buccaneers, this romance series has it all. Enjoy!

Are Dragons the New Vampires?

Drake Vireo was the first dragon I fell in love with. Hair as black as sin, flashing emerald eyes, and the occasional wisp of smoke curling from his nostrils, Drake is a hunk of burning dragon love. I first met Drake in You Slay Me, when author Katie MacAlister unveiled her complex dragon mythology. Centuries ago, the First Dragon divided the creatures into four septs: the green dragons, the blue dragons, the red dragons, and the black dragons. Each sept is led by a wyvern. Drake Vireo is wyvern of the green dragons. Arrogant, greedy, and oh-so-sexy, Drake is my favorite kind of anti-hero.

The book’s heroine, Aisling Grey, is tasked with delivering a 600-year-old golden dragon statue to Paris and the mysterious Mme. Deauxville. Sounds simple, right? Wrong! First, Aisling stumbles across Aurora Deauxville’s body. Then she runs afoul of Drake the Dragon, who immediately absconds with the gold. And the hunt is on. Aisling wants the statue and answers about what it means to be a Guardian. Drake wants all the treasure he can steal and a mate. After surviving a Dragon’s Kiss and a goblet of Dragon’s Blood from Drake, Aisling is revealed to be—wait for it—a wyvern’s mate. But Aisling has no interest in being “claimed” by a dragon. She’s too busy defending herself from murder charges, conjuring up lower-class demons, and researching exactly what it means to be a Keeper of the Gates to Hell. The dialogue is snappy, the action is fast-paced, and the chemistry between the two main characters is sizzling. Even better, Aisling is in complete denial about being a wyvern’s mate, so it takes the sinfully seductive Drake three more books to win her over: Fire Me Up, Light My Fire, and Holy Smokes.

My second dragon crush first appears in Fire Me Up. Wyvern of the silver dragons, Gabriel Tahou is a total hottie with warm caramel skin, shoulder-length dark-brown dreadlocks, mouth-watering dimples, and mysterious silvery eyes. In an online interview, MacAlister shared her inspiration for the character—actor Jason Mamoa. For those familiar with the HBO series Game of Thrones, he plays the warrior Khal Drogo. Yummy! The silver dragons have an intriguing back story in that they broke away from the black dragons during the reign of the Dread Wyvern Baltic to form a new sept. Today, the black dragons are all but extinct. In retaliation for this betrayal, Baltic cursed them, saying: “No mate shall be born to a silver dragon until a black dragon is accepted as wyvern.” So, in addition to being a healer and an all-around nicer dragon then Drake, Gabriel get’s the sympathy vote. Obviously I wasn’t the only one crushing on Gabriel because MacAlister gave him his own series.

In the first book in his series, Playing with Fire, Gabriel gets around Baltic’s curse by mating—and then falling in love with—doppelgänger May Northcott. So what the heck is a doppelgänger? Let me explain. May is a paranormal “copy” of Cyrene Northcott, who is a naiad or water nymph. But things don’t go so smoothly for Gabriel. First, May’s already bound to a demon lord. Second, she’s an international thief who is wanted by Otherworld Law. And then the demon lord, Magoth, orders May to steal a rare treasure from the silver dragons. As with Aisling and Drake, dragon love does not come easy. On the bright side, we get to follow Gabriel and May’s story in two more books: Up in Smoke and Me and My Shadow.

Which brings me to Love in the Time of Dragons and, perhaps, the most complex of MacAlister’s anti-heroes, the Dread Wyvern Baltic. Hated and feared by all dragons, Baltic’s got a bad rep. He was wyvern of the black dragons through the Endless War or what MacAlister calls, tongue-in-cheek, the “wyr-wide war.” Killed centuries ago by his heir and Drake Vireo’s brother, Kostya Feteke, Baltic was resurrected only to learn that his mate Ysolde de Bouchier had also been slain. Heartbroken and bitter, Baltic is determined to avenge her death and reunite the black and silver dragons. Of course those goals put him against pretty much all of dragondom, including Drake, Gabriel, and Kostya. However, we soon find out that Baltic’s roar is worse than his bite when he meets Tully Sullivan, who turns out to be a resurrected Ysolde. In their second book, The Unbearable Lightness of Being a Dragon, the mystery of who killed Ysolde, why she was resurrected, and her relationship to the First Dragon start to be revealed. Baltic and Ysolde are clearly soul mates who have been through hell and back for each other. I recently purchased the third book in their series, Sparks Fly, and I'm hoping that MacAlister gives Baltic the same happily-ever-after she gave her first two dragons. We shall see.

