Going to the chapel and we’re going to get married.

Publisher: Harlequin
Pages: 167
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-4603-0146-3
First Published: 2012
Date Reviewed: 18th December 2012
Rating: 3.5/5

When Connor finds Megan throwing up in his Vegas hotel bathroom, he realises things aren’t quite as good as he’d hoped, but he didn’t think that Megan would have forgotten the night before. Having approached him in order to silence her friends’ goading, Megan agreed to spend the evening with him, and, when it was obvious that despite first impressions the two strangers were incredibly compatible, she’d agreed to marry him, that night. It made sense – both were disillusioned with the idea of love, but both wanted children (in fact Megan was planning to opt for artificial insemination) and Connor especially wanted a partner who would fit his busy life as the founder of a big business. But now Megan is asking for a divorce that Connor doesn’t want to agree to so instead he proposes a trial marriage. Because they’re perfect for each other, right?

Waking Up Married is a predictable and familiar story told in an often different and very fun way. Based on ideas other books have used, the novel makes for an easy and fast read whilst offering a little to think about, too.

The characters, however, may be considered a let-down. At the beginning both are strong and confident, individuals who know what they want. Neither is the sort of person the other would usually go for, their lives being so different, but Kelly is brilliant at showing the reader how well they fit together, the sort of quick friendship that is echoed by the phrase “I feel I’ve known you all my life”. And because there are no expectations of romance at this point, it works very well. Megan is a particularly interesting character of the independent-woman variety, and Connor determined but respectful. The chemistry sizzles even when there is no contact and the idea that these two people are perfect for each other practically leaps off the page. By all accounts the content that follows the first flashback ought to have been very good.

But unfortunately, Waking Up Married suffers from a major issue. Megan agrees to live with Connor, seeing that although the idea of uprooting her life for a drunken marriage is crazy, Connor is correct in his reasoning that their relationship could very well work. The book goes downhill from here as Megan seems to undergo a personality change, asking herself all the questions that would make sense in any other book but due to her obvious compatibility with Connor does not here, and deciding to show her worst face to him everyday in the hope that she will either drive him away or know that he will like her regardless. And lest it be forgotten, the word is “like” because there was never any expectation of love, only affection. Some of the things Megan does are understandable, such as hanging around in her pyjamas all day because she works at home, but others just seem silly and utterly needless. This isn’t to say that Connor is perfect, because he isn’t, but he does keep his head on straight and thinks of the positive. And if the issues were to do with either of them falling in love it would be understandable, but at this point it’s not (that’s not a spoiler as the book’s very premise and genre make it predictable). The strong independent woman becomes annoying and insecure, and it makes no sense.

There are a few themes that, due to the book’s release year, inevitably invite comparisons with Fifty Shades Of Grey, despite the lack of kink in Kelly’s book. The interesting thing is that these things are all dealt with in the way that James ought to have dealt with them in her book but didn’t. Wanting more in the relationship whilst not being threatened, the rich business owner who doesn’t make his partner feel uncomfortable – the book is at times the antithesis of last year’s best-seller, which actually gives it more power, despite the vast difference in its overall nature.

However the way the characters come to realise their true feelings is rather sudden and not quite believable. Kelly uses moments such as the character remembering how they were looking at the other in a photograph as a light bulb moment, and this doesn’t work when there had been no mention of this sort of thing previously. That love enters the story is anticipated, but the text should have demonstrated that this was happening as the narrative unfolded.

The relationships of the couple’s parents are convenient, leaving both people disillusioned, but they are at least detailed and explained enough to be plausible. What is perhaps less plausible is Megan’s plan to have a baby as soon as possible. The reader isn’t told of the characters’ ages but it could be safety assumed the biological clock isn’t ticking too fast just yet. And although Megan’s reluctance to wait for another relationship when she finds staying difficult makes sense, her incessant need to stick to the plan and go back to it the moment things with Connor do not seem to be working strikes of selfishness. Indeed this is something a secondary character refers to.

8:42pm… REED: Need you to go to Denver w me.
8:46pm… JEFF: In meeting. Give me 1 hr.
8:53pm… REED: No can do. Want wife back. Going now. Think I cn talk her into it wth sperm. […] Have wht she wants. Solllid plan. Better than hers.

However for all the issues, Waking Up Married is not a bad book. It is often hilariously funny, with lines from Connor such as the above, and an interesting if not always nice cast of secondary characters. The sex scenes are good to read because of the compatibility of the characters, even when the scenes don’t necessarily move the story forward, and it is wonderful to have a book where one person is wealthy but it doesn’t affect the relationship besides the odd mention of a charity dinner or hotel room.

