Review x 2: Edenbrooke and The Mistletoe Promise

And now for two completely fluffy reads. Don't judge me too harshly.

1. Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson

I read Edenbrooke soon after it was released in 2012. I loved it. At the time I remember thinking, If I'm reading with no other goals except relaxation and pleasure, then this is what I want to read.

Because I enjoyed it so much the first time, I've been meaning to read it again ever since. But I always found a reason why I couldn't or shouldn't read it: my to-read list is much too long to reread; it would just be for fun, so it can wait; it's not going to elevate or improve my life in any way; I have all these other (usually self-imposed) book deadlines, so they get first priority.

But even with all those completely valid reasons, I still wanted to read it, and that should count for something, right? After all, my first and foremost reason for reading is because I enjoy it, so it makes sense that I would want to read a book I already knew was enjoyable.

So because I knew it wouldn't happen any other way, I turned it into a reading goal for 2016: Reread Edenbrooke. Simple and straightforward, and because I take my goals very seriously, I knew it would happen.

The months passed, and I kept putting it off because there was always something more pressing to read. And suddenly, it was December, and, amid the pressure to finish all of my goals, I was so irritated that I had to somehow  squeeze in reading this book. I had to finish up some other goals, as well as read books for a couple of book clubs, and I absolutely did not want to read this book. It was going to be a disappointment. I knew I'd be more critical of it this time. It was going to be a big waste of reading time I did not have.

It's a testament to the Upholder in me that in spite of all of my kicking and screaming and protesting, I couldn't not read this book. It didn't matter that it was a personal goal--a personal, fun goal, no less. I had written it down. I couldn't ignore or disregard it. I had every part of my personality compelling, forcing, me to read it.

And so, I did. And oh my goodness, can you love a book more the second time? No one was more shocked than I was when I not only still liked it but absolutely adored it. I even saved the last thirty or so pages so that I could savor them, uninterrupted, during Clark's nap.

Set in Regency England, the story is ridiculously romantic. Marianne Daventry has always lived in the shadow of her twin sister, Cecily. When their mother dies in a tragic accident, their father sends Cecily to London with friends and Marianne to Bath to live with her grandmother. Marianne longs for the open air and countryside, and so, a year later, when Cecily invites her to their friends' grand estate, Edenbrooke, for the summer, Marianne doesn't have to think twice. On her way there, she meets a rude and obnoxious gentleman, Philip, at an inn (right after being held up by a highwayman), and she hopes to never see him again. But of course, she does. And, of course, she falls in love with him. It wouldn't be right if she didn't.

I'm well aware of the flaws in this book, but I have no desire to list them out because they honestly don't matter to me. I love the bantering and teasing dialogue, the characters, the setting, and seeing honor and virtue upheld. I love everything about this lovely story (except maybe the overuse of the word "odious").

And remember how I told myself it wasn't going to elevate or improve my life in any way? Well, I was wrong about that, too. In the last couple of months, I'd lost a lot of the joy of reading. I was reading because I had to, not because I wanted to. I outlined my reading schedule and followed it and didn't allow for last minute whims. But all of that disappeared the minute I cracked open this book. I fell into it headfirst, and just like that, my love of reading was rekindled. And if that's not elevating and improving my life, I don't know what is.

And now, I'm looking back at my reading goals and giving myself a giant pat on the back. I knew what I would need, and I knew the only way I'd give it to myself is if it was locked inside a goal. My 2016 reading is ending on a high note.

2. The Mistletoe Promise by Richard Paul Evans
This next review is to prove that not all fluffy books are created equal.

Most Decembers find me reading books I normally wouldn't even consider during the rest of the year. There's something about hot chocolate and twinkly lights that always makes me want to curl up with a sappy Christmas story. After finishing Edenbrooke earlier in the month, I was done with almost all of my content-specific goals and was just trying to make that final push to complete my numbers goal (I still don't know if I'm going to make it). So a short, easy read that I could just breeze through sounded like just the thing.