After enjoying MacAlister’s dragons so much, I was pleased to see other authors take on these mythical creatures. I stumbled across Thea Harrison’s Dragon Bound and Storm’s Heart, the first two novels of the Elder Series, on amazon.com. Her third book Serpent’s Kiss came out in October. Romance author Sophie Jordan has also embraced the scales. In her new young adult series, Firelight and Vanished, the heroine Jacinda is a draki, a descendant of dragons who can shift into human form. And what would a YA series be without a pair of star-crossed lovers? In this case, Jacinda and the draki hunter she falls in love with, Will. While I've not yet read these books, they're on my shelf, and I plan to read them soon. Perhaps a dragon marathon is in order?

So back to my original question—are dragons the new vampires? Let’s go to the Magic 8 Ball, in this case amazon.com, for the answer. I type in “dragon romance” and click “search.” More than 1,000 hits come up between paperback, hardback, and Kindle versions, including my favorite title—Tipping the Scales: Stop Dragon My Heart Around. Guess that’s our answer.

The Trouble with Books

I was an early reader. From my standardized test results in 2^nd grade, I was already reading at a 12^th grade level. How do I know? Scarily enough, my Dad saved every report card from K through college graduation in a manila folder, including standardized tests. Many years later, he gave me this folder. I’ve yet to throw it away. Perhaps you’ll see me on A&E’s Hoarders one day?

My tale takes place in 6^th grade. (I’ll leave it to you to guess the year.) A Judy Blume book was circulating around the school. I’d read the classics, including Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret, but the buzz on this book was different. The rumor: this book was banned from our school library! When I finally got my sweaty hands on Wifey, I removed the cover so I could leave the book in my desk and read it at school. When you read quietly, the teachers pretty much left you alone. They had 30 kids to track. My eagle-eyed mother had only two chicks in her nest. And she didn’t miss much.

Soon parent-teacher conferences rolled around. Happy to not have school, I lolled around in bed trying to figure out just what the heck was going on with the “wifey.” It was about sex. I knew that much—but not a great deal more. What can I say? I’m Catholic, and my parents were pretty strict. And then…holy hell in a handbag! I’d left the book in my desk, and my mom had her conference today. Mom never missed the opportunity to go through my things. And there was no way she’d overlook a book with the cover torn off. That was blasphemy in my home! Luckily, I lived right across the street from my school, and I was able to sneak in and retrieve the book between conferences. My teacher suspected nothing—sometimes being a straight-A bookworm helps.

And then sometimes being a straight-A bookworm doesn’t help at all. At least that was the case when Mom caught me reading Johanna Lindsey’s Captive Bride. For those of you unfamiliar with this classic Lindsey, I quote verbatim from Amazon: "Once Christina had rejected Philip's fervent offer of marriage. But now she is to be his slave—desperate for the freedoms denied her...yet weakened by her heart's blazing desire to willingly explore her virile captor's most sensuous cravings." Apparently, Mom didn’t find it suitable reading material for her 11-year daughter.

Captive Bride is not my favorite Lindsey. After all, I was raised by a card-carrying member of the women’s rights movement. Mom’s motto: Anything a man can do, a woman can do better. She’s since relaxed this sentiment, but it’s too late for me. I continue to espouse it with great “fervor.” Even at 11, I wanted the heroine, Christina Wakefield, to engineer her own escape from the Sheik—not fall in love with the reprobate. And yet, Captive Bride gave birth to my love of romance novels. I continue to read them (and Johanna Lindsey) today. Her entire collection resides on my sagging bookshelves. Some I’ve read so many times, I’ve had to replace them. Despite the corny titles and the fact that Fabio appears on nearly every original cover, here are three Lindsey’s that are definitely worth a read.

