I’ve enjoyed futuristics for years, so I was intrigued by the description of Cheryl Brooks’ debut, Slave.

He may be the last of his species . . . whose sexual talents were the envy of the galaxy. Even filthy, chained, and beaten his feline gene gives him a special aura.

Jacinth is on a rescue mission . . . and she needs a man she can trust with her life.

Enmeshed in a tangle of deception, lust, and love, they must elude a race of violent killers and together forge a bond stronger than any chains.

Slave is a lighter read than I expected it would be, given the subject matter. This isn’t a bad thing—Jack (Jacinth) has a distinctive voice filled with humor (if a bit too heavy on exclamation points). Here are a few examples.

I also wondered what he would do once we found Ranata and his obligation to me was fulfilled. Would he take his forty credits and disappear, or would he follow me home like a stray dog? It was probably better for everyone if our ways parted—although if he truly wanted to stay with me and would keep on rubbing my neck like that . . . I might just decide to keep him.

and

I found that I truly liked having Cat no more than a chain’s length away from me—although we were usually even closer than that. Cat either held my hand or had his arm around me for most of the journey that day, and I didn’t even get annoyed by the pack-droid’s singing. It was then that I decided that whoever designed the damn thing must have been in love—who else could stand it?

Brooks has a knack for world building. I got a kick out of all the different devices and substances Jack uses; as a trader, she is always looking for something she can sell.

The planet where Jack believes her sister is being held is a revealing one—literally. Men and women wear strategic clothing designed for easy access. This results in some humorous moments. One in particular as they consider how to ride horses in the clothes. Another scene, this one in a restaurant, struck me as distasteful rather than amusing, but other opinions may vary.

The light tone seems incongruous at times, such as when we learn the story behind the disappearance of Jacinth’s sister. It’s discussed but glossed over in a way that doesn’t feel true to the experience. (I don’t want to say more to avoid giving spoilers.) Cat’s enslavement is handled with more realism.

The romance was nice, although I would have liked to see Cat’s point of view. Aside from his enslavement and his growing feelings for Jack, he remains somewhat enigmatic.

Ultimately, Slave rates 3 out of 5. It’s an interesting tale best not taken too seriously. I’m intrigued enough to seek out the next installment of the series.

Some books are multi-course meals, each course providing nourishment and feeding the soul. Others are pure confection—the equivalent of a frothy dessert. Sasha White’s books are always meaty reads that both satisfy the palette and make you think. Such is the case with Wicked: 4 out of 5.

Bad Boy divorce attorney Karl Dawson has seen all the ways love can go wrong. That’s why he’s given up on it. Jaded and restless, he has playmates, not girlfriends. A leather-clad Dominant, he comes and goes as he pleases in the city’s after-dark playgrounds. That’s how he likes it.

Lara Fox is an independent jack-of-all-trades, who can do anything she sets her mind to—except that falling-in-love thing. She’s got a need for control too strong for most men, and an inability to walk away from a challenge. Including a challenge from Karl. He’s cocky, arrogant, and demanding. That’s how she needs it.

They’re perfect for each other. But what begins as a sensual battle of wills turns into a journey neither is prepared for when Lara is threatened and emotional walls start to crumble . . .

The great thing about this book is that Karl and Lara are perfect for each other—watching them discover that is a treat. Theirs is no conventional story. Lara explores the D/s world, and it’s a path that takes her to some interesting places. What I like best about White’s books is that even if her characters don’t pursue my particular fantasy, it’s always clear why the characters do what they do. Lara and Karl are both well-motivated characters whose responses seem real.

Wicked is a book of individual journeys and romance, and the way these elements work together is quite lovely. Karl is fantastic: a man who knows himself well but discovers something more, something he never believed he could have. Lara is a strong woman willing to take risks.

Those who want to read Wicked should be advised that it is a D/s story, and the subplot centers on a gay couple in Lara’s apartment building. While I liked the secondary couple, I wasn’t fully persuaded by the resolution of their story. It was romantic, but I’m not sure they dealt completely with the issue that divided them.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the character-based focus of Wicked; it’s a story I can easily recommend.

The recent At the Back Fence at All About Romance got me thinking about how I started reading romance. As a kid, I read everything I could get my hands on, so I read a lot of fantasy, classics, and lots of teen romance. I waded through a lot to find books and authors I liked, but I had my favorites nonetheless. I remember making countless trips to the library, searching for teen romances I hadn’t read.