The premise was interesting enough: One day Elise Dutton is approached by Nicholas Derr in the food court of the office building where they both work. He's not a complete stranger--they bumped into each other in the elevator one day and they see each other often at lunchtime--but she's never really spoken to him before. He sits down and offers a proposal for the coming holiday season: He's tired of going to social events by himself, and he thinks she might be too, so why don't they just pretend to be in a relationship for the next six weeks so they won't be so lonely? All of the conditions will be written up in a contract (the Mistletoe Promise), so all expectations will be clear and there won't be any surprises.

The thing is, you don't just agree to be in a pretend relationship with someone you couldn't actually see yourself being in a real relationship with, and pretty soon Elise and Nick begin to develop real feelings for each other, which are only complicated by the dark and tragic secrets of their pasts.

So yes, the plot itself was exactly what I expected and wanted from a Hallmark-type holiday book. And I suppose the writing was exactly what I was expecting as well, but that doesn't mean it didn't irritate me. Everything just felt so generic: the conversations, the descriptions, the settings. It felt like anyone could have written it, including me . . . and that's not a compliment.

Maybe it's because the book takes place in Salt Lake, and so many of the places mentioned (Hale Center Theater, Abravanel Hall, City Creek, Olympus Cove, Sugar House park) are places I've actually been, but if I hadn't been, his descriptions would have done absolutely nothing to make me want to visit (and I've read many books where I'm desperate to see the real thing after reading and where the descriptions are so vivid, I almost feel like I've actually been there). The whole thing just felt like it was written in a hurry (which it probably was--deadlines are real).

I also really couldn't stand all of the expensive and extravagant presents Nick kept giving to Elise. I actually liked Nick's character quite a bit, except that he seemed to love spending ridiculous amounts of money. I get that he was trying to help Elise recognize her value, but to me it seemed really superficial, almost like the only way to show a person's value is with money. And then Elise decides to give Nick a really expensive gift too and basically has to drain her savings account to pay for it, and for what? For something Nick could have purchased with a snap of his fingers. I guess it shows a certain level of sacrifice from Elise, but still, I think a sentimental gift would have gone further show her feelings. The book even ended with Nick giving her a Lladró statue of Cinderella, which was supposed to be so sweet and symbolic but just felt like one more way to spend a lot of money. It just seemed like money was a much bigger part of the story than it needed to be, and every time Nick gave her another gift and talked about how much it cost and why it was so special, I rolled my eyes a little bit more.

 So yes, it left much to be desired, but did I stay up until midnight to finish it? Um, not telling . . .

And now, please share your favorite sappy Regency or Christmas books because there's no shame in admitting you read them. (Please tell me you read them, too, on occasion. )

A Heart Revealed by Josi S. Kilpack

I took voice lessons for a brief few months when I was 14 or 15. They didn’t last very long, and now one of the only things I remember from them was that my voice teacher was overwhelmingly positive . . . to a fault. She was constantly kind and complimentary, praising me up one side and down another, so you would have thought my self-esteem would have soared under her tutelage. But it didn’t. After just a few weeks, I felt like I couldn’t trust her. I didn’t know which compliments were real and which ones were there because she was afraid to hurt my feelings. I became so grateful for my piano teacher who was formidably honest about everything (including the color of my fingernails). But when she gave me a compliment, I glowed with pleasure because I knew it was the real deal.

I have thought about that contrasting experience many times over the last three years as I’ve written about and reviewed books on this blog. When I’m hesitant to share something I didn’t like, I remember my experience with my two music teachers. I realize that if I only write glowing reviews, they will soon become meaningless because no one will know if I’m giving my true opinion or just gently smoothing over the surface, being careful not to disturb the waters underneath.

You’ve probably guessed from that little introduction that the review I’m about to write is one that would make my piano teacher proud because even though it might not be overwhelmingly positive, it will be honest.