Got Viking? Set in 873 Wessex, Hearts Aflame is the love story of feisty Viking heroine Kristen Haardrad and the powerful Saxon Lord Royce of Wyndhurst, who attempts—with varying degrees of success—to tame her. Kristen is not your traditional heroine. Not only is she 6 feet tall, she has zero interest in the muscle-bound Vikings of her village. Kristen longs for freedom and adventure, which is why she stows away on her brother’s longboat. Unfortunately the Viking raid goes awry. Kristen’s brother Selig is killed. (Or maybe not, as Selig gets his own book in Lindsey’s Surrender My Love.) When the Vikings are captured and enslaved by the Saxons, crafty Kristen disguises herself as a boy to escape the inevitable raping and pillaging. But Royce is no fool. He’s also not attracted to flaxen-haired males, so he quickly figures out Kristen’s secret. Let the games begin. Kristen and Royce are an equal match—stubborn, headstrong, and passionate. And while Royce thinks he has the upper hand when he beds Kristen, it’s actually Kristen who’s driving this story. The chemistry between Kristen and Royce is off the chart. So, if you like sweaty Viking sex in frigid Nordic temperatures, this is the book for you.

Defy Not the Heart features my favorite Lindsey hero—the gruff yet noble Ranulf Fitzhugh. Set in medieval England (circa 1192), the castle of Lady Reina de Champeney is under seige. In the hopes of forcing Lady Reina to wed, the dastardly Lord Rothwell has hired the brave and oh-so-buff Ranulf to kidnap the noblewoman. But Reina is no shrinking violet. She quickly comes up with a proposition for Ranulf—he should marry her himself. And from the way Lindsey describes the golden-haired knight, I’d have made the same offer. Reina is a little unusual for a Lindsey heroine in that she is not “breathtakingly beautiful.” Instead, Reina is a diminutive but resolute heroine who quickly wins over the hearts of Ranulf and readers. In one scene, the ubiquitous “other woman” tries to seduce the luscious Ranulf. She is summarily rebuffed when Ranulf makes it clear that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that he remains true to Reina. Now that’s romance.

Lindsey’s Once a Princess is yet another take on Beauty and the Beast. Set in 1835, Stefan Barany is scarred—physically and emotionally. In an act of bravery, a young Stefan was disfigured when he stepped in front of an assassin’s rapier. Today most women are repulsed by his ruined face. So when Stefan’s told he must travel to America, retrieve a long-lost Princess, and then marry her in order to receive the kingdom, Stefan is not a happy puppy—I mean, Prince. Then things get complicated. Stefan convinces his handsome cousin, Vasili, to pose as the Prince. The royal party finds that instead of living a life of exiled luxury, Princess Tatiana Janacek has lived a life of hardship and degradation. Even worse she’s clueless about her royal roots. Princess Tatiana, or Tanya as she is now known, believes herself the daughter of an abusive tavern-owner who has literally forced her to dance for her keep. Stefan is initially revolted by the slovenly Tanya. But it turns out that clever Tanya has hidden her breathtaking beauty to escape the attentions of drunken bar patrons. Beauty is unmasked first. Tanya further confounds her Beast by spurning the delectable Vasili and falling in lust with the scarred and surly Stefan. So what’s a Beast to do? My suggestion: just give in to his happy-ever-after. But this is a Lindsey—not a Disney. So Stefan must first get Tanya to forgive his deception, save her from assassins who’ve wiped out the entire Janacek family, and then finally accept that Beauty can love the Beast. 

The Comeback Kid

Breaking up with a series is traumatic. Sometimes you have no choice because the publisher pulled the plug. Sometimes your heart is broken by an author who decides to end a series. Sometimes you end the affair. After long-term relationships, I dumped two popular series—Patricia Cornwell’s Kay Scarpetta mysteries and John Sandford’s Lucas Davenport mysteries. What can I say? We were in a rut. And then there’s the break-ups where your heart is ripped out and then stomped on by Louboutin stilettos. So what happens you’re asked to reconcile?

I found Deadly Love in the mystery section at Border’s. It didn’t take long to figure out that the author, B.D. Joyce, was Brenda Joyce. I’d enjoyed her romance novels featuring the Bragg family. In fact, they’re buried two-rows deep in my bookshelves. The introduction to her new series read: “Welcome to the world of Francesca Cahill, crime solver extraordinaire. Francesca is no ordinary heroine. She refuses to bow to convention, wears her heart on her sleeve, and is determined to right the ills and injustices of the world.”

               

Color me intrigued.