Then I got a job at a used bookstore. Regencies were booming at the time, and I started reading them. For a while, I lived on a steady diet of Regencies, discovering authors such as Carla Kelly, Elizabeth Mansfield, and Patricia Veryan. I liked some of Mary Balogh’s books, but I thought some were too edgy.

How things have changed.

It was a gradual evolution, but I shifted from reading Regencies and series to single-title historicals and contemporaries. Now I read in most subgenres and heat levels. My favorite subgenre varies, but I prefer books on the steamy side. (Not to say that I don’t enjoy less steamy romance; it’s just not my preference.)

So that’s my start. I’d love to hear yours here—or read it at the ATBF forum.

I decided to read another of my TBR books, so I picked up No More Lies by Susan Squires. Though the idea is imaginative, the story didn’t quite work for me: 2.5 out of 5.

Dr. Holland Banks is head of the Century Psychiatric Hospital and president of the Schizophrenia Research Foundation . . . but is she going insane? The rest of the world seems to be. There’s a sniper on the loose, she’s being stalked, her father is conducting deadly experiments, and she’s begun to hear voices: other people’s thoughts. But a man was just admitted to her hospital—one who searched her out, whose touch can make her voices subside. Is he crazy, too, or a solution to her fears? A labyrinth of conspiracy is rising around her, and Holland’s life is about to change forever. Very soon there will be . . . no more lies.

I have to give Squires credit for creating a unique story. The hero and heroine are psychic, but the explanation for it is different than any other I’ve seen. The story took a novel approach to the concept, and it kept me guessing what would come next as I read.

Holland and Jeff’s psychic powers increase as they make love, and I liked how this is handled. Yes, this brings pleasure, but it makes both of them wary as well. It seemed very plausible that two people would worry about preserving a separate sense of self under the circumstances. The initial scenes about their reservations are very nicely done.

At the core of the story, though, is a conspiracy that never quite seemed credible. When it comes to paranormal romance, I can apparently accept vampires, shifters, and demons without a qualm. In this romantic suspense, however, I kept thinking how incredible the whole thing seemed. The story behind the villain just kept getting worse and worse—again to the point where it strained credulity.

I was also a bit bothered by a couple of Holland’s comments about “loons” and being “loony.” These mentioned seemed a bit out of place for a professional, especially one who is the president of the Schizophrenia Research Foundation.

I like Squires, and I’ve read one of her other books, The Companion. I recommend that one over this one.

For the second month of Keishon’s TBR Day, I selected Christine Merrill’s An Unladylike Offer. I started to read it several months ago, but set it aside after a few chapters. The reason? I thought, Here we go—innocent miss meets philandering hero. Not again.

Miss Esme Canville’s brutal father is resolved to marry her off—but she won’t submit tamely to his decree. Instead, she’ll offer herself to notorious rake Captain St. John Radwell and enjoy all the freedom of a mistress!

St. John is intent on mending his rakish ways. He won’t seduce an innocent virgin. But Esme is determined, beautiful, and very, very tempting . . .

When I returned to this book, I expected a fairly standard read, but I vowed to finish it. I did, and it turned out to be a better-than-standard story: 3.5 out of 5.

The beginning of An Unladylike Offer is a bit slow, but the pacing improves as the story progresses, especially when Esme goes to live with St. John’s sister-in-law. As for the characters, I found St. John the more interesting of the couple. He vacillates between believing his family’s expectations of him and wanting to be better. His transformation is perhaps the best aspect of the book.

With the romance, Esme recognizes her feelings early in the story, but it is a longer process for St. John. It’s fascinating to watch him grapple with he feels for Esme, especially since he must marry a wealthy woman.

Apart from the slow beginning and a too-predictable turn toward the end, An Unladylike Offer is a story worth reading. I will certainly read Merrill’s books in future.

A few chapters into HelenKay Dimon’s Right Here, Right Now, I had an idea of what I would get. In the first chapter, boy breaks up with girl, so I figured the rest of the book would run as follows: boy gets girl back, girl realizes boy is keeping secrets, girl rebuffs boy, girl realizes he deceived her for her own good, girl gets boy. An time-honored and traditional plot, and I expected this story to follow it. Instead, I got something more than I expected; Dimon provides a nuanced story that lifts Right Here, Right Now well above the norm: 4.5 out of 5.

For Gabby Pearson, being dumped in public before the dessert course has to be the lowest of the low—especially when it’s the old, “It’s not you, it’s me” speech. Honestly, how about something original: “I have five minutes to live” (very possible); “It’s not you, it’s the voices in my head” (thanks for the warning); or “I am such a powerful sexual being I could put you in a coma with one kiss” (wishful thinking). Not that Gabby would ever know since Reed Larkin never bothered to take her to bed. Why does a girl bother (to shave)? The only thing left to do is offer the guy a goodbye-forever drink . . . on the head.

