India Black (Carol K Carr)

Told through the no-nonsense and irreverent (almost anachronistic, though I'm no history expert) tone of its protagonist, India Black spins a tale of espionage and mystery set in Victorian England. The eponymous Miss Black runs Lotus House, a brothel that caters to gentlemen, mostly minor aristocracy, military officers, and high-ranking civil servants. Little does she know that the death of one of their regulars will embroil her in politics, state secrets, and matters of national security.

The key to enjoying this book is enjoying India's perspective. If you don't find yourself taking to her tone, then I'm afraid there will be little else to like about this one. It does not offer much in the puzzle solving area; the book is too straightforward to be classified as a true mystery. A good part of it merely follows India and fellow agent French as they trail behind the antagonists. Still, I enjoyed India and her interactions with French (no romantic overtones here yet, as a caveat to readers looking for some) that I bought the second book right away.

As a fan of historical mysteries, I've always read about how members of the ton would solve a few cases here and there, or capture the occasional spy. As a brothel madame and a former prostitute herself, India won't be seen in grand ballrooms or taking leisurely strolls with a chaperone. It was this markedly different perspective that encouraged me to give India Black a closer look. I found her an engaging figure. Her friends, especially Vincent, were equally interesting. There are plenty of moments here where I laughed out loud both because of India's wry observations or their occasionally comic, even bumbling, attempts to capture their quarry.

Where India Black was a spy thriller, India Black and the Widow of Windsor tries harder to introduce more mystery elements. Whether these attempts are successful is a matter of subjective opinion, but for the most part I was satisfied. That, and I was becoming more and more intrigued by India and French's back stories, which were both conspicuously absent in the first book.

Queen Victoria heads to Scotland for the holidays, but word has reached the Prime Minister's office that in Balmoral nests a plot to take her life. Prime Minister Disraeli dispatches India and French to go undercover and suss out the would-be assassins: French upstairs with the rest of the titled guests and India below stairs among the staff and help. Ms Carr steps up her game with Widow of Windsor. The seeds of romance have been sown. The mystery element, though not hard to figure out, is a welcome addition. Also included are brief hints into India's past as well as French's current situation. As a reader, I was appreciative of these gestures to enrich the series both plot-wise and character-wise.

I'm really looking forward to the rest of Ms Carr's books. Fans of Lauren Willig's Pink Carnation series or Deanna Raybourn's Lady Julia Grey series might enjoy picking up some India Black for an unapologetic protagonist and some memorable escapades.

The Mischief of the Mistletoe (Lauren Willig)

'In all the annals of romance, it was never the court jester who got the girl. It was always the knight in shining armor, dashing to the rescue in shining breastplate on a snowy white steed,' muses the hero in Lauren Willig's The Mischief of the Mistletoe. He has reason to -- he is more jester than knight, and it will definitely take more than his clashing clothes and social ineptitude to win the girl.

I've always enjoyed the Lauren Willig books for their mix of contemporary romance, historical romance and espionage. I guess after seven books, I've grown used to this mix. A friend pointed out that one of Ms Willig's plots was derivative of a Georgette Heyer title but that hasn't kept me from following her work. Fans of Ms Willig will note the absence of Eloise and Colin in this title but I didn't mind at all since there is still plenty to rave about here.

The Mischief of the Mistletoe is the fifth book in the Pink Carnation series, at least chronologically speaking (it was written after Books 6 and 7). It features Turnip Fitzhugh, a character who turns up in The Masque of the Black Tulip and is finally given a novel of his own. It is the holidays, and Turnip is visiting his sister at Miss Climpson's Select Seminary for Young Ladies, where he literally runs into Arabella Dempsey, the new instructress. In the rush of activity around the school, they come into possession of a Christmas pudding with a mysterious note. Their curiosity gets them embroiled not only in each others' lives, but also in a plot to save the nation's secrets from getting into the wrong hands.

In this book, Jane Austen waltzes in as Arabella's best friend. In fact, it is intimated here that Ms Austen's unfinished work The Watsons is inspired by Arabella's situation. She was expected to be adopted by a rich aunt, but when Aunt Osborne decides to marry someone half her age, Arabella is sent back home to the country. To augment her family's income, she takes a teaching job at Miss Climpson's, not knowing how this is about to change her life. I really enjoyed this device.