If the characters weren’t so fantastic at the beginning and didn’t regain that quality by the end, this book would have admittedly been average. But because of who they are, without the silly choices, the reader may find it difficult not to continue to the conclusion. Certainly despite protests to the contrary, that is exactly what Megan discovers.

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Because the cinema is always an escape, no matter how bad the world outside.

Publisher: John Murray (Hodder & Stoughton)
Pages: 400
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-848-54031-6
First Published: 24th July 2008
Date Reviewed: 16th January 2013
Rating: 4/5

Lilly Nelly Aphrodite was sent to an orphanage after a failed adoption, and in the first years of the 20th century, living in such a place is bleak. She loves the nun who runs the orphanage, however, and makes friends with Hanne, who brought her (Hanne’s) siblings to the door following the suicide of their mother. But the orphanage will not always be around and life is destined to lose its peacefulness. And in war-torn Germany, it’s hard to get by when you have no relations to help you.

The Luminous Life Of Lilly Aphrodite (titled The Glimmer Palace in America) is the story of a girl’s struggle to live a good life and break free of the stigma of her background. Not quite the luminous life you might expect (more on this in a moment) it manages to not only show how awful the First and Second World Wars were but also puts them in the context of life in Germany. Some of the main characters are Jewish, which gives Colin the opportunity to explore the strife of Jews in a first-hand manner. The inclusion of the film industry allows her to show how life went on despite major social problems, and how the government exploited the media for their own gain.

To be sure this book isn’t, for the most part, about film, despite what the summary and title (both British and American) suggest. Lilly does become an actress but she must make it through several hardships first. Indeed one could consider the title to be ironic, looking at the realities of the backgrounds of film stars who have not come from wealthy families, and the way that Lilly’s early life is the very opposite of happy and luminous. What Lilly’s life is, however, is incredibly interesting, both as a work of fiction and for the factual content it offers the reader. In a world where the villain is not given a voice, Colin’s focus on Germany, and on its citizens, is poignant.

There is a lot of sexual content in the book; there are affairs and the odd sex scene, but what is put in the spotlight is the way adults reacted to children. Colin never implies that paedophilia was widespread, but she does imply that it happened a lot – in other words she never glosses over it. The author tells of street corners and girls dressed as women. Lilly’s friend, Hanne, enables Colin to look further, as Hanne becomes a prostitute and performer at a seedy bar. Where Lilly demonstrates liberation and bettering oneself, Hanne demonstrates what happens when people are neglected and left to fend for themselves. Colin deals with this well and never casts any character as bad unless necessary. It should be noted that there is also a lot of love, both platonic and romantic, and not all of it is mutual or appreciated. Yet behind all this is the fact of the war and the way it made sex more prominent, taboo preferences no longer hidden, and meetings for payment rife.

Given that the book focuses on Lilly’s early life, there is in fact little overall about the German film industry. For the most part, the industry is confined to the first page of each chapter and Colin accounts film premieres, the relationships between stars, and the reaction of people to the extras on screen that they recognise and denigrate for appearing in propaganda. Whilst these events relate to Lilly few times, they provide plenty of new voices to aid Colin in the description of war-torn and then Nazi Germany.

And war-torn Germany was as awful if not worse than other countries. Colin describes the starving, the effect of disease on an already weakened population, and the lengths desperate people go to obtain food. All this is contrasted with wealth, as Colin not only details the lives of those who had no reason to worry about inflation or hunger, but has some of her characters be part of that set also to the effect that the reader, who has just witnessed utter poverty, is thrown with Lilly into a world of expensive toiletries and plentiful amenities. Not only does it give you something to think about, it exposes the corruption and has the ability to truly impact the reader on the average person’s behalf.

The book may be about Lilly in name, premise, and angle, but really it is the story of a nation. It could have used more detailing about the film industry and not been quite so convenient at times, but it cannot be said that it fails to make an impact. The Luminous Life Of Lilly Aphrodite is not so much about Lilly but about anyone of the time. And it is that that makes it a winner.

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Nothing but the castle.

Publisher: Bywater Books
Pages: 454
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-61294-027-4
First Published: September 2012
Date Reviewed: 10th December 2012
Rating: 4.5/5

Please note that this book is the fictionalised story of the author’s family and therefore there are a lot of references to “Blackadder” that will not necessarily refer to the author herself.

Alison Blackadder, instructed by her father to become invaluable to Mary Queen of Scots with the aim of retaining Blackadder castle, begins a life of deception. Having been brought up as a boy in order to mask her from the family’s enemies, Alison finds it easy to be Mary’s eyes and ears in the city, as well as the sovereign’s guard when Mary wants to see the city for herself. Whilst Mary is unattainable, Alison finds herself attracted to other people, however for all her desires one remains the most important – to stay in the Queen’s favour until the castle is regained.

