Grade: D

Maybe I’ve overdosed on Kleypas… after all, I read five of her books in a row. That’s one a day. I always seem to do this with new writers (new for me, anyway). If I read a book by a writer that I’ve never read before and happen to like it, I go out and buy every single book written by that author. Sometimes, I get sick of that author right away, but sometimes I get more enamored with the author’s work and would gladly trade my good kidney and ovaries for an ARC. When I came across this book at my local B&N, I fawned over the delicious cover, read the back blurb, and instantly dropped it in my basket. After all, I couldn’t resist a good Heathcliff story—two children, one rich, the other poor, who fall in love, but the poor one is driven away by the wealthy one’s family, and the poor one comes back wealthy and out for revenge—and combined with Kleypas’ sparkling writing, thought I had a winner in my hands. I was wrong. I was so bored by this story that I actually skimmed through about seventy five percent of it. From what I’ve read of Kleypas’ stuff, I guess I expected more of it… not this lackluster crap. To add insult to the injury, the reason the two leads are kept apart is so frickin’ stupid that I was actually offended by it. I was mildly more interested in the secondary storyline involving the heroine’s sister and the hero’s best friend, but that was also resolved in such a boring-ass fashion that all and all, I did not have fun reading this book.

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Is it me or do these two models look younger than usual? I swear to God, I went to school with these people… only they never aged. When I was in high school, there was a girl named Tiffany, who was the prettiest, most charming, most popular… most everything, and she was a cheerleader. She was sickeningly nice, too. Anyway, her dad was some big-shot corporate attorney and was really strict on her, so as an act of rebellion, she started dating this Mexican guy named Jose who was like… this rebel-with-absolutely-no-cause, with slicked back hair and wore the most ridiculous gold chain around his neck. He always acted like he was poor and lived a hard life, but this was in Scripps Ranch, which is a pretty affluent suburb in San Diego, and everyone knew that Jose’s parents were dirty stinkin’ rich.

I swear to God, this totally looks like a prom picture or something. Look, there’s a fake background and everything. Obviously, the night is starting to wind down because Jose has already taken off his tuxedo jacket and bowtie. And Tiffany? Drunk as a skank on wine coolers and throwing herself all over Jose.

Oh, and Tiffany was no virgin.

Thanks to my dear friend Amber for the cover!

Grade: B+

I’ve read enough romance novels by now that I can call the plot by perusing the back blurb. This one is simple and familiar: a desperate widow who doesn’t want to be a burden to her relatives accepts an offer of employment from a man of questionable reputation and again her better judgment, falls in love with him. In these stories, the dead husband is always either a total saint or an abusive prick—no middle ground—and there is always a child, preferably a girl, for the sympathy factor. The heroine is almost always a martyr practically begging for canonization and the hero is almost always a well-known rakehell who is not received in polite circles, but is secretly a devoted son or brother. In this particular offering of Kleypas, the hero is desperate to have the heroine, but respects her so much that he thinks it would be an insult to her to court her (so he offers her employment, instead). The heroine, on the other hand, is attracted to our hero, but loved her dead husband so much that she believes it is traitorous to his memory to even think about another man but him. In spite of this, our two lead characters become good friends and eventually become lovers, but the unfulfilled sexual tension between them in the meantime? Delish!Holly Taylor, our heroine, is bucking for sainthood. Her husband had died three years ago, but she has yet to shed her widow’s weeds and absolutely refuses to even think of marrying. She lives with her dead husband’s relatives with her female offspring and depends on their good graces for food, clothing, and other expenses (George didn’t leave her much money). Saint Holly feels bad for mooching off of them, but is so desperate to hang out with people who loved her dead husband as much as she did that she is willing to swallow her pride. Unbeknownst to everyone who hangs out with her, Saint Holly has become very bored with her situation in life and even though she would be willing to grieve for her dead husband till her own death, she would welcome any chance for excitement to come her way. When the excitement comes in the form of a tall, dark stranger (aren’t they always?) who mistakes her for another woman in the dark and kisses the hell out of her, Saint Holly finds herself kissing him back and feeling a tingle in the girl parts that she thought had died along with George. Oh, don’t worry, Saint Holly will mentally and emotionally flog herself for this little indiscretion for the next fifteen or so pages.
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I suspect from looking at the title that the “five” involves somebody’s children. Maybe she’s got two and he’s got one, or he’s got two and she’s got one. Or somebody’s dead sister left her sibling three kids to raise. At any rate, somebody’s going to need a babysitter and most likely, the dead sister left her kids to her brother, and now he needs his trusted, loyal secretary to help him out (she’s secretly in love with him).

Or I could be wrong. Maybe this book is about an adventurous couple in LA who seek out other sexual partners to join them in bed or something.

At any rate, the woman’s legs look kind of masculine and I wouldn’t be surprised if our hero is feeling a little poke on his back. It doesn’t even look like a playful piggyback ride at all. Rather, it looks like Fabio as a viking is attacking one of his Norman enemies or something.

Thanks to Amber for the cover!

Honestly, is there anything else I can add to this?