There may be tiny spoilers for some of the books I mention, so here’s your warning.
This spring I was craving Simone St. James. She put out one book a year from 2012 to 2016, but then it was two years between Lost Among the Living and The Broken Girls and will now be two years between The Broken Girls and The Sun Down Motel. I don’t know why there has been longer waits between books, if St. James has been taking her time writing them, if it just comes down to scheduling, if Berkley’s being picky about what kind of books they want from her, or what. Regardless, it’s been nearly two years since I read the ARC of The Broken Girls, and I’ve reread her previous books at least twice each in that time. I needed something new.
So I went looking for similar types of novels. Unfortunately, gothic ghost stories—ones actually involving ghosts, not just mysteries—with strong romantic plot threads are pretty niche. The only author I found to write anything truly similar to St. James’s work is Wendy Webb, though the romances between her characters aren’t nearly as good as St. James’s. I enjoyed the three audiobooks my library had in their collection—The Tale of Halcyon Crane, The Fate of Mercy Alban, and The Vanishing—but I wanted more.
I saw a lot of recommendations for Mary Stewart, Barbara Michaels, and Victoria Holt, but my library had no downloadable audiobooks for Stewart or Holt and only a few for Michaels. So I listened to what was available to me—Black Rainbow, Someone in the House, and Be Buried in the Rain—and was not impressed. They were kind of awful, actually. A snail moved faster than Be Buried in the Rain; I hated Megan, the main character of Black Rainbow; and Someone in the House had a thoroughly unsatisfying conclusion.
Despairing of finding the kind of books I wanted to read, I pursued the other authors recommended in the “similar to Simone St. James” lists on Goodreads. While I didn’t find the creepy ghost stories with a side of delectable romance that I wanted, I did find some wonderful new authors that I’m already yearning to reread.
Kristan Higgins writes contemporary romance, such as the Blue Heron series (top row), as well as what I consider contemporary mainstream fiction (I’m trying to get away from the term “women’s fiction”) with a huge dollop of romance. She can get a little long-winded, but her work is definitely character-driven with deep MCs who are struggling with no-nonsense problems like eating disorders, PTSD, self-confidence and -worth, survivor’s guilt, broken homes, and—the best ingredient for any character-driven novel—dysfunctional families. None of the Catch of the Day books were available from the library, but I devoured the Blue Heron series as well as the stand alone novels On Second Thought, Now That You Mention It, Good Luck with That, and If You Only Knew. My favorite was probably Good Luck with That, not only because I related to the characters’ struggles with their weight and self-image, but because I loved the adorkably awkward Will and the relationship he developed with Marley, even if said relationship came about in a rather unbelievable fashion.
I briefly tried out Ruth Ware and listened to The Woman in Cabin 10. It wasn’t bad, but I have no interest to read more of her work.
My love for Anna Lee Huber snuck up on 
me. I listened to the Verity Kent series first (This Side of Murder, Treacherous Is the Night), and my reception was lukewarm. The mysteries were okay, not super riveting but intriguing enough to hold my interest, but I hate love triangles, and there’s a strong one between Verity, her husband, and the great guy she would probably have gotten with if her husband hadn’t come back from the dead. Also, I’m not sure if I like Sidney, her husband. He seems to genuinely care about Verity, seems to be a decent enough guy, but something about him rubs me wrong. There’s an air of asshole about him that I can’t ignore. So while I enjoyed the books well enough, I didn’t love them, and I was wary of trying out the Lady Darby series (The Anatomist’s Wife, Mortal Arts, A Grave Matter, A Study in Death, A Pressing Engagement, As Death Draws Near, A Brush with Shadows, An Artless Demise), afraid it would also be meh.
Huber’s work tends to have a slow pace, sometimes to the point of becoming boring and losing my attention. The Anatomist’s Wife started that way, but once I began to like Keira (aka Lady Darby); once her family proved endearing; once I became curious about what might develop between her and Sebastian; and once I had to discover the culprit of the dark, atrocious murders, I was more invested. By the end, I wanted more of all of it—especially her and Gage. I grew a bit impatient when it took a few books for them to get together, but I realize it was a reasonable, realistic pace for their relationship.