But what makes this a winner in my book is Turnip himself, certainly a different kind of romantic lead. He is far from the dark and brooding type, he dresses outlandishly, and he unintentionally creates humorous situations for himself. One of my favorite romance titles, Jude Deveraux's The Raider, features a similarly foppish character, but in that book, the colorful dandy is merely a front for the timeworn dark and brooding stereotype. But Turnip Fitzhugh is really cut from a different cloth. What you see is what you get: a genuinely endearing and guileless romantic lead. His manner of speaking is markedly different from other heroes in the Pink Carnation series. He is also a very learned man, but Ms Willig allows the readers to discover this for themselves, rather than have another character point out how clever he can be. I like that everyone else (except Arabella, of course) tends to dismiss him as a buffoon.

It's lovely to see a hero who can genuinely make a woman laugh and swoon. There were so many times that I smiled throughout the text. Not only did Turnip and Arabella get themselves into a lot of amusing situations, and bumbling through their encounters with French spies and their own feelings. Reading this was a heart-melting experience, not at all far from what I'd feel after seeing a cute dog. Very refreshing.

Arabella's wards at Miss Climpson's are also a delightful addition to the Pink Carnation family (and I do mean family -- a trio of friends here are the younger relatives of old Willig leads). I hope I'll see more from them in latter books, but since there are only two left, this wish might be a longshot.

The Lions of Al-Rassan (Guy Gavriel Kay)

Friends have always encouraged me to read Guy Gavriel Kay but somehow I haven't gotten around to following their advice until now. I have copies of The Lions of Al-Rassan and Tigana but I always thought that I would start with his latest book Under Heaven, a Tang-dynasty inspired piece. During my last trip to Manila, I couldn't find a handy version of the book so I turned to the ones that were already in my library. I'm glad I did. The Lions of Al-Rassan is one of the richest and most engaging things I have read so far this year.

Mr Kay is known for works set in imagined realms that are loosely based on real places at a particular moment in history. The Lions of Al-Rassan is set in an analogue of the Iberian Peninsula during the Reconquista, a campaign to take back territories from the Muslims. Though Al-Rassan's fictional war does not last hundreds of years as the Reconquista did, it still spans a generation. Armies move under the banner of religion but the war is largely a political one, a reclamation of power and territory and rightful claim. The Lions of Al-Rassan depicts the hardships and consequences of war, its risks and its sacrifices.

It is the story of three peoples: the Kindath, a dispossessed race who revere the twin moons, their lands invaded many generations ago and still ostracized despite their renown for skill and trade; the Asharites who worship the stars, divided into the decadent city-dwellers and the fierce nomadic tribes; and the Jaddites, followers of the sun, the former conquerors who have been embroiled by petty battles and disputes within their own kingdom before one of them decides to turn his gaze towards the entire peninsula.

This is a war told through different eyes. Not new, some might argue. But anyone new to Mr Kay would appreciate that each of his characters are effective and engaging narrators. At the forefront are two of the greatest military minds of their time: Ammar ibn Khairan, the poet-assassin who is responsible for killing the Kaliphs of Al-Rassan, and Rodrigo Belmonte, the fearsome Jaddite captain who commands 150 of the best and most loyal horsemen and warriors. Ammar and Rodrigo are very different in lifestyle, temperament, and beliefs but when they find themselves exiled from their respective kingdoms, they form an unlikely bond. They are well-matched in skill and firm in their principles, which fuels their mutual respect for one another. Caught between these two great men is Jehane, a Kindath physician and the only daughter of the most famous doctor in Al-Rassan.

There are also other characters whose perspectives give us more insight into the brewing war, and it speaks of Mr Kay's skill that even his minor characters are well-developed. You see the impact of war on an orphaned peasant boy, on an idealistic soldier, on a former merchant. You see the passions of a conquering king and a foreign adviser among men whose religion shuns his. You see two boys on the verge of growing up ahead of their time. But what's interesting to note is that although the war is purported to be a religious one and crimes are made in the name of gods, we hear little from the wadjis and clerics, the story's religious zealots and segregationists. They are often mentioned but are largely relegated to the background in an almost one-dimensional depiction. On one hand, it makes us dismiss the extremists' singular purpose as destructive, with few avenues for literary exploration and justification. On another, it may be that the relatively limited exposure of religious figures in this 'religious' war will draw us away from seeing faith as a truly dividing factor; it is how people act in the name of faith that is called into question here.