Set in turn-of-the-century New York City (1902 to be exact), the mystery centers around a little boy who is spirited away from his bed during a high-society ball. Two people race to save him: bluestocking reformer Francesca Cahill and NYC Police Commissioner Rick Bragg. The characters engaged my interest right from the start. Francesca’s father, Andrew, is a millionaire who made his fortune in meat-packing after a humble beginning as a farmer. He adores Francesca and often turns a paternal blind-eye to her adventures. So it is her mother, Julia, an American blue-blood, who rules the family with an iron fist. To Julia’s despair, Francesca has little interest in obtaining a husband. Instead, our intrepid heroine would rather follow local politics and effect positive change for the less fortunate. Luckily Julia has another daughter: the beautiful Connie who is (seemingly?) perfect and (happily?) married to the dashing Neil. The youngest child, Evan, a charming ne’er do-well with a gambling problem, is the apple of his mother’s eye and an irritant to his hard-working father. At the end of Deadly Love, Francesca and Bragg solve the crime and become very “special friends.”  

In the second book in the series, Deadly Pleasures, Joyce introduces her most intriguing character yet—Calder Hart. Half-brother to Bragg, Hart is a bad boy in the best sense of the word—disturbingly sensual, sardonically witty, and uncaring about what society thinks of him. He is also Bragg’s arch-rival, so it’s no surprise when Hart turns his attention to Francesca to get a rise out of his do-good brother.

I tore through Deadly Affairs and Deadly Desire in 2002. By Deadly Caress and Deadly Promise, both published in 2003, I was firmly in Hart’s corner. Bragg was blonde and noble, but Hart was dark and hot. (I do love me some bad boy.) And then came the moment that arrogant womanizer Calder Hart could no longer deny his infatuation with the beautiful and brave Francesca, and he made her an offer of marriage. I’m not ashamed to admit that I squealed audibly when she said “Yes!”

I waited impatiently for Deadly Illusions, which didn’t come out until 2005. And I was chomping at the bit by the time Deadly Kisses dropped in 2006. It was the biggest nail-biter yet! Hart, who is suspected of killing his devious ex-mistress Daisy, ends his engagement to Francesca to protect her from scandal—breaking her heart and my heart in the process. Only Francesca believes in his innocence, and it is a frantic race to capture the murderer and Hart’s heart. (Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.) The series was on fire. Then these devastating words posted to Brenda Joyce’s website in 2009.

I would like to thank all of you who have emailed me inquiring about The Deadly Series. My publisher is simply not interested in publishing the final book at this time. I realize that a majority of my readers do not know that I don’t get to write whatever I choose, but what they [the publisher] request I write. When I announced after Deadly Kisses that I was taking a break from the series, I had every intention of finishing this series. I’m saddened that the characters have been left in limbo. If you wish to voice your concerns, I’m including the [publisher’s] email address.

Limbo? This was more like being left in an upper level of hell. When I said the series was on fire, I didn’t mean it literally! I had questions that demanded answers—Would Francesca and Hart ever marry? If so, would the sensuous Hart, who sometimes enjoyed intimacies with multiple women at the same time, remain true to the virginal Francesca? Would Bragg get over losing Francesca to Hart? Could Hart and Bragg rebuild their fractured relationship? And what would happen to Evan (Francesa’s scamp of a brother), Sarah (a bohemian artist and Evan’s ex-fiancée), Maggie (a working-mother of common birth who is crushing on Evan), Roarke (Bragg’s half-brother, a medical student who shows an uncommon interest in free-spirit Sarah), and the other secondary characters I’d grown to love?

Deep breath. And now for the comeback.

Last year, I received an email from Brenda Joyce. The subject line: "A very important message about The Deadly Series." Her publisher had had a change of heart. It planned to re-release the last two books in the series in December 2010 and January 2011 and—wait for it—the 9^th book in the series, Deadly Vows in February 2011.

I’m happy to say that Joyce delivered. For the first time in years, I had to turn to the back page to see how Deadly Vows ended. And now it’s your turn. Treat yourself to a great series and be sure to read them in order, you won’t want to miss one second of the adventure, mystery, and romance. 

Vanished!

Last week I blogged on what happens when an author stops writing a series that you love. Today I’m writing about what happens when an author stops writing a series that you love and then disappears. Yes, disappears! I’m not exaggerating. It’s a true story, and it happened to me.

