Liz Carlyle’s 2008 release Never Deceive a Duke, leaves me with the same conundrum as Wicked All Day did: I can’t figure out what the title has to do with anything. Yes, there is a duke, but who’s doing the deceiving? Not that I’m necessarily in favor of titles that tell you exactly what’s going on. If it were a standard Harlequin category romance, it would probably be called The Jewish Duke’s Widowed Secret Lover or something.

Yes, you read that right: Gabriel Gareth Lloyd, the hero of a historical romance, is Jewish. For that alone, I picked up the book, because there is a dearth of historical romance featuring anybody but your standard Christian rakes (and the half-Indian, half-Gypsy “exotic” rakes, of course). The story didn’t disappoint at all…even if the set-up reminded me a little of Carlyle’s A Woman Scorned.

Gareth Lloyd has worked with Neville Shipping for years, shutting his dark past away, but then his cousin, the Duke of Warneham, dies under suspicious circumstances. With four wives under the duke’s belt and no children, the only person left to inherit the title and the estates is Gareth. When he begrudgingly takes on the responsibility, he meets the duchess Antonia, a fragile 26-year-old, whom everyone suspects may have killed her much older husband.

Never Deceive a Duke is about reckoning with grief, about reconciling one’s past, and having the courage to move on. And Gareth’s Jewish heritage — his father was disowned for marrying Ruth and after their deaths, Gareth was raised by her parents — is a key part of that theme. I loved when he explained the concept of shiva to Antonia, assuring her that there is no shame in giving mourning its due. Despite being brought up by the Gottfrieds, at least until terrible tragedies struck and changed his life forever, Gareth is more or less raised Christian. Or at least secular. Which makes sense, given the era. His mother wanted him to be able to conform to his father’s world. But as Gareth tells Antonia, in his heart he’s absolutely Jewish. And the reader gets glimpses of that in the form of flashbacks to a wee Gabriel with his “Bubbe” and “Zayde.”

It’s a great concept, and a wonderful way to diversify the romantic historical canvas. Speaking of diversification, there is also the inclusion of Carlyle’s recurring character, George Kemble. International man of mystery, interior decorator, valet…is there anything he can’t do? A particular scene between Gareth, Kemble and Rothewell (the hero of Never Romance a Rake) had me laughing out loud on the subway. Kemble’s sexuality is not explicitly stated in this book, but he’s definitely gay (which I confirmed upon reading an earlier Carlyle work, The Devil To Pay). And I appreciated that Carlyle draws no link between that and some of the horrors* Gareth experienced as a youth. Too many romance authors use homosexuality as a villainous device that goes hand-in-hand with child abuse. It’s despicable and irresponsible.

Carlyle’s Never Deceive a Duke is anything but that. And with both Gareth and Kemble, she reboots the idea of what a romance novel hero “should be.” Here’s hoping more authors follow her lead. 

*Just a warning that, yes, this book does discuss issues of rape in pretty stark terms, so steer clear if you’re triggered by such things.

Sometimes, when a book or a move are overhyped, I brace for impact, expecting my experience with it to be a letdown. Thankfully, this was not the case with Melina Marchetta’s critically acclaimed Jellicoe Road, which was released in 2006 in Australia and then in 2008 here in the States —interestingly enough, the Australian release is called On The Jellicoe Road, and I have no idea why they dropped the preposition. The book is at points both stark and dream-like, and Marchetta does a wonderful job of balancing wistful, almost ethereal, instances of then with sturdier, wry instances of now. And she also pulls no punches with the issues of violence, death and abuse.

Taylor Markham has lived at the Jellicoe School ever since her junkie mother dumped her off at a 7/11 and left her to be cared for by the mysterious Hannah, who has a house near the school’s property. Every year, the kids from the Jellicoe School fight a war for territory with the Townies and the Cadets who camp nearby for a term. When it comes Taylor’s turn to lead, stories that hold the key to her past follow. Tough to the point of almost reveling in her solitude, Taylor’s journey on the Jellicoe Road opens her up to surprising friendships, a romance and learning what family means to her.

It’s hard to talk about the book without giving too much away, because part of the joy of reading it was making each connection and having an “ah-ha!” moment. And I want to go back and reread it over and over to catch the things I didn’t grab the first time around. In fact, while reading I kept flipping back to check things. It’s a book that made me laugh, that made my throat tighten up, and also really engaged my brain. 

This copy has to go back to the library, but I’m definitely buying my own as soon as possible, so that I may travel down the Jellicoe Road with Marchetta’s memorable characters and engaging story over and over again.