Damn. Reed did his job—he walked away from Gabby rather than drag her into his unstable life and danger. Now he’s wearing her full glass of win instead of throwing her onto his sheets. It doesn’t help that the woman is smart as hell and could stop a man’s breath with that wide smile and those shapely curves. Gabby has it all, and Reed wants every inch of her. And now the joke’s on him, because new intel says Gabby has just become his assignment: He has one day to win her back, get information from her she may not know she has, and somehow protect her at the same time.

The stakes are high. The odds are impossible. And the mutual attraction is as hot and strong as Gabby’s anger. And Reed can only hope his next speech—“It’s you, baby, it’s definitely you . . .”—will be the start of something wild, something crazy, something dangerous, something wonderful . . .

The characters are where Right Here, Right Now shines. Reed’s initial pursuit of Gabby is mandated by his job, and he is conflicted from the beginning. The conflict goes deeper than this specific assignment—Reed is questioning many things about his job, and the situation with Gabby brings all his doubts to the surface. Beneath all the machinations, it’s clear that Reed pursues Gabby because he wants her.

As the story progresses, it’s evident that Gabby is equally complicated. She’s no wilting flower who blithely accepts Reed’s actions. She shows him exactly how she feels about him breaking up with her, and he has to work to get her back. Their dialogue in this section is especially crisp and witty, which makes the book a quick and fun to read.

What I most enjoyed, though, is the way the conflict plays out. I don’t want to give spoilers, so suffice it to say that the final confrontation doesn’t happen the way you might expect it to, and that’s what made Right Here, Right Now such a strong book for me. This book also features one of the most memorable, emotion-filled love scenes I’ve read this year.

If, like me, you’ve been lamenting the shortage of contemporary romance, Right Here, Right Now is one you’ll want to pick up.

I’ve read a couple of Stephanie Tyler’s books now, and it’s fair to say I really enjoy her writing style. Her latest book is Beyond His Control, and it’s a winner: 4.5 out of 5.

Assistant District Attorney Ava Turkowski knows about leading a dangerous life—her father was a risk taker who died in the line of duty and her beloved brother is taking just as many chances. Now a high-profile case has landed Ava herself in the crosshairs—and the only man standing between her and certain death is the one she can’t forget.

Justin Brandt was Ava’s brother’s best friend, her protector during her wild-child teenage years . . . and the object of her hottest fantasies. Now he’s a highly trained Navy SEAL with a body to die for and he’s been tasked with keeping Ava alive. Which means keeping her close—the closer the better . . .

Tyler excels at creating a vivid world for readers to be immersed. The danger to Ava and the conflict she and Justin face is established quickly and feels real. I liked seeing them confront the issues that kept them apart, and it was nice that it wasn’t something that could be solved in one conversation. The story explores the challenges of being in a military relationship. The resolution felt natural and right.

Justin and Ava are both well-motivated characters whose feelings for each other run deep. Their story is interspersed with a secondary romance featuring Ava’s brother. In general, I prefer books without secondary stories, but the one in this book as a nice, engrossing accompaniment to the main romance.

The suspense is excellent, and it never overwhelms the romance. If you enjoy military/SEAL romance, you should definitely try Tyler’s books.

I have an extra (used) copy of Beyond His Control, and I’d like to give it away! Just comment here about the last Harlequin/Silhouette book you read. (If you don’t usually read them, just post that.) One comment/entry per person, and I’ll take comments until April 15. The winner will be contacted and announced the following week. Come on out, lurkers. I know you’re out there.

After hearing about Kristie’s Crusade, I figured I would probably like North and South when I was able to watch it. I’ve had it on hold at the library for months now, just waiting for my turn in the queue. When my turn finally rolled around, I sat down and told myself I’d watch the first of four parts. About four hours later, I finished watching the program.

I loved it. Loved it. No real surprise—I’m a crusader.

What a gorgeous program! The acting is terrific—yes, I love Richard Armitage, and Daniela Denby-Ashe does a fabulous job as well. The music is fantastic. Though I only watched the movie once, I can still hear bits of music in my head.

There are some truly great moments, all of which Kristie has covered, but I have to share a few thoughts as well. Armitage does an amazing job of showing how his character falls in love with Margaret—despite the folly of it, the hopelessness he feels. It was beautiful to watch.