Oh, how I adore those two—and their supporting characters as well. Keira’s sister and her family are all sweethearts. Sebastian’s father is an asshole—or just a hard man who needs to sort out his priorities?—but as he softens toward Keira, I soften toward him. I’m predicting now that once Keira and Sebastian’s baby arrives, Lord Gage will melt into a puddle of love and be at the child’s mercy. And that gangster—gah, what’s his name…this is the downside to not having hard copies to reference… Bonnie Brock! I’m still not sure if he’s to be feared or if he secretly holds a soft spot for Keira, but he’s a fascinating character either way. Also, there’s Keira’s maid and Sebastian’s valet, both of whom are good, trustworthy friends—and I wish they’d just get together already! Or maybe I’m just imagining the undercurrent/tension between them. I’ve even come to care about Marsdale. 
The mysteries themselves are usually intriguing enough, but not gonna lie, I love these books for the characters. I cannot wait for book 8; I hope Keira has the baby in that one, though I suppose it wouldn’t surprise me if Huber drags it out into book 9.
After finishing An Artless Demise, I checked out an ebook copy of Secrets in the Mist, yearning for more of Huber’s work. And I quite liked it! I’m glad she’s writing another in that series. I think she’s earned a spot on my authors-to-buy-automatically list.
Deanna Raybourn’s Veronica Speedwell mystery series set in late nineteenth-century England is addictive and very humorous. Veronica is unique and endearing with her sharp wit and overflowing self-confidence. A bit like a female Sheldon Cooper, only far more worldly and far less literal. Stoker, though, is probably my favorite character; he has wit and intelligence to match Veronica’s, but he’s emotionally vulnerable in a way that she isn’t, a way that makes me want to clutch him to my breast and rock until he doesn’t walk around so obviously scarred.
Their chemistry is off the charts. They’re tossed together by dangerous circumstances and, in the course of working together to solve mysteries, they develop a bond forged organically by common interests and a close kinship, the depths of which they’re reluctant to acknowledge. They become best friends, and it’s so obvious they’re in love with each other, but Veronica shies from the idea of becoming romantically involved with Stoker, afraid it would undermine her independence. He’s a bit gun-shy as well, what with the scandal of his failed marriage, but his fear fades as his love grows. By book 4, I think the only thing holding him back was Veronica’s skittishness. They finally acknowledge their feelings for each other in that book, but they have yet to act on their feelings, though they thoroughly intend to. I can’t imagine Raybourn would skip their having sex for the first time; she doesn’t have to be graphic, but there’s been so much build up and anticipation that she can’t have them finally have sex off-screen.
I believe in either book 5 or 6, they’re going to get to deal with Jack the Ripper. There are also loose ends concerning the prince and Lady C’s baby (Did they leave him or her behind in Madeira?!). I cannot wait for A Murderous Relation next March.
Lastly—the series if full of one-liners, but my favorite has to be from Stoker to Veronia in book 1: “I smoked opium once. It felt like listening to you.” I laughed so hard.
The audiobooks I’ve mentioned so far kept me occupied from the tail end of March to the middle of May. I got over my craving for gothic ghost stories—well, not completely, but I came down from the level of obsession, anyway. My tastes turned nostalgic, perhaps to console me because I hadn’t been able to find the kinds of stories I’d wanted. I decided to listen to some old favorites by Julie Garwood; I revisit her Scottish romances often. Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, Brilliance Audio will not let libraries purchase downloadable audio copies of many of Garwood’s novels, and I’m not able to get the library’s CD copies, so I was forced to purchase my own CD copies. (Luckily, two or three decades have passed since they were originally published, so I was able to find new copies at only 50% list price.)
Saving Grace, The Bride, The Prize, and The Secret remain some of my favorite books of all time—and I’ve read a lot of books. I purchased The Wedding because it’s the sequel to The Bride, and I couldn’t remember if I’d read it or not. At first nothing in the story seemed familiar, then I gradually recognized bits here and there and came to the conclusion that I hadn’t been able to remember it because I’d read it once, disliked it, and was disinclined to read it ever again. Brenna was an okay heroine, but she got on my nerves sometimes because she either did or said something stupid. Connor was simply an ass, which the book tried to excuse with a tragic past and emotional trauma, but I wasn’t buying it. I also found it kinda super creepy that we saw the two interact while he was a grown man—a young man, granted, but still grown—and she was a child, like single digits. I’m not usually one to judge age gaps, especially in historicals, but knowing he’s more than ten years older than her is different than seeing them interact as adult and child, then trying not to remember that when they’re having hot sex.