The Raven’s Heart is a grand epic that combines history, politics, and romance, accompanied throughout by a lot of suspense. Indeed the suspense rarely lets go of the narrative; the story speeds along in no time. And considering that almost the entirety of Mary Queen of Scot’s time in her homeland is included, that is a very fine thing.

The epic nature is very much apparent in the storytelling. The beginning of the book focuses on love – Alison’s feelings for the Queen, and the later relationship with one of the maids – creating a sweeping romance, mini plot points arising where Alison’s sexuality causes religion and taboo subjects to enter the fray. But as the book moves on and decisive blows are struck (literally, if you consider the use of execution in those times), romance takes a step back to allow politics, domestic situations, and social history to stake a claim. In other words, the events that do not relate to Blackadder Castle are from popular record and therefore the author lets the dynastic history take over. This in itself is rather wonderful when you consider that the author set out to tell the tale of her ancestors (albeit somewhat fictionalised to fill in the gaps) and means that both the Blackadder tale and the story of Mary Queen of Scots are given ample time; thereby creating a book that is very broad in appeal. The author wants to tell her family’s story, but she never forgets the period of which she is writing and the interest her contemporaries have in it.

Nevertheless, for all the book moves swiftly, it must be said that at times it can seem a bit like a bullet-pointed list. Whilst there is nothing that feels overly quick or lacking in detail, the reader may wonder why the narrative moves quite so fast, even if it’s obvious that Blackadder has made a conscious effort to strip away any text that is unnecessary. Yet the author does look at some events, both fictional and factual, in great detail, and it should be said that the speed and change of scenes and time are a big part of why the book keeps its suspense. Whether the written structure is complimentary or not will likely depend on the reader.

Regardless of the fact the book incorporates romance, attention should be brought to the way sexuality has been approached. Looking at the surface, so to speak – the reference to same-gender relationships on the book’s cover – it must be said that Blackadder’s use of a cross-dressing bisexual woman provides a fantastic contrast to the violent aspects of male perversion present in the novel. The author shows to good effect the difference between harmless same-sex relationships, and perversion. Given that same-sex relationships and bisexuality are often still linked with perversion today, Blackadder demonstrates the marked difference that surely makes the cause for acceptance easy to see. And most interestingly, in choosing these subjects as well as the references to the liberal court of France, the author openly displays the fact that such ways of living have always been a part of humanity. In so doing Blackadder makes use of the opportunity presented to comment on the way different people responded.

The character of Alison, a woman more aligned with manhood, also allows Blackadder the chance to comment somewhat on gender as a whole, and to study the way in which society’s restrictions on what makes a man or woman creates expectations of how people should act. For example, Alison, having lived as a boy all her life, finds talking in a lower register and walking with a wider gait comes more naturally than the dainty traits of the stereotypical woman, and is able to make a decision as to which traits she would like to adopt from her days as a lady-in-waiting.

Unfortunately, with all the events that have been included, the book does start to loosen its grip on suspense before the end. Depending on how invested the reader is in the story of the castle, this may happen when that thread is tied, partly because it can be a surprise, otherwise the natural winding down of the narrative whilst aiming to detail the rest of the reign inevitably slows everything down. In the case of the castle, the story has finished, and thus the continuation of the narrative, albeit necessary to the dynastic tale, shines less brightly. There is also a short period of personification that whilst aligning with the thoughts of the main character, can feel a little convenient and forced.

However the few negatives are relatively minor. Finding anything really off-putting is rather difficult and it has to be said that Blackadder has done a fabulous job of not only introducing her family to the world, but in providing an accessible account of Mary’s reign. There are times when artistic liberties have been taken with the history, but it is easy enough to discover the reality.

The Raven’s Heart is an extraordinary tale of society, politics, love, and one woman’s aim to get back the heritage that ought to have been hers. It will delight the literary interests of a myriad of readers, and perhaps most of all it warrants that the name Blackadder should no longer be confined to a British television series.

I received this book for review from Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours.

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A moment of weakness, a lifetime of ambition, and a hope for happiness somewhere in-between.

Publisher: Sphere (little Brown)
Pages: 499
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-0-7515-3869-4
First Published: 1997
Date Reviewed: 12th November 2012
Rating: 5/5

Alexander turns up on his brother’s tourney circuit, having run away from a deprived monastery. Hervi agrees to take him on, but he’ll have to start at the bottom of the career ladder. If career is what one can call the dead-end “work” that Hervi does. The brothers share their time with the Cerizays, Alexander getting on well with Monday who is close to him in age. It’s a good familial relationship for the most part, until the night both teenagers get drunk and the atmosphere becomes intimate. But Monday doesn’t want the life Alexander offers, a continuation of the life they already lead – she wants the riches her mother once possessed. But leaving it behind won’t be easy after what has happened between them, especially with the added threats posed by Alexander’s enemy and Monday’s earl of a grandfather.