One of the most important themes of the book is of religious/cultural tolerance and understanding. Mr Kay likes putting his characters in situations where they would have depend on each other, defying the dictates of their cultures. Though I'm not a fan of how every other male in the book seems to fall in love with Jehane, I do recognize that she serves as a link between Rodrigo and Ammar, who symbolize the novel's opposing forces. She herself stands for the open-mindedness, steadfastness, and empathy needed in a world of fear and hate. It then becomes tragic to see how these different characters, who have come to earn each other's trust and respect, have to succumb to the call of war.

If you are looking for a moving epic, then I'd thoroughly recommend The Lions of Al-Rassan. It is epic and sweeping, but more importantly, it is contained in one book. (Fantasy writers, it can be done!) Despite the scope, it also has its moments of restraint and introspection. It digs deeper into the hopes and fears of its individual characters to form a truly rich, thoughtful, and rousing tapestry.

The Moon Looked Down (Dorothy Garlock)

I am currently in the middle of reading a number of fantasy works and I thought I'd take a break by picking up something lighter. The premise of Dorothy Garlock's The Moon Looked Down doesn't sound that it should qualify for light reading though. In this story set in World War II, Sophie Heller and her family are struggling with anti-German threats and prejudices. But because her father does not want to report it to the authorities, Sophie feels trapped, and looks to her new friend Cole Ambrose for support. Okay, I must admit that it was mainly because Cole was a teacher that I was encouraged to pick up this romance, and I knew that despite the heavy topic, it might be the distraction I needed.

It distracted me enough for an hour or so. The Moon Looked Down was a very quick read mostly because I didn't feel that the author explored what could be very powerful themes quite as thoroughly as I had expected. The prejudice comes from two scum-of-the-earth type villains, even though the rest of their town Victory (told you it had a WWII setting) loves the Hellers and would defend them when push came to shove. This made me seriously question Hermann Heller's decision not to report the attack made on his family to the police. Sophie quickly and correctly identifies the villains, so the pervading anti-German sentiment that could have been handled in a realistic manner and be very debilitating for Sophie's family appeared to me as a weak caricature. Also, Sophie goes along with her father's wishes not to go to the authorities when their barn is burned down but in just a few chapters, she publicly confronts their attackers. Way to call attention to the matter, Sophie. It was a wonder how anyone didn't manage to suss out what had happened, especially since they live in a small town.

Ms Garlock also had an unfortunate way of letting her characters recount the same mundane things that happened to another character. Sophie going to the Ambrose hardware store is seen through her perspective and Mr Ambrose's; her ordering a meal from Marge's Diner is mentioned first from Cole's point of view and then her own. I found that the prose suffered greatly because of this, stumbling over such simple things like a bootlegged CD.

If there was anything that completely saved the experience for me, it was how Ms Garlock infused the novel with World War II elements. The language and terms used, as well as different visual elements, convincingly transported me to the proper time and setting. While it wasn't quite enough to augment the paper-thin characters, it created a solid world in which they could interact. I also cautiously liked Cole's clubfooted predicament because it painted a different kind of romantic lead, but even then I felt that any characterization only scratched the surface. If you don't mind Hallmark Channel TV movies and are looking for a distraction (as I was), then The Moon Looked Down will serve its purpose.

My Name is Memory (Anne Brashares)

I'm not quite sure what I expected from Anne Brashares' My Name is Memory. The story's premise is somewhat akin to The Time-Traveller's Wife which moved me, and knowing that this was geared towards more adult readers, I approached it with a determination to like it. Unfortunately, I was a bit disappointed.

Daniel and Sophia are old souls that keep on coming back after every death. Daniel's memory is special: he remembers every lifetime he has ever lived and recognizes those he has come across. It is both a blessing and a curse. In his very first life in Africa, he had watched a woman die as he burned her house down. Unable to forget her, he continues to be drawn to her soul in every lifetime thereafter. Unfortunately for Daniel, Sophia's memory is wiped clean every time. Now, in modern-day America, she is known as Lucy, and in this rare moment that they are within each other's reach, Daniel is determined to make her remember.

I appreciated how the story is very introspective and Daniel, the main character, tends to wax philosophical, giving it a different approach to the many paranormal romances on the shelves these days. But this also means that it took quite long to unfold, and this was one of my first sources of confusion: I wasn't sure if the lovers were going to meet any time to soon to face their conflicts together or if it was going the Sleepless in Seattle route. That isn't to say that Daniel and Sophia didn't meet at all in between their first lives and now; in fact, they meet countless times. They would be strangers, sometimes related by marriage. Sometimes, one of them would be a child. There are moments in their strange lives that paint touching images but I strongly believe that it is only when Daniel meets Constance during the First World War that their love is truly justified. Everything else is mere commentary. The only other time I felt such strong emotion in this text was when Daniel visits one of his graves and finally recognizes how much he had loved his mother then.