There are other Garwood novels that I loved back in the day but that I haven’t revisited recently. The Clayborne series comes to mind, as well as the Crown’s Spies and perhaps a few of the FBI series… I have all the print books, but since it’s easier for me to listen than sit down and read, I’ll probably acquire the audio CDs one by one…
Since I was in the groove of Scottish historical romances, I thought I’d try out Monica McCarty’s Highland Guard series, which I’d been meaning to do for years. Not gonna lie, I didn’t like it much. I forced myself to get through the first four books—The Chief, The Hawk, The Ranger, and The Viper—before giving up on the series. I think I disliked them largely because the books are more historical political thrillers than romances; they’re dark and serious and intense and all about Robert Bruce’s efforts to become king. So while I give props to McCarty for doing major research and seeming to know her shit, I don’t plan to continue the series. The books were so grim and gritty, and at times the heroes were just horny assholes. On that note, she tends to make sex a character, and it made me uncomfortable sometimes.
I did give her Lost Platoon series the benefit of the doubt, however, and liked them quite a bit better than the Highland Guard books. They weren’t as saturated with war and politics and read like most other contemporary military romance. None of them were particularly memorable, but they were pleasant ways to pass the time.
The Highland Guard books ruined my appetite for Scottish historical romances, so I decided to do a complete 180 and dive into contemporary urban fantasy romance, namely the Love at Stake series by Kerrelyn Sparks (How to Marry a Millionaire Vampire, Vamp in the City, A Verry Vampy Christmas, Be Still My Vampire Heart, The Vampire Next Door, All I Want for Christmas Is a Vampire, Secret Lives of Vampires, Forbidden Nights with a Vampire, The Vampire and the Virgin, and more). Having read her Embraced series and loved it, and knowing she intends to start a spin-off series featuring the children of the main series MCs, I wanted to check out the ones that started it all. I got through the first eight books plus one of the novellas, and they were good. Great, even—humorous and imaginative and endearing. I’m not sure they’re exceptional, though; they were probably only as successful as they were at the beginning because they came out while Twilight and vampires in general were blowing up as a trend. You can go on the series’s page on Goodreads and study the number of ratings and reviews. They have similar numbers through 2011, then begin to gradually decline as interest waned in their topic. I’m not surprised Sparks tried to revitalize her sales by starting a new semi-epic fantasy series featuring characters with “abilities,” tapping into the medieval epic and superhero trends.
Anyway, regardless of trends, I liked these books. I probably liked the first one the most because I was discovering a new and fascinating world. With the subsequent books, the novelty wore off, and I could tell Sparks was struggling to think of new angles for the plot she was recycling. Mortal meets a vampire they’re attracted to; Vampire is attracted back; Vampire juggles falling in love with keeping vampire secrets while the mortal keeps noticing weird things; the mortal inevitably finds out Vampire is a vampire, and the shit hits the fan. Sparks introduced the idea of werecreatures somewhere around the fourth book, though a werecreature didn’t headline until book 7. And from what I understand, book 10 introduces angels. I haven’t gotten that far yet, but I will eventually. After book 8, I needed a break. I wouldn’t say the books weren’t compelling enough to keep my interest—I’m actually quite looking forward to reading about Carlos the werepanther, the orphans he’s trying to protect, and the other Whelan sister—but I just needed something different for a while, you know?
I read a print copy of Janet Evanovich’s The Big Kahuna when it came out at some point between vampire books. With Stephenie Plum spinning her wheels, the Nick and Kate series is probably my favorite at present. I think Lee Goldberg’s influence was a factor; the books he co-authored seemed to be a teeny bit more grounded and less ridiculous than Evanovich’s recent solo efforts. But Goldberg didn’t co-author this installment—the production for this book seemed pretty crazy, changing titles once and co-authors twice—so I wasn’t sure what I would find. There’s no way to know what it would have been like with Goldberg co-writing, but I actually enjoyed Kahuna quite a bit. Not one word of it was serious, but every now and then I don’t mind a book that’s utterly implausible and ridiculous as long as the characters are solid and likable and the plot’s compelling. Nick was a macho clown, Kate was the straight man who couldn’t resist his charm, and as usual they were accompanied by a merry band of endearing weirdos. Their adventure in Hawaii was thrilling.
After Sparks’s vampire series, I moved on to another favorite I revisit once in a while—Envy by Sandra Brown. Sometimes I adore Brown’s romantic plot threads, sometimes they’re only meh. Envy has one of the romances I adore. It has to be because Parker is so damn emotionally vulnerable. I just wanted to clutch his head to my bosom and rock, as I wanted to do for Stoker in the Veronica Speedwell books. No matter how much Parker blustered, his insecurities were plain to see. I loved that Maris had a healthy vat of self-respect and didn’t hesitate to let the men around her know they were being dicks. She wouldn’t stand for Parker’s attempts to shock her with crude talk, and she wouldn’t stand for Noah’s lies and infidelity. Maris was one of those quietly strong women who never needed to raise her voice to make her point. Plus I related to other aspects of her personality; particularly in that she’s an avid reader and sometimes has a hard time separating authors from their work.