The Champion is a particularly good work. Focusing on ambitions of ordinary people, the personalities of the characters allow the story to move between varying locations and social classes, giving the reader a broad overview of life at the time. The characters also allow for some leadership history also, as whilst the hero, heroine, and their family, are creations of Chadwick’s mind, many others are from the past.

And what fine creations those fictional characters are. As always, Chadwick has conjured some well-rounded people, with many things to both worry about and enjoy, but although they are very likeable, they aren’t without flaws. Indeed part of the plot, the need to better oneself, is cause for a large part of the separation between Alexander and Monday, and there is a place for domestic history too.

Neither Alexander nor Monday start out particularly faithful where sexual relations are concerned, which leaves Chadwick able to examine subjects such as prostitution, sexual favours, and in regards to sex in general, contraception. The latter is particularly prominent in this novel, being discussed by the women openly when they are away from the men, showing the power that a woman could yield over her body when the information was attainable. Whilst a little of the information has been fashioned by Chadwick (she acknowledges this in the back of the book) the vast majority is true to life and demonstrates that things weren’t nearly as straightforward as illustrations may first suggest. Indeed far from being happy with their lot as mothers, Chadwick’s book shows that women in the Middle Ages were just as concerned with pregnancy as we are now, and that away from the obvious issues of childbirth in an unsanitary age, the idea of women being married to pro-create was often limited to the men of the family.

Aside from this, time is spent on sexuality, with Chadwick demonstrating the affects a forced monastic life could have on monks – both on those targeted and those who shouldn’t really have been ordained in the first place, and also the issues that arose in a society where being homosexual was acknowledged but frowned upon. What is nice, where the latter is concerned, is how Chadwick shows that people could still command respect and loyalty, though of course the jokes and the fact that it wouldn’t be the case for less well-off people show society for what it was. And no holds are barred when explaining King John’s marriage to a twelve-year-old – you are told that it happened even if the actual intimate details are left out.

Of course a historical romance would not be such without the sex. As is generally the case, Chadwick both creates spice and closes the door.

Chadwick favours bold females, however in Monday’s case she has laced this boldness with a strong stubbornness that takes some getting used to. Whilst Monday is admirable most of the time, some of her choices may be difficult to fathom, and the consequences of conduct are demonstrated to good effect. Yet Chadwick never suggests that Monday gets what was coming to her; aside from a conversation of how choices have affected lives, Chadwick remains fair, treating her flawed heroine as she would an angelic one. This means that Monday is very real.

Sharing the basic ambition of betterment, Alexander also strays from his path, attracted by a potentially glittering career. He is more grounded, perhaps, than Monday, but this helps the development of both of them flourish, enabling differences both in the subject of their ambitions, and the strength of them, to be discussed fully. Part of the reason the book works so well is this constant evaluation of their development.

And whilst many of Chadwick’s books have family members included, Hervi is an exception. He gets his own storyline, his own development, and continues to play a role. Perhaps best of all, he is funny without being a comic relief, and his thread is just as important as the others.

There are several encounters with the enemy, meaning the concept can feel overused, but it’s important to remember that it is realistic, too. It shows just how crucial family was seen to be, even where there were separations.

A major boon of this book is that unlike many of the others, the plot of The Champion stays right until the end – compared to, for example, Lords Of The White Castle, where the last few chapters seemed to be holding on to a horse that had bolted. This is in part due to the multi-layered story, and the myriad of extra issues that the characters have to deal it – it enables the book to be lacking in dull moments. In addition to this, the story takes place over a few years, with little time spent off page, as it were. In other words you will never turn a page to see a date a few years later after having read something compelling in the last chapter. There are some gaps, but they are minimal, short enough for the reader to be able to guess what would have happened.

The Champion is Chadwick at her best; a detailed novel that includes both fact and fiction, plenty of culture and social politics, a drawn out romance, and ordinary people you can root for. The addition of extra historical issues is a further recommendation and the icing on the cake. To put it simply, if you know little before starting this book, you will know a lot once finished, and unlike the basic information provided by basic education, you will come away knowing a great deal more; and with the added bonus of knowing how it relates to our present day and how far our society has come.

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Can obeying the king lead to happiness?

