Title: The Earl and the Enchantress
Author: Paullett Golden
Series: The Enchantresses #1
A solid, well-written debut with relatable characters
Thank you to the author, who asked if I would like to read an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I liked this book quite a bit! I wouldn’t say I was utterly riveted, but I didn’t like having to stop reading, either. I had no major problems with it, but a few small things bothered me. Not enough to detract from my enjoyment, though.
Thoughts on the writing and story
There were several parallels to Pride and Prejudice, but I’m not sure if they were intentional or if P&P was just a heavy influence on Golden. Either way, they were subtle and I had fun spotting them.
Golden is a good writer. She knows how to structure plot, how to make flawed characters sympathetic and lovable, and has a very firm grasp on theme. Also, she had some great lines. My favorite was: “His were the eyes of a dreamer, of a thinker, of someone who had stood on the edge of a cliff and wondered what it would be like to fly.”
Also, the book contained a thoughtful dialogue about women’s independence that wasn’t all “men drool, feminists rule.” The only bias was that of the characters, and that, too, was thoughtfully, not spitefully, presented. At 20% Sebastian made an argument that actually made me stop, tilt my head, and consider the situation beyond my own biased modern opinion. Is it more freeing for a woman to not wed and remain dependent on family or employer, or to make a careful match with someone who respects her views and will allow her to keep her own money to do with as she pleases?
It’s a very good question; I’m not entirely sure how I would answer it. My knee-jerk reaction would be that a woman is far more free by not wedding. But at that time, single women did not support themselves. They were always someone else’s burden. They did not live alone or conduct their own business. They either lived with and were supported by their parents, their husbands, or an employer/the church. Widows were another story, but single women had very few choices. To Liz’s thinking, the number of men who would respect a woman like her was very small, so she had resigned herself to spinsterhood and employment.
There wasn’t necessarily a saggy middle, the pace was pretty steady, but there were passages of musings and internal dialogue that went on for not only pages but entire chapters, albeit short ones. I did space out a few times during those passages, but I don’t think I missed much.
I personally didn’t feel the characters’ internal dialogue was redundant, but I would understand if some readers did think that. Sebastian was good at thinking himself in circles; his arc regressed a few times before peaking.
While most of the narrative was pretty grounded, there was one scene that was unusually ridiculous. In the middle of one night in late October they ended up playing around on the beach and in the water. They made love then lay naked in the grass. And all I could think was, “Aren’t you fucking cold? You’re gonna get pneumonia!”
Given what happened to Lilith—or rather, what Sebastian thought had happened to Lilith—and Liz’s penchant to swim alone, I thought for sure Liz would get into trouble in the water and he’d have to save her from drowning, bysodoing cleansing his conscience. I can’t decide if I respect Golden not doing the predictable thing or if I’m disappointed because I love those dramatic near-death scenes in romances. A little of both, probably.
Finally, a bit of general advice: Writers, don’t let your plots be propped up by misunderstandings, assumptions, and presumptions. Don’t keep your characters guessing at what the other is thinking and feeling, never working up the balls to ask. While it’ll go down in small doses, large doses will either make your characters appear stupid or weak or make your writing seem lazy. There needs to be more conflict than just uncertainty and insecurity, because those will get old fast.
Luckily, Golden didn’t overuse that kind of tension, though she came close. A little trepidation at first is understandably human, but it should have come to a point, especially for Liz, when they just quit dicking around and asked, “Hey, so is this going somewhere, or are we spinning our wheels? Cuz, dude, I’ve got better things to do than chase my tail.” Only they’d say it more eloquently, of course, and not mix metaphors. 😉
Thoughts on the characters
I had mixed feelings about the secondary characters. Drake seemed like an entitled ass, but I would be interested in digging deeper into his heart and mind. I’m curious to see if he really does have a heart of gold in there somewhere and if the selfish prick could give up his precious mistress and make an effort with Charlotte. In historicals, few things piss off my modern sensibilities more than mistresses, and it can’t be an uncommon sentiment, because very rarely does the hero of the novel have a current mistress—which makes me very intrigued by the fact that Drake is the hero of the next book in the series. He’ll have his work cut out for him in earning my affection, because right now I kind of despise him.
I feel a bit similarly about Charlotte; with the exception of the initial ball, she started off as shallow and naive and went downhill to snotty and haughty. I see little leading lady potential in her, but I’d love to be pleasantly surprised. I didn’t have much sympathy for the brat when she quickly became dissatisfied with her marriage. “Boo-hoo, I married a duke, whose station is second only to royalty. I got everything I could ever want, but that’s not enough. I want him to love my selfish entitled ass. Why doesn’t he like me? Waaaahhh.”