Set in England during the Regency Era, Amber Sterlington has it all: beauty, wealth, and her choice of eligible bachelors. When she enters a room, other people notice . . . including Thomas Richards, who is in London for the Season before returning to his country estate in Yorkshire. Thomas is but the third son of a country lord and knows he doesn’t have a chance of winning Amber’s attention. But still, her obvious arrogance and condescension towards him make him burn with humiliation.

This arrogance affects Amber’s other relationships as well, including those with her mother, sister, and maid. She doesn’t recognize the damage she has done until she unexpectedly begins to lose her hair. As her condition worsens, she is shunned from society, and she realizes she doesn’t have a single friend or family member to turn to for love, comfort and support. After many months, and as her prospects permanently crumble, Amber’s heart softens, and she emerges a much kinder and wiser person.

Because of its focus on a rare health disorder, this is far from your typical Regency romance. I certainly appreciated the author’s boldness in branching out and tackling a difficult subject. However, there were times, many times actually, when I felt like the novel was using Amber’s condition as a crutch. Forming the plot around a unique disease does not instantly make a deep and touching story, and in the end, the originality was not enough to carry the rest of the book through some of its other flaws.

·       For example, the pacing was very slow. This isn't unusual for a Regency romance, but the conversations and details that happened in the meantime were so uninteresting and repetitive that I had a really difficult time making it through to anything that was actually noteworthy. There was very little interaction between Amber and Thomas (and what does happen mostly occurs with a wall between them). When they finally see each other and speak face to face at the end, it made me a little uncomfortable, rather than happy. I guess part of the problem was that I just never liked Amber. At first, she was too stuck up and by the end, she was too humble. It wasn't that I felt like her transition was unbelievable, just that I didn't like either result.

·         It also felt really preachy to me. That is an adjective I strive to avoid in my reviews, but in this case, I can't help myself. From Amber’s condition to messages about inner beauty to even comments about modesty (when Amber walks into the room in a revealing gown, Thomas chastises himself because he knows “he [is] the one in keeping of his own thoughts and ought not to blame her manner of dress for his own weakness”), I just felt like little ideas were being compartmentalized and forced onto me.

The book did generate some strong emotions from me, which I think says something positive for it. I liked Amber’s maid, Suzanne, and appreciated this thought from her, “I . . . believe that there are people in every society who would prefer the heart you have grown, to the beauty you left behind to find it.” (But it would have been more powerful if I hadn’t read almost the same sentiment several more times.)   

On the flip side, I felt a strong dislike for Amber’s family, who, instead of rallying around her, banished her to Yorkshire so they wouldn’t be tainted by her appearance. Her father’s words especially made me so angry: “That you have to endure such a thing is unfortunate indeed, but I should think you would not want your family to suffer along with you. I should think that as a woman of feeling and sound mind you should want to protect us from such derision, not ask that we share it with you.” 

As I've written this review, I've tried to think about how I would have altered it if I happened to personally know the author. Would I have mentioned the things I didn't like? Would I have focused on the things I did like? For sure, such a relationship would have made this review even more difficult to write, and I don't know what I would have done. However, in the end, I think my reaction to it was far simpler than I've made this review out to be. It wasn't so much like vs. dislike but just plain, old boredom. I guess it just wasn't for me.

I received an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

Blackmoore by Julianne Donaldson (and a Giveaway)

If you've been reading this blog for awhile, you'll not only remember that Edenbrooke was one of my five favorite books from last year but also that I was eagerly anticipating the publication of Blackmoore this year. In fact, I even included it on my list of reading goals for 2013 (as if I was going to forget to read it otherwise).

I was so anxious to read it that I pushed past my fear of rejection and requested a review copy from the publisher. I read it within days of receiving it, and when I was done with it, the only thing I really wished was that I was still reading it.

Kate Worthington's home life is almost unbearable: her mother is controlling and manipulative; her sisters are dramatic and ridiculous; and every summer, her best friends, Sylvia and Henry, abandon her to spend the summer at the mysteriously Gothic Blackmoore. Kate has always longed to go with them, but Henry's mother is dead set against it. She has plans for Henry, and they don't involve Kate Worthington in any way.