One of the conflicts that the lovers face is Daniel's brother Joaquim, another old soul who is driven by vengeance. There was so much foreshadowing about Joaquim's abilities and his mysterious friend that I expected some revelation, some measure of triumph over him, but I was left with no closure. I didn't think the climax was as strong as it could have been and the denouement was even weaker. I would be very happy to know that there will be a sequel because then readers who have already invested their time into this text shouldn't feel as abandoned as I was towards the end. I feel that the choices Daniel makes at the end are contrary to what the book has been exhorting all along: to let go of the past, to realize that there is no shame in regret, and to learn to live for the present. I think that there is a still a healthy part of the teen audience that will gravitate towards a romance like this, but I hope that Ms Brashares will deliver a love story with more robust characters and a more thought-out plot in the future.

Dark Road to Darjeeling (Deanna Raybourn)

One of my favorite fictional Victorian pairs is that of the mystery-solving duo of Lady Julia Grey and Nicholas Brisbane. I have loyally followed them from Silent in the Grave to their most recent adventure in a lush yet remote region in India via Dark Road to Darjeeling. While I thoroughly enjoyed the first two books of Ms Raybourn's Julia Grey novels, I was a bit disappointed with the third one and a taste of another (non-series) book wasn't too my liking. I suppose these had led me to approach Dark Road to Darjeeling with some trepidation.

Ms Raybourn soon put all my fears to rest. I think that she was back in top form while writing this mystery. Julia and Nicholas, accompanied by her siblings Portia and Plum, travel to Sikkim to help Portia's former lover Jane find the truth behind her husband Freddie Cavendish's untimely death. The isolated region in the eastern Himalayas where Jane now lives (called the Valley of Eden) straddles Sikkim and Nepal, and Julia soon finds out that it takes a certain sort of madness to live in such a place, especially when she digs deeper into the secrets of the individuals and families there. I felt that this particularly rich setting added to the mood, because the assembly of likely culprits wouldn't have seemed so mysterious had the story been situated in an English countryside.

This rather unique setting also encourages Julia to be a little bolder in her investigations. I've always liked how Julia Grey is (outwardly) a proper Victorian woman but because of her rather unorthodox upbringing is also quite adventurous and forward-thinking. In Dark Road to Darjeeling, Julia and Nicholas are entering a new phase of their relationship and their dynamic is somewhat different. But circumstances finally push Julia to reassess her role in the relationship, and I applaud how it was approached here.

Another thing that I've always enjoyed about Ms Raybourn's work is how she adeptly weaves some family drama or personal conflict into every mystery. What's worth nothing here is that as Ms Raybourn gives us a glimpse into the sickness and depravity of the human mind, she also manages to tug at our heartstrings by adding elements to help us understand the different family relationships of those involved. There are recurring characters here that may throw off new readers, but their background is adequately explained. The impact of their involvement in this story may be somewhat diminished for new readers but I hope that this does not dampen anyone's reading experience.

NOTE: This review is done in response to the Whodunit Reading Challenge hosted by Mary, Myra, and Fats at Gathering Books.

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Reading this has made me quite interested in Sikkim (it's been a dream of mine for quite some time now to visit the country of Bhutan, and finding out how close it is to this Indian state has further intrigued me). It became a state of India in 1975 and to this day is recognized as one of the country's least populous states. Despite this, it is still home to a variety of races, cultures, and languages. To know more about Sikkim, visit their state's Information and PR Department.

Desperate Duchesses series (Eloisa James)

Stuck in Manila for a week more and with most of my friends at work, I turned to Eloisa James' Desperate Duchesses series loaned to me by my best friend. I finished this six-book series in three days (the first three on the first day) so I guess you could call me a 'desperate reader' at that time!