*deadpan stare*
Your bed, Charlotte. Lie in it or get off your hoity-toity ass and change the sheets yourself.
I thought Aunt Hazel and her matchmaking antics would annoy me, but she actually grew on me. She wasn’t looking for good matches for status and bragging rights—though those are great perks—but rather she just wanted security for the girls she loved like her own children. I also appreciated her sense of humor; I was particularly tickled when she was in the rose garden with Liz and Sebastian and cited this excuse to give them a little privacy: “I must go sniff the flowers [over there] because I’m sure those smell different from all the others.” *snorts*
Even Aunt Catherine, who was ostensibly portrayed as a cold, snotty bitch, had her redeeming qualities. While she was harsh and in most situations valued propriety over compassion, she didn’t condone abuse. She promised to help Liz—and presumably Charlotte?—leave their husbands if the girls were being abused. By the end I still didn’t like her, but I respected her.
As for the leads, they were good, strong characters, though they had their faults. Liz annoyed me a bit when she married Sebastian without knowing his secrets after declaring she wouldn’t marry anyone who held back from her, but I think I can understand that her judgment was skewed by her emotions. God knows it’s happened to me, too.
I had so much in common with her it was ridiculous; her thinking often ran parallel to mine, and our personalities matched in a lot of ways. I nodded in total understanding when she said that socializing exhausted her. Running away from the party and finding a quiet room in which to read in peace? Been there, done that.
She disappointed me just a little when she didn’t leave a note for Sebastian before she left. She had to have known he’d think she’d left him for good, and I’d like to think she’d try to disabuse him of that notion. All she’d have needed to say is, “I’ll be back soon,” maybe adding, “I promise,” to make it a little more romantic and less like she’d gone to run errands.
And did children really not occur to her? I mean… I just don’t understand how it could not have occurred to her. I mean, seriously. Come on, Liz, you’re smarter than that.
I related to Sebastian a lot as well. He wanted to tell Liz the truth, wanted to come clean, but he wanted her to like him, too. I’ve been caught in the middle of my own desires like that—and I’ve made the same compromise he intended to and just written a letter. Truth delivered without confrontation. Cowardly but well-intentioned.
Oh, how I wanted to hug him. Just hug him and rock until he knew how lovable he was. Except that’s more or less what Liz tried to do, and he just wouldn’t have it. Some readers might be irritated by his waffling—pushing her away, pulling her close, pushing her away, pulling her close—but it didn’t bother me. If it had happened one time more, though…
Some readers might also think the Sebastian we met in that library wasn’t the same Sebastian throughout the rest of the book, but I don’t. I can understand why those readers might feel that way, but I disagree. He just had a very bad attitude in that first scene; there was no hope in him at all. Then he met Liz, and in her he saw opportunities that he’d hardly dared to believe possible.
What I really, really, really appreciated was that Sebastian made the effort to find peace within himself, of his own volition, for not only Liz’s sake but for his own, for the sake of their future together. I totally expected him to continue thinking himself a monster until something happened to force him to think differently—either saving Liz from drowning or meeting Lilith. Instead, he told himself enough was enough and worked to heal himself. Because really, if he didn’t do that, if he didn’t change his own thinking, if circumstances had just given him an out, he would have always had that self-hatred lurking in the back of his mind, his heart. It would have haunted him, not knowing if he’d have been able to slay the dragon himself. I was so, so proud of him in that moment.
I also appreciated that he didn’t just make the offer of friendship to Liz because he lusted for her and being her “friend” was a gateway. No, he really did want to be her friend, even if they never touched. They had common interests and got along well, and he lusted after her mind as much as her body. He liked her personality, too—he simply liked her, and finding her sexy just sweetened the deal.
Another thing I admired about him—well, I think Liz did this too, so I’ll include her. What I really admired about them as characters was their ability to realize and admit their mistakes, even if only to themselves. For instance, in the days after Sebastian assumed Liz and Drake were just fucking with him, he slowly realized that the logic wasn’t there to support that accusation. Where some characters might have stubbornly clung to it nevertheless and held a pointless, immature grudge, or maybe wouldn’t even consider the possibility that they were wrong, these two were smart, mature, and humble enough to know when they’d made an error in judgment and to make an effort to atone for it. That was nice to see.
Golden’s got a long list of titles she plans to publish in the near future, several in the Enchantress series as well as another trilogy, it seems. The second Enchantress book, The Duke and the Enchantress, tells the story of Drake and Charlotte and should be released in March 2019. The short excerpt included with my ARC didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, but it did whet my appetite. I would be mighty impressed if Golden turned those two douches into sympathetic protagonists.
Oh, I should mention in case anybody’s wondering, there’s no magic. The heroines are not witches; that’s not the connotation she’s employing in the title.