But Henry made a childhood promise to Kate that one day she would see Blackmoore. He uses both his authority (as future heir of the estate) and a little deceit (which Kate doesn't know about) to get Kate there. But once she's there, Kate finds her problems are far from over: she isn't welcomed by Henry's family; she has to watch Henry court the impeccable Miss St. Claire; and then there's the difficult business of trying to procure three proposals of marriage (so that she can be released from her mother's hold and go to India), all while trying not to fall madly in love with the one man she's always loved.

If you want to know the kind of book I want to read for pure pleasure, Blackmoore is a perfect example: from the setting and time period right down to the all-too-perfect, definitely-created-by-a-woman, must-be-a-figment-of-my-imagination leading man. It was an effortless read, and I mean that as the sincerest of compliments. I have nothing against books that make me think or that involve a certain amount of brain power to understand, but sometimes I'd rather not dissect sentences or break out the dictionary.

In that vein, although it is set in the Regency time period, it doesn't necessarily feel like you're reading a Jane Austen novel. The dialogue is proper and dignified, but it is also very straightforward and accessible, which is one of the reasons why it was such an effortless read. I have to say that I loved the conversations between Henry and Kate; so much of what they said was emotionally charged while still being intentionally vague. My very favorite line (besides the ones at the end which I won't go quoting for fear of spoiling them for you) was this (from Henry): "Don't go rubbing your nose. Please. I have such a weakness for that." It shows that Henry knows Kate's little mannerisms and what they mean and that he is affected by them. It makes my pulse quicken just a little every time I read it. (Too dramatic? Sorry. It's the mood I'm in.)

(Let me insert here that it is extremely difficult to write a review when every time I look up something in the book, I get sucked back into the story for another ten minutes. I'm just sayin' . . .)

One of the things I loved the most about this book was the setting. So many regency romances are set in the picturesque English countryside. As much as I love luscious green lawns and well-manicured gardens, I have to say that seeing Kate and Henry's clandestine and tempestuous romance play out against the windy and wild moors was absolutely perfect.

I'll admit, with all the talk about propriety and reputation, I wondered at Kate and Henry's audacity to sneak off to an abandoned abbey in the middle of the night or to accidentally meet at the ocean's edge. Part of me rather disbelieved that Henry would risk compromising Kate just to steal a kiss (but thankfully only a kiss . . . this was a "proper romance"). But somehow, with the biting wind whipping around them and the stark and austere landscape stretching out on all sides, their actions didn't seem all that unbelievable after all.This was a case where the setting complemented the characters so perfectly, I'm not sure that one could have gotten on without the other.

The one character I really didn't like was Sylvia. I disliked her even more than Kate's mother or Mrs. Delafield. Because, you see, I knew I was supposed to dislike them. There was nothing redeemable or kind in their personalities. But Sylvia? I didn't know if I should love her or hate her. She was Kate's best friend after all, so I kind of thought I was supposed to like her or at least hope they would be able to resolve their differences and renew their friendship. But even when there were flashbacks to the past, I thought she was a tiresome and selfish friend. And then, in the present, I thought her actions were terribly unfeeling. I just didn't like her.

I usually only mention the cover if I have a strong opinion about it. And this time, I happen to have a strong opinion. I don't love it. And I think it's because I wish it was reversed, and Blackmoore was more prominent, and Kate was in the background, preferably with her skirts and hair being blown around her. This cover just doesn't fit the tone of the book for me.

But the story inside the cover? So, so good. It was a treat to read, and I wish I could have spent a few more days engrossed in it. It will be a book that I come back to again and again, anytime I just need to fall into a good story.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I am so happy to be one of the participating blogs in the Blackmoore blog tour. If I've piqued your interest, you might want to click over and read a few more reviews. Or you just might want to get your own copy of the book and read the entire thing immediately. Yes, I think that's what I would do.