The initial proposal was wonderfully memorable. Though I wanted her to say yes, and therefore I sympathized with Thornton, I could relate to Margaret’s discomfort with social situations as she just made everything worse. I don’t think anyone could watch it and not feel the pain of both characters.

Then there’s the amazing moment where Thornton wants her to look back at him as she’s riding out of his life. Honestly, it was difficult not to get a bit swoony about a man who loves that completely.

As for the end . . . I won’t spoil it but will simply say it lived up to the hype.

I wish I could have watched it again, but I couldn’t renew it at the library. More than 80 people have it on hold. I guess word of the Crusade is spreading.

I’m going to buy my own copy so I don’t have to wait another few months before seeing it again.

I started reading Maggie Price after reviewing one of her books for The Romance Reader. The book was good, and I’ve picked up several of Price’s books since then. Shattered Vows is one I bought when it was released in 2004, and it’s sat waiting to be read until now.

To: Lieutenant Brandon McCall
Subject: Temporary Assignment

An escaped murderer has vowed revenge against you for killing his cousin on the job, and he has targeted your estranged wife. Due to your familiarity with the convict—and his potential victim—you are hereby assigned to protect Victoria McCall until further notice.

The two of you will move into a safe house ASAP. Spending tension-filled days in such close proximity may lead to the resurrection of powerful feelings long thought dead, but do not let yourselves be distracted by renewed love. Your lives are on the line—and at times like this, desire can be deadly.

This book didn’t quite resonate with me. I got frustrated with the heroine’s I’m-in-danger-but-I-don’t-want-the-hero’s-help attitude. Maybe I’ve seen it once too often in romance. In this case, Victoria is a private investigator, has gun training, etc., so her determination to be self-sufficient is more motivated. Still, there’s a reason law enforcement officers have backup. It was tough to accept she felt that way even after nearly being strangled to death by one of the villain’s goons.

Price has worked in law enforcement, which usually adds a nice layer to her stories. In this case, though, I kept asking whether things would really happen that way. Would someone who is tucked away in a safe house go undercover—and into danger—where she could be recognized? The disguise helps, but the scenario still seemed implausible.

The romance didn’t quite work for me until near the end, partly because I didn’t feel like I got to know the characters. Victoria doesn’t want to rely on anyone; Bran wants someone who needs him. Their persistent attraction is obvious, but I wanted to have a deeper understanding of the characters.

The writing is strong, but the story didn’t engage my emotions. I rate it a 2.5 out of 5. If you’d like to try Maggie Price, I recommend Sure Bet instead.

This month, my TBR challenge is to read series books that have been in my TBR a while. I’ve had Terry McLaughlin’s Learning Curve for a couple of years now. I read a few chapters, then set it aside. I decided to pick it up again and see what I thought.

High school history teacher Joe Wisniewski may be in a rut, but he dug it himself and he’s not planning on getting out anytime soon. The last thing he wants is to mentor a starry-eyed newcomer, so when he gets an unexpected assignment—Emily Sullivan, a student teacher with a steamroller smile and dynamite legs—he digs in deeper and ducks for cover.

Emily has looked up to the legendary “Wiz” for a long time. In her opinion, the man is coasting these days, and she’s sure a little change in his routine is exactly what he needs. Besides this assignment is her chance to prove to her family—and herself—that she can stick to one project.

The question is: Will Emily get Joe fired up or just plain fired?

The first part of the book is a bit slow, and I didn’t initially connect with the characters. That’s why I stopped reading the first time. The further I got into the story, though, the better it got. Emily was very dedicated to the job and to Joe, and boy, could I relate to his feeling of burnout.

As the story continues, both characters become more real and sympathetic. I loved the scene where Joe ends up taking Emily to her house for Thanksgiving. Watching Emily fight her feelings for him even as her mom recognizes them made the story more compelling. And after that, the book gets even better.

At times the language is almost lyrical. Take this paragraph.

And then someone plucked her off the floor and tossed her up and around like a rag doll, and she fell against a solid chest and into a pair of long arms that closed around her the way she liked best—she was home. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and in that moment, as his big hands cradled her back and his breath puffed warm against her throat, she knew that she’d been wrong about everything. He wasn’t the emotional half of her emotional equation. He was its sum, its center, its completion.

She was in love with him.

Learning Curve ended up being a sweet, touching love story. I’m definitely going to look for Terry McLaughlin’s books in future. If the beginning had been stronger, I’d rate this higher, but I give it a 3.5 out of 5.