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.