In that case, you might be interested in knowing that the launch party for Blackmoore is being held at my very favorite bookstore, The King's English, on Tuesday, September 10th, at 7:00 pm. Additionally, check out Julianne Donaldson's website or facebook page for more information on upcoming signings. Also, Amazon is doing a special promotion during the month of September: you can purchase Blackmoore for $7.99 and Edenbrooke for only $1.99 (not affiliate links).

Or, you could try to win a copy because guess what? The publisher sent me an extra advance reader's edition, so I have one to give away! All you have to do to enter is leave a comment on this post! And please, make sure you include your email address so I will be able to contact you if you win. You have until Saturday, September 14th at approximately midnight. The winner will be selected at random and announced on Monday, September 16th. U.S. residents only, please.

Update: By random selection, "the family" won. Congratulations! And thanks so much everyone for your comments!

Full disclosure: I received an advance copy in exchange for an honest review. No other compensation was provided. All thoughts and opinions are clearly and decidedly my own.

The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer

This was my first taste of Georgette Heyer, and it delighted me in every way. Luckily, she wrote over fifty books during her lifetime, so I think I'm set for a good long while.

When the novel begins, things are a little bit strained in the Rivenhall household: Lord Ombersley has squandered all his money (and he has seven children, so, you know, he should probably feel his duty a little bit more than he does); his eldest son, Charles, is grimly trying to reconcile all of his father's accounts and fill the role of "responsible adult." Cecilia Rivenhall is in love with a ridiculous poet even though a very respectable marriage has been arranged for her with Lord Charlbury. Charles himself is also engaged, and his fiancée, Miss Eugenia Wraxton, is insufferably proper and arrogant. In the midst of all this, Lady Ombersley's brother, Sir Horace Stanton-Lacy, arrives unexpectedly and asks if his daughter, Sophy, can stay with the family while he is away in Brazil. Lady Ombersley is expecting a shy young woman in need of motherly guidance and love. What she gets instead is "the grand Sophy," a strong-willed, independent female who quickly takes their situation in hand and does her best to remedy it.

Sophy caught me by surprise, almost as much as she does the Rivenhalls in the novel. I think I was expecting her to be more like Jane Austen's Emma. And while she does have some similarities (an unquenchable desire to fix everyone's problems being one of them), she is much more spunky, high-spirited, and at times even a little bit vulgar. (She drives wild and dangerous horses, she settles matters with unscrupulous debtors, and she pretends to compromise herself with a man in order to bring lovers together. She even carries around a pearl-handled pistol and uses it quite freely.) There was a part of me that loved Sophy fiercely and another part of me that was pretty certain she would drive me crazy in real life. I could totally relate to Charles' feelings of exasperation but then also couldn't help but laugh at some of her ridiculous and well-meaning antics. As she said so well when she was explaining one of her plans to Lord Charlbury: "Pray don't be afraid of me! I never do people any harm--indeed I don't!"

There were two scenes that I especially loved: first, when Charles discovers that instead of a small, intimate party of no more than 20 guests, Sophy has organized a grand-scale event involving upwards of 400 people; and second, when Sophy is being threatened by the disgusting Mr. Goldhanger but instead of backing down, Sophy pulls out her pistol and threatens him. Even though this novel has all the elements of a regency romance, it has quite a bit of "action" too, which kept me very entertained. The ending was another favorite: the whole scene was absolutely comical, from the little ducklings trying to escape their box to the Marquesa butchering chickens in the kitchen to Lord Bromford's pathetic cold. It just made me laugh.

I thought Miss Wraxton and Sophy posed a striking contrast to each other. Both of them are somewhat meddlesome, always sticking their noses in other people's affairs. But they go about it in such vastly different ways. Miss Wraxton pretends she isn't prying but when confronted with the evidence, she claims she is only doing it for the good of others and using her own spotless reputation and good standing to pull others (namely Sophy) away from their unseemly associations. Sophy, on the other hand, approaches each new problem with candor and good humor and gladly sacrifices herself to help others. I just found it so interesting that although you could use some of the same adjectives to describe these women, they were as different as night and day.

