You Had Me at Hola

by: Alexis Daria

The title of this book caught my eye in Target, and then the blurb reminded me a lot of “Jane the Virgen,” which I love. I ended up buying it without even reading the first few pages, which is something that I almost never do, but I really wanted something cute and light and this seemed perfect.

In YHMAH, Jasmine, a native New Yorker who is Puerto Rican/Filipino and a soap opera star, is offered the chance to star in an American remake of a telenovela, called “Carmen in Charge.” Due to a last minute in injury, Ashton, a native Puerto Rican telenovela star, is brought in to play the male lead on the show. There are sparks on-screen and off between the couple, but their rising fame complicates everything. It’s written in third person and alternates point of view between Jasmine and Aston.

Daria’s writing style is a little choppier and to-the-point than I would prefer, but the writing is pretty decent overall. The characters were fun and engaging, and for the first few chapters, I thought this was just going to be exactly what I expected it to be – light, cute, contemporary romance. Bonus that it had a fair amount of Spanish thrown in – pretty much everything is translated in-text, which you may find helpful if you don’t speak any Spanish or a little annoying, if you do understand Spanish. But Daria tried to insert the translations as smoothly as possible, which significantly minimizes the intrusiveness of it.

Based on the first few chapters, I didn’t think I would have much to say about this book, but as I read on, I found several things that really impressed me. The first was that Daria actually wrote out several scenes from the show, with the main characters “in character” as the people they were playing. This may sound really weird, but it gave me a whole new perspective on how actors approach their craft; seeing the ways different motivations and feelings were specifically attributed both to actions and how they interpreted the script through a written scene gave me a lot more appreciation for the complexities of playing a character well. I really loved that; I’ve read (romance) novels about actors before, but this was a completely different take. However, it did take away from time spent with the two main characters as themselves, which made the timeline of the novel feel shorter than it actually was – I didn’t mind this at all, but it’s worth noting.

Secondly, Daria did a great job with bringing in a diversity of characters. There was a very minor genderqueer character who was wearing a “they/them” pin included in their initial description, along with their hair color and outfit. This was a very nice, extremely low-key way to signal that a singular they was about to be in use – I’ve gotten confused before when they/them pronouns are used with no introduction in writing, even though I figure it out very quickly in conversations. It was treated as a perfectly normal, almost mundane part of the character description – I thought it worked better than most other approaches I’ve seen for genderqueer side characters, where it generally ends up being a crash course in they/them pronouns or I end up confused until I figure out it’s a singular they in use.

Obviously, Latinx identity and culture, specifically Puerto Rican culture, was an important component of the book. I was most excited, however, when Daria specifically pointed out that Lucy, a secondary character, had deep roots in the USA because she was from an Mexican-American Arizona community that had existed for generations. I’ve been struggling to find media or literature centered around Latinx experiences outside of the immigrant/first or second generation ones, and I very much appreciated the acknowledgement in this book. (and if you know of any books that would fit the bill, please let me know in the comments!)

Finally, and perhaps my absolute favorite thing about this book, let’s talk about the sex scenes in this book. YHMAH was amazingly sex-positive in a way that books, even romance novels, usually aren’t – not kinky, but just framing normal sex things in a way that made them feel positive and sexy. First of all, Jasmine asks for lube in every sexual encounter, which I have never seen in a romance novel before, and it’s given a positive framing – she likes it, so it makes the sex better. Then, in their first sexual encounter, Ashton asks to not have penetrative sex, to which Jasmine says of course. But later, when she’s thinking about it, it’s not a big deal or a concern or some kind of weird insight into his psyche; she merely thinks he may have an STD he’s not ready to disclose yet or he wasn’t comfortable with moving that fast, and figures they’ll have a conversation about it later. I loved that. It was so accepting of normal sexual things that are nonetheless often stigmatized. Ashton also gets excited when he sees her vibrators, in a oooh those are sexy way. My absolutely favorite line came during an argument about trust and honesty, when Jasmine says, “I also think that someone who is allowing you to enter their body deserves a modicum of trust and respect as well.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a book that normalized these aspects of sex before, especially not in a “this is sexy and romantic” framing. For me, it added to the escapism of romances – these everyday sex acts, which we tend to stigmatize, were imbued with that romance magic and treated as fun and sexy, instead of major hurdles the couple needs to overcome. And that line of Jasmine’s I quoted above – it directly strikes at the heart of why sex, or at least any form of penetrative sex, feels so intimate, whether it’s a causal, no-strings-attached encounter, or between married couple celebrating their fiftieth anniversary. And that the act is tied here to respect and trust, not love or romantic feelings, that it’s the trust and the privilege of having someone grant you access to them that needs to be respected and reciprocated, rather than tying it to a specific emotional state, is something I think Daria captured so well in that quote.

All of this happened without ever losing the charming romantic touch that I very much wanted out of this book. I adored it, and if you like contemporary romances, you should definitely give this one a read. Daria’s not a flowery, flowy writer, so if you absolutely need that in your romance, then alas, this may not been the book for you – but maybe give it a chance anyways.

The Rules of Enchantment

by: Wendy Tardieu

A while ago, TCK Publishing reached out to me and offered to send me a book to review, which I happily accepted. When the book arrived with “erotic fantasy adventure” on the front of it, I was a little bit worried about what I’d gotten myself into! But it actually turned out this is was a mix of romance and