After Envy I listened to S. E. Hinton’s old classic The Outsiders. I loved it in high school, and I love it now, though I can relate to little of it. And—damn it—I still think “Socs,” short for Socials and pronounced “soh-shuhz,” is a terrible way to shorten a word for convenience. It’s just a tongue twister waiting to happen. That’s probably why my class insisted on calling them “socks” when we took turns reading out loud in class. Just one hard syllable. Done and done.
There’s only one more author to mention, then I’ll have regaled you with every book I’ve consumed in the last four months. *raises hand, nods graciously* Please, hold your applause. I know this is riveting stuff.
I’ve seen Mary Balogh’s name around but never read one of her books. I decided that needed to change, so I downloaded a few of her books from the library. Heartless was first, and I enjoyed it. I felt so bad for Anna, who was a good person dealt a really shitty hand. A really shitty hand. I was afraid Lucas was going to be one of those heroes who refuses to have anything to do with the heroine until he wants sex and denies his feelings for her up till the end, but he softened—reluctantly, perhaps—quite quickly toward her. It was clear he admired and adored her pretty much from the start, thought he resented that she kept secrets.
It hurt his feelings more than it angered him—and there’s the emotional vulnerability I love in my heroes. And oh my god, his exuberant love for their daughter was just—the best thing ever. (Wow, that was a really Millennial sentence.) The villain was such a fucking creep, but I was glad when it was revealed he hadn’t raped Anna, as we were led to believe. I did get disgusted with Anna when she refused to ask Luke for help for so long, but I think I understand why.
The sequel, Silent Melody, was more drawn-out than it needed to be—I think the first half could have been trimmed and slimmed—but I still enjoyed it. Again, the unabashed joy the adults took in playing with the children was one bright, shining aspect of novel. Ashley grew up to be a worthy hero, and Emily was just as endearing here as she was in Heartless, and it was nice to see the sincere connection between them paid off.
I moved on to Balogh’s most recent series following the Westcott family. Someone to Love was beautiful. I loved Ana’s quiet earnestness and sincerity, and it touched me that she loved her siblings the moment she learned she had them, sight unseen. Even after they were terrible to her, she loved them, wanted to help them, wished them the best. Honestly, I doubt someone that good exists, but in the age of aggressive feminism, sometimes it’s nice to experience a woman who’s kind and gentle as well as the portrait of dignity. She wasn’t meek. I wasn’t sure about Avery, the hero, at first… Alpha males are so commonly depicted in romantic fiction that it can be startling to come across a beta. Though I don’t think he’s quite a beta… He’s short, lean, and adverse to violence, but he’s trained in martial arts and can take down a belligerent bully without breaking a sweat if he really needs to, much to everyone’s utter astonishment. He’s also a duke and has more money than he could spend in several lifetimes, which makes him a society alpha, I guess.
The only things I didn’t like about Someone to Love were Ana’s letters as a literary device. There were too many of them and most times they described scenes I would rather have seen in real time or recapped in detail ones that already happened. If I were her editor, I probably would have suggested she give them importance or get rid of them altogether.
Someone to Hold didn’t have leads as charismatic as Love did, so it was handicapped in that way. It was also an undertaking for Balogh to turn Camille from an utter horrid bitch into a sympathetic and likable character. I think she managed it, though; I’m not sure I’m particularly fond of Camille, but I definitely didn’t think she was a snobby, cold-hearted bitch anymore. Joel was a sweetie from start to finish; really there isn’t much to say about him. Coming after the high stakes of Heartless and major drama of Silent Melody and Someone to Love, Someone to Hold wasn’t all that exciting. So my overall feeling for it was meh.
Finally, I listened to another stand alone titled Longing. I…liked it. I think. Honestly, it wasn’t much of a romance, it was far more focused on the economic troubles of a small mining town in Wales. Like war and politics, economics are a snoozefest for me. So I’m not sure what to say about it. As a romance, it sucked. There was a love triangle, and you know how I hate love triangles. The heroine would have been happy with either suitor, but oops, one died. Decision made for her. As mainstream fiction, it was pretty good, though not totally to my taste. One thing I really did like about the story, however, was the relationship between Sian and her father. It was such a minor part, but I loved it.
And there you have it. *scrolls through list and realizes how many books there are* *chuckles ruefully* Do you see why I don’t review every book I consume?
*studies list again*
I gotta get out more.