Publisher: Carina Press (Harlequin)
Pages: 284
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-4268-9400-8
First Published: 2nd July 2012
Date Reviewed: 4th November 2012
Rating: 4.5/5

Katrin was trapped in a wretched marriage, a match made in the interests of her uncle, the king. Now her husband has died, Ethelred wants to make another match for her in order to suit his interests, but Katrin does not want to be sold again and tries to resist. She can’t resist her uncle’s sword-theyn, however, albeit that he is much lower in status than her. If her uncle finds out it may be their undoing, however Katrin may find the outcome better than she’d thought to hope.

Whilst the official blurb of this book gives a lot more insight into the narrative, having, as it does, two heroes, it seemed a good idea to provide only the basics here in case this is your introduction to the book.

Navarre’s Anglo-Saxon tale is in a similar league to the famous Elizabeth Chadwick, featuring sweeping romances, politics, and a cast of believable characters. Navarre’s heroine may seem weaker, but she fits the time. In fact there is a balance within Katrin; she is strong in personality and aims to be as active in domestic society as possible, but she realises where it is better to step back and be meek in order to save her skin. Navarre aptly portrays the men of the time, in fact the first hero, Eomond, is a particularly alpha hero, being incredibly domineering though obviously enthralled by Katrin. It might take the reader some getting used to, this strong woman who will bow down when the pressures of her era take over, but Navarre always keeps her heroine steady – Katrin will always find certain situations difficult and won’t change her personality or feelings at any time. She recognises danger and takes the safest route, and when she knows she can be bold she will be. There is development in the way that Katrin decides to act, namely that she will throw caution to the wind after a time spent assessing the situation, and the way that Navarre makes the development of Raphael match that of Katrin is wonderful.

As said, Eomond is a rather strong character. At times the reader might wonder where the story is headed due to the way he treats Katrin, but Navarre balances it out via his love and his frustrations at his low situation in life. It is interesting, due to Eomond’s character, that the later Raphael is so different. The better match Katrin finds in him seems to demonstrate the difference between the woman naïve about love, and the woman who knows what she wants. Where the heroes are strong but likeable, the author deftly illustrates the fact that Katrin is rather lucky – the other men in her life are not as caring, and indeed King Ethelred himself makes for difficult reading.

It must be noted that Navarre has taken artistic liberties with the history she uses. The good thing is that this is discussed at the back of the book. Anyone who finds Ethelred hard to bear can take note that Navarre made him that way (and it’s nice that whilst the fictional Ethelred is rather horrid, he’s not nearly as misaligned as Gregory’s Anne Boleyn). That said, the basic period has been adhered to, and the interested reader will find that the politics and basic society of the day mirror Navarre’s portrayal.

The romance(s) are well written and mostly devoid of discomfort (the odd phrase may sound over-much, it’s up to the reader to decide how much historic-sounding phrasing they are okay with). Navarre does not always draw the curtains around the bed; when described the scenes are such that they add to the story. For surely scenes where the sex is accompanied by a burgeoning sense of emotional realisation can only develop the narrative further. What is interesting is the way, given the characters Navarre created herself, the strict Christianity is woven into the romance. Rather than simply relegating ideas of pleasure to prostitution and mistresses, and pro-creational intercourse to a marriage, Navarre demonstrates how the church viewed such concepts and how the people sought to align with them – or not, as sometimes happens, which in itself provides a good insight into how early Christianity could hinder relationships when adhered to.

The writing is generally good. There are a couple of occasions when words sound a bit off, for example near the beginning characters say “I say” and “look here” as though they’ve just stepped out of a wardrobe, chain mail is called ring mail, and there is perhaps a bit too much effort made to make the dialogue historic, but these do not detract from the overall experience. Accents remind you of the native lands of the characters as well as the fact that the story started in Scotland, and there is ample medieval phrasing that does work. Katrin has a tendency to think to herself a lot, which sometimes feels strange after all the third-person narrative, but it suits the story to have the insight it provides and offers a real chance for the reader to see what went on in the mind of a strong medieval woman. And it gives evidence and reasoning for the way Katrin acts where dialogue and regular narration does not suffice.

By Royal Command is a stunning epic that spans a long enough period of time for the reader to feel they’ve learned something, without being so long that gaps are present. Whilst being incredibly serious in its illustration of life the book glitters with fantastical romantic elements and plenty of emotion. And whilst having romance at its heart, it doesn’t shy away from the difficulties of the day in terms of gender, political marriage, and sexual relations, as well as showing well how these same elements affected both men and women. In Navarre’s case, men especially, which makes the social history all the more poignant.

History, fictional but fine characters, and a good dose of true politics. By Royal Command rivals the best.

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