Love You Hate You Miss You – This stark, first person POV novel about Amy, a problem drinker, is more on Elizabeth’s Scott “rip out your spleen” side of the spectrum than her lighter funny, charming, coming of age tales. The reader meets Amy as she finishes a stint in rehab, still reeling from the drunk driving crash that killed her best friend, the impulsive, wild and wonderful Julia. Throughout the course of the novel, I found myself wondering  if Amy was a reliable narrator, if the Julia she saw was the Julia who really existed, and whether her downward spiral was actually enabled by this friend who seemed so much more alive than she is. I tend to think those are questions that Scott puts out there on purpose, and that the emotional journey we see Amy take is about answering them. Like many of Scott’s other books, Amy’s parents’ absenteeism is a huge element, but unlike her other books, it’s something faced head on, and we see the parents actually trying to change…and also showing us that how Amy views them may not be correct. In fact, there’s a key conversation they have with Amy near the end that made me cry. This 2009 release is painful and human and a wonderful read.

A Woman Scorned – I picked up Liz Carlyle’s 2000 novel A Woman Scorned because it’s one of the precursors to this year’s release, Wicked All Day. I so enjoyed Jonet and Cole as Stuart and Robin’s parents that I wanted to see how they met and fell in love. A Woman Scorned did not disappoint! When former soldier and divinity scholar Cole Amherst is dispatched by a suspicious relative to tutor Lady Jonet Rowland’s children, it’s hate at first sight! Though an attraction is immediate as well, newly widowed Jonet doesn’t trust a soul and Cole is put off by her sharp tongue and dismissive manner. A Woman Scorned follows them as they learn to live with each other, trust one another, and discover who killed Jonet’s husband and why. Jonet is every inch her own woman and as their relationship progresses, Cole makes noises to the effect of wanting to tame her and curb her willfullness, but you get the sense as a reader that it’s definitely Jonet who has the upper hand, all the way to the end.

Fragile Eternity - I was looking forward to Melissa Marr’s third young adult novel meshing the world of faerie with that of mortal teenagers, but after finishing what is clearly the lead-in for a fourth novel, I’ve reached the end of the line. It’s my stop, time to get off. Urban fantasy is a hard sell for me in general, so it takes a deft hand and a unique voice to really make me give a book a shot. And Marr still has those things, but in Fragile Eternity her beautiful prose and compelling characters get lost in a whirlwind of faerie politics. And I’m sorry, but you start talking about this court and that court and rattling off the names of a dozen new faeries and I’m done for. I don’t want to have to create a flow chart to get through a book. Also, in Wicked Lovely and Ink Exchange, I loved seeing the struggle of human vs. faerie. In Fragile Eternity, humanity is an afterthought. Something to be noted when Aislinn mentions her gram or going to school (in passing; the Summer Queen seldom attends classes). It’s all faeries and wars and inter-court bickering and a “my soulmate is gone so I’m going to turn to the next best thing” story that I already watched play out with As the World Turns‘ Lily, Holden and Damian.

Something, Maybe and Stealing Heaven – Elizabeth Scott is a go-to read, a comfort read. Much like Sarah Dessen before her, you know Scott will deliver a funny, heartfelt tale about a young woman trying to find her way. The problem with reading these two books of hers in a row is that a formula emerged: irresponsible mother, absent father, snarky banter with the boy. I was trying to recall if her debut, Bloom, had a similar theme and then was horrified to realize I couldn’t remember anything beyond the title. I liked all three books, as well as Perfect You, but I don’t think I could rattle off the characters’ names without help. Whereas Living Dead Girl, that’s a book by Scott I’ll never forget. I tore through Something, Maybe and Stealing Heaven and was engaged while I was in them…but it’s like some of Scott’s novels are “a pleasant few hours’ diversion” and then you’ve got “rip out your spleen and hand it to you.” 

I’m still reading the newly released anthology The Heart of Christmas, featuring novellas by Mary Balogh, Nicola Cornick and Courtney Milan. I’m having a tough time getting through Cornick’s piece, which feels like a standard rake/ingenue tale that happens to be set in cold weather. On the heels of Balogh’s “A Handful of Gold,” which was very sweet but featured a ludicrous instance of info dump within dialogue, I’m definitely dragging my feet. (It was Verity’s mother, outlining their finances and family connections. Who says things like, “The Reverend Ewing, your papa…?”) It’s ironic that Milan, the new kid on the block whose full-length debut isn’t even hitting shelves until early next year, has the most effective work in the anthology. “This Wicked Gift” stands apart because it’s not about the ton. Lavinia works in her family lending library, William White is a down-on-his-luck clerk and how they come to be together is really unique. Milan takes risks with the characters, with the set-up, and ends up delivering readers the true gift.