Hubert was another character I found highly intriguing. He was the third child in the Rivenhall family, younger than Charles but older than Cecilia (and Sophy). For at least the first half of the book, I was picturing him as being several years younger than Sophy, maybe 16 or 17, but then it becomes obvious that he is actually older than she is, putting him somewhere in his early 20's. Besides the whole episode where he confesses that he is in a great amount of debt, I found much of his behavior incredibly immature, which is why I thought he was so much younger than he really was. Again, it was just another interesting contrast, 1) because Charles is so well-grounded and you would think his younger brother would have similar traits and 2) because even though Sophy is full of so much levity, you feel like she is clear-minded and wise whereas Hubert is just interested in having a good time. The reality though is that siblings do not all come in the same package, and it is very likely that the oldest child would feel the full weight of duty while a younger child might be perfectly happy to do whatever he pleases.

As far as the various romances, I loved the fact that Cecilia fell head over heels for a poet only to realize that he was nothing like what she really wanted and that what she really wanted was what she easily could have had from the very beginning. I thought this passage summed it up beautifully: "Lord Charlbury might be constitutionally incapable of addressing her as Nymph, or of comparing bluebells unfavourably with her eyes, but Lord Charlbury would infallibly provide a cloak for her if the weather were inclement, lift her over obstacles she could well climb without assistance, and in every way convince her that in his eyes she was a precious being whom it was impossible to guard too carefully." I think so often it is the penniless, star-struck lovers that are encouraged and applauded because for some reason, we seem to believe you can only be in love if you're starving. It was a nice change to be cheering for the sensible man instead of the one whispering sweet nothings.

I will just add one word of caution: contrary to what you may suppose, this book actually had quite a bit of offensive language--not in the way of swearing (although there are a few mild words), but many instances of taking the name of God in vain (in a proper, British sort of way). This probably wouldn't bother some readers at all, but I didn't appreciate it.

If you are a fan of Jane Austen, I don't think you could help but love this book. It is witty and cheeky. It has action and romance. And they wear pretty dresses and ride in carriages. Need I say more?

Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson

Rapturous sigh. This book gets five stars because if I'm going to read for pure enjoyment, this is exactly what I want: the time period, the characters, the pacing of the romance, the romance itself...I'm telling you, it seemed like it was tailor-written for me! I faced this paradox through the whole book: do I keep reading because I'm dying to know what happens next? Or do I take a break so it's not over too soon and I have something to look forward to? Every time I put in my bookmark, I felt like I literally had to tear myself away from it. Am I gushing too much? Yes, probably, but I can't seem to help myself.

When it was over, I wanted to go back and re-read some of my favorite parts, and then I realized "my favorite parts" would be the entire book over again. I'm sure I will do that soon enough.

While Mr. Knightley and Gilbert Blythe are in no danger of being knocked from their pedestals (they're pretty solidly anchored there), I will happily add another one for Philip. He was so different from those two, but I loved him just as much.

Julie Donaldson can count me as a loyal fan; I will read anything she writes.

I wrote this review before creating this blog.

Persuasion by Jane Austen

I won't pretend like this book was easy for me to get through. Enjoyable? Yes. Worthwhile? Yes. Strong characters? Yes. But a big chunk of my reading time comes from snatching a spare minute here and a spare minute there, and Jane Austen's works are not the type that lend themselves well to chopped up reading. The old language and general style takes some time for me to get into, and by the time I'm back in my groove, the spare minute is usually over.

That said, Anne Elliot is truly one of my favorite heroines. She is opinionated, strong-willed, but in a much more subtle, kinder, more refined way than, say, Elizabeth Bennett (whom I also love, by the way).

This review was written before the birth of this blog.