Set in the Georgian period, the series revolves around a group of young duchesses and their many romantic/marital woes. On the surface, there is not much here to distinguish it from the rest of the bodice-rippers in the market. The women are often adventurous beauties, the men are often cold rakehells, the consummation is always the stuff of legend. Although Ms James' books are stand-alones, they are still better enjoyed when read in the proper order. But tying them together, in a device I've rarely seen employed in a historical romance series, is a long drawn out chess match between the Duchess and Duke of Beaumont and the Duke of Villiers. Some of the characters' stories (especially that of the Beaumonts) are shared with us in bits and pieces before an entire book is dedicated to them (This Duchess of Mine).

It might be a stretch to imagine four, young, and extremely beautiful duchesses who happen to be friends and are unhappy with their current romantic lot (Ms James takes her cue from Desperate Housewives), but there is still much to enjoy in this series. It's a great guilty pleasure read, with its crop of intriguing characters, the genuine friendship between the duchesses, and the marital chess match. What I also admire about Ms James' heroines is that they actually do have other interests aside from fashion, gossip, and men: Jemma, Duchess of Beaumont, loves chess; Poppy, Duchess of Fletcher, is a budding naturalist; Henrietta, Duchess of Berrow, sits as a de facto judge at their local court. I find that these add a rather nice dimension to what would normally be a paper-thin character. These make me see these women as believably intelligent, instead of having to merely read them described as such. I certainly didn't feel that those afternoons curled up in bed and reading these wildly romantic romps were quite a waste.

The Desperate Duchesses series, in order:
Desperate Duchesses
An Affair Before Christmas
Duchess by Night
When the Duke Returns
This Duchess of Mine
A Duke of My Own

The Laughter of Dead Kings (Elizabeth Peters)

With all the negative connotations that come with being stereotypically tall, buxom, blue-eyed and blonde, it's a wonder that Elizabeth Peters can still turn her Dr. Vicky Bliss into a charming character. I guess it's the reason why I've been patiently following her Vicky Bliss series for years now. Vicky is smart and self-deprecating (her biggest gripe is that no one takes her seriously, looking like she does), practical yet given to fits of emotion, and generally the kind of person I'd want with me on an adventure. She's an American working for the National Museum in Munich and her specialization in medieval art often finds her poking her nose into some art forgery investigation or a smuggling ring. The series began in the seventies, with Borrower of the Night and the most recent title, The Laughter of Dead Kings, was published more than twenty years after.

Dead Kings rounds up familiar faces: Vicky's lover, the now-reformed art thief John Smythe/Tregarth, and her boss Anton Schmidt. This time, the mummy of King Tut has been stolen and being held for ransom, and John is everyone's prime suspect. When the couple's friend Faisal asks for help in finding the missing mummy, Vicky and John can't resist, especially since they get to clear John's name while doing it. For the first time since reading the series, I became very aware of the time period. Most of the Vicky Bliss books have been set (at least in my mind) during some generic, almost indistinguishable, time frame. This really helped me to view the work as timeless instead of dated. In Vicky's latest adventure though, modern technology has come into play. It's not exactly unwelcome especially since it would have been difficult for the characters to communicate in a contemporary setting without a mobile phone, but it did make me realize that Vicky Bliss is changing with the times.

The mystery in The Laughter of Dead Kings was a bit predictable, but I don't know if it was because I've been so accustomed to Ms Peters' writing that it was easy for me to put two and two together. There was a dearth of suspects for me so there were no surprises for me at the end. But despite that, I still greatly enjoyed reading about Vicky and her friends. They're part of my literary family, characters I've grown so used to and have loved and admired all these years. The Laughter of Dead Kings may not be for readers who are unfamiliar with Vicky Bliss, but longtime fans will find that there is still a lot to be enjoyed in this installment.

World Without End (Ken Follet)

To say that I found Ken Follet's World Without End rather disappointing would be an understatement. As someone who was really hooked on his Pillars of the Earth, chronicling the lives and the legacy of medieval lovers Jack and Aliena, I was really looking forward to reading World Without End because it was about their descendants and set in a similar tone, a familiar world.

Too similar and too familiar, I soon found out.

World starts as four young children witness a knight with a secret kill the men who are running after him. The children are from different worlds, unaware how the events of that day would have far-reaching effects that would shape who they would become. On paper, it sounds different from Pillars but somehow, this still echoes the previous work in characterization and plot so much that it feels like a mere rehash, and even then, falls short of its predecessor.