With the third novel in her debut trilogy, Tessa Dare effectively wins the triple crown, hits a grand slam, insert any other metaphor related to the number three here, etc. A Lady of Persuasion, much like Goddess of the Hunt and Surrender of a Siren before it, proves to be a truly enjoyable reading experience and a book that revitalizes and reconfigures the romantic historical genre.

I admit I had reservations going in, not having formed much of an opinion of Toby Aldridge and Isabel Grayson from their previous appearances in Dare’s work. Toby felt like a standard not-the-hero kind of guy and Isabel, in her brief appearance in Surrender of a Siren, seemed a staid reformer. But I forgot that, in essence, I was seeing Toby and Isabel through the eyes of others. If Toby was such a catch to Lucy or Sophia, where would their stories with Jeremy and Gray have been, right? Of course you never get a full picture of who a character is until it’s their perspective you’re looking through! And the story that Dare built around Toby and Bel was perfect. It fleshed them out, made them rich, beautiful characters, and delivered a wonderful payoff. (Let’s just say that a key scene towards the end had me laughing my ass off in a pub as I sipped a dwindling glass of pinot grigio.)

Dare again takes the conventions of your standard romance — a sudden proposal, an impulsive marriage between veritable strangers — and turns them on their ear. Toby and Isabel bloom under her careful hand, emerging as a man and woman trying to reconcile who they truly are with the expectations of who they ought to be.

Isabel, a twenty year old naif from Tortola, is so desperate to quell the passionate side of her nature, that she throws all that passion into good works and charitable causes. And Toby, still bruised from Sophia jilting him, sees in Isabel a chance to get back at Bel’s brother Gray, who he thinks “stole” Sophia from him. Only…not really. Quickly enough the reader gleans that Toby is just a man who wants to love and be loved, and this remarkable, unique beauty sets them both on a course to realizing what they truly want out of life.

I laughed with them, I choked up at the appropriate moments (Chapter Twenty-One, oh my goodness), and reveled in the inclusion of Lucy and Jem, Sophia and Gray, and the secondary story of Joss and Hetta trying to shed their protective layers and find love. Dare built a family, a community, in these books, and the camaraderie and banter and essence of these characters shines through. They’re genuinely funny, human and flawed, and incredibly memorable.

And, seriously, Dare needs to release Memoirs of a Wanton Dairymaid, which plays a key role in all three of her novels, as its own erotic novella. Because That Book must be a doozy!

Wicked For a Day, by Liz Carlyle, like so many great romance novels that have come before it, suffers from Stupid Title-itis. It honestly gives the reader no idea as to what’s in the book, just feels slapped on, along with the obligatory clinch cover. I don’t know if Carlyle came up with it herself (If so, sorry! But I do feel your pain, as I hate coming up with titles and headlines) or if it was bestowed upon the book by the publisher. Either way, it’s too trite for a book this good.

Just a few pages in, I quickly realized that Wicked For a Day was part of an expanded universe. The family connections were incredibly detailed, with a genuine sense that the reader should know these people. But in a really believable way — a way that made me want to read the prior books. I think that’s the advantage of writing historicals and Regencies. Dealing with the London ton, you can build an entire social order and then continue to reference the same people as time goes by. It’s not like Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ What I Did For Love, where the author flew her heroine some BFFs from clear across the country just to give her character some weight. The inclusion of Jonet and Cole from A Woman Scorned and Rannoch and Evie from My False Heart, doesn’t take the place of giving Zoe and Mercer their own distinct personalities and their own richly crafted story.

And it’s definitely Zoe and Mercer’s story. Zoe Armstrong, the illegitimate and incredibly indulged daughter of the Marquis of Rannoch, has grown up with distant cousins Stuart, Lord Mercer, and his rakish brother Robin. Robin’s her best friend and serious Stuart is the one who is forever getting them out of their scrapes. However, when an ill-advised romp with Robin threatens to ruin Zoe’s reputation, it’s one scrape that Stuart may not be able to solve without his own heart becoming a casualty in the process. All three characters are finely drawn, and painfully human, and while the reader will probably want to spend the bulk of the book throwing something at Robin’s head, that Mercer and Zoe both love him and want the best for him —all the while realizing that they love each other — is a key element of the novel.

It’s an enjoyable read, with a beautifully crafted story and an entire cast of characters who feel authentic. Not for nothing, but Mercer and Robin’s mother, Jonet, is probably the savviest character in the whole piece. If she existed today, she’d probably have a Zoe/Mercer fan message board up and running and be sponsoring a fan fiction contest…while Zoe and Mercer themselves were still figuring out how to boot up the computer. Watching her watch her sons and Zoe figure out their lives is half the fun of Wicked For a Day. The other half is Zoe and Mercer themselves.