Unlike most of my “keepers,” I’m a little fuzzy on how I first came across Dating Can be Murder by Jennifer Apodaca. If I’d hazard a guess, my Mom probably passed it on to me. I’m a voracious reader of romance—Regency, contemporary, urban fantasy, dystopian, young adult. Throw in a 7-foot flaxen-haired Viking and it’s the cherry on top of my sundae. My mother, on the other hand, is a voracious reader of mysteries—from Miss Marple to Miss Plum. In fact, I’d be hard-pressed to name a cozy mystery series she hasn’t read. But we do share books across our genres—at least the good ones.

Looking down at the really bad cover of Dating Can be Murder—limp dead guy in a suit, splayed across a giant heart floating in midair with what looks to be a bullet hole through it—I’m pretty sure it came from my Mom. Call me superficial, but it’s just not the kind of cover that would’ve caught my interest. But I’m being lazy. Let me just pick up the phone and ask. Be right back.

Did you miss me? And yes, after much prompting, Mom recalled giving the book to me. “I thought you would like that one.” Interesting. It appears that Mom is not as enamored of the series as I am. Is that going to stop me from extolling the undeniable charms of the Samantha Shaw mysteries? Nope.

The book starts out in grand fashion. I call it breaking up with style. Our spunky heroine, Samantha Shaw, is in a pickle. Her husband Trent has been killed in an unfortunate peanut-related incident. After finding a stash of women’s underwear in his vintage Mustang, her mourning period is brief. So what’s a scorned woman to do? How about taking the life insurance money to buy breast implants and a dating service? Sounds like a plan. But you know what they say about the best-laid plans.

Pause. Actually I don’t know, so I’m going to Google it.

I’m back. Again. According to Wikipedia, the quote is “the best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley [go oft awry].” It’s from a Robert Burns’ poem entitled “To a Mouse.” Who knew?

Anyway, Samantha’s plans gang aft agley. In addition to being a serial cheater, her dead husband was also a liar, a thief, and a drug dealer. And now Samantha and her two young sons are being threatened by some really scary bad guys. Sam’s life is made even more complicated by two new men in her life—Gabe Pulizzi, an ex-cop who now runs his own security firm and Detective Morgan Rossi, who is looking into all the strange happenings that surround our heroine.

So why should you be interested in the trials and tribulations of Samantha Shaw? Here are three good reasons. First, while the story is fast-paced, the mystery is enjoyably on the light side—no coked-up drug dealers, decapitated bodies, or sexual deviants. Wait! There may be a mention of a vibrator. Or maybe that’s in the fourth book in the series: Batteries Required. Second, the book is damn funny. For example, Sam’s cheating-ex was a record-setting condom salesman. Another example, Sam reviews romances and erotica, awarding stars for extra “sizzle.” You get the picture. Third, Apodaca’s characters are likeable and well-rounded. You feel for Sam—literally. The sexual tension between Sam and Gabe actually elicited a physical reaction from me. I’m not ashamed to say I got a tad bit warm during their first sex scene. Bottom line: Apodaca and Sam (and, let’s be honest, Gabe) had me hooked. I eagerly consumed the next four books in the series—Dying to Meet You, Ninja Soccer Mom, Batteries Required, and Thrilled to Death—and looked forward to future stories and many more hours of entertainment.

Or maybe not.

When my internal alarm clock told me to start looking for a new Samantha Shaw mystery, I was in for a shock. I googled Jennifer Apodaca and someone named Jennifer Lyon popped up. In fact, Jennifer Apodaca had virtually disappeared. All that remained of my beloved author was a small tab on Jennifer Lyon’s website. Like Samantha Shaw, I had a mystery to solve. Unlike Samantha Shaw, it didn’t take me 300 pages do so.

So what exactly happened? Jennifer Apodaca had pulled a Phoenix—a mystery writer “died” and an urban fantasy author rose from the ashes. In the author’s own words:  “She [Jennifer Lyons aka Jennifer Apodaca] unleashed her inner witch and created the Wing Slayer Hunter series about tortured alpha males and the very special witches who loved them.” Wow. I didn’t see that one coming.

So where does that leave me today? Jealously guarding my dog-eared copies of the five Samantha Shaw mysteries. They are not on loan—to anyone. And making room on my shelf for a new author. But I’ll be honest here. Jennifer Lyon is not Jennifer Apodaca. The oven still “sizzles,” but one important ingredient is missing from the recipe—humor. My advice: savor your books, because you never know when the menu is going to change.