The characters seemed shopworn to me. They have no moral ambiguity that would have helped create tension or generate more sympathy: good characters are 'good,' bad characters are inexplicable driven by narrow-minded malice and evil. Merthin is the talented descendant of Jack Builder, so anything he touches turns to gold. He even survives the Black Plague in Italy, where he has established his fortune after years of struggling as an unrecognized builder in Kingsbridge. Stepping into Aliena's shoes is Caris, the intelligent daughter of a wealthy merchant and the love of Merthin's life. Like Merthin, Caris is written as if she has a halo around her head. Of course you know she is going to triumph against all adversity. There is no thrill here that suggests otherwise. Against these two would parade all sorts of envious, greedy characters, all cut from the same cloth, none coming remotely close to any sense or reason.

The only characters whom I thought might still surprise me were Gwenda, a thief's daughter and Caris' friend, and Thomas, the mysterious knight, but instead they are given such paper-thin existences. Gwenda, shrewd and capable but still of largely uninformed peasant stock, does an inexplicable job of sounding like a lawyer in one of the confrontations in this book. Sir Thomas is all but forgotten towards the end. There were so many times that I wanted to put this book down but I felt the need to finish it because I felt as if I owed it to the Mr Follet who wrote Pillars of the Earth.

I could go on and on about the things that I did not appreciate in this voluminous story (I haven't even started on the logical lapses in the plot) but I know I have to stop at some point. I still think Mr Follet is talented enough in bringing out the rich, even minute, details of medieval life and anyone interested in that might be persuaded to give this a try. I urge you to check out reviews from other readers, because I think this averages four stars on Amazon and GoodReads. But in the end, World Without End is not for everyone, and it was certainly not for me.

The Secret History of the Pink Carnation (Lauren Willig)

Procrastination, thy name is Chris. I had finished Lauren Willig's The History of the Pink Carnation and The Masque of the Black Tulip in less than a day since I borrowed them from Oz a few weeks back, but I was too preoccupied with other matters (like the naming of dogs and the purchasing of blue hair dye) to write. I suppose some books can wait to be reviewed. But here, my first historical romance review. Reviews, I mean.

I started out with Ms. Willig's Pink Carnation only because it's logical to begin with the first book in any trilogy, even if it was the plot of the second book that I liked better. Still, first things first. Meg Cabot calls the book a "genre-bending read" since it has two love stories in one. Not quite genre-bending in my book (nor highly original: think Possession, The Conjurer's Bird or, if you want to stick to the historical romance genre, Remembrance), but still very much worth the read if you like this sort of thing. And I do. So, yay.

Pink Carnation introduces us to Eloise Kelly, who is England to finish her dissertation on aristocratic espionage. Research, research, meets descendant of one of her topics, earns access to private journals, meets dashing but snooty grandson, sparks. Anyway, she learns about the identity of the Pink Carnation via the letters of Amy Balcourt, who wants to join the league of aristocratic spies (not because it was fashionable at that time). Amy meets the dashing Purple Gentian, meets his alter-ego Lord Richard Selwick, sparks. Also, they foil Napoleon's plans to invade England. See, I have no qualms of spoiling it all this way because we all know how these things end anyway. But more importantly, the book also introduces us to Richard's sister Henrietta, and his best friend Miles Dorrington.

Which brings us to Ms. Willig's Black Tulip. I liked Pink Carnation fair enough, but it wasn't outstandingly memorable. I must confess that I read the genre for the romance, not for its historical accuracy, so I do look for something unique about the main pair. In Pink Carnation's case, I was unforgivingly comparing it to Jude Deveraux's The Raider, whose characters, I thought, had more charm and appeal.

But Black Tulip is one of the very few romance novels I've ever read that featured a pair who were actually friends--and that in itself is memorable. It convincingly chronicles how Henrietta and Miles grow from childhood friends to lovers amidst the spying and the double-dealing going on. They argue, they get jealous, they kiss, they get confused. Wonderful pair, rerally. True, Pink Carnation had more of the spy stuff, but inevitably, it was towards Miles and Hen's tandem that I gravitated. My only (tiny) complaint about Black Tulip was that it had more of Eloise and Colin (the said dashing yet snooty grandson, who by this time isn't at all snooty, but of course we knew that). I guess I just wanted more Miles and Hen.

Despite my complaints, Ms. Willig writes fine historical romances. She shies away from the simpering female stereotype so common in this genre and manages to create situations where you don't question why her heroines don't always follow what society expects of them. And when it comes to historical accuracy, I don't think I'll be second-guessing Ms. Willig, who is a candidate for a PhD in history at Harvard. I could, you know, read up on this interesting period, but like i said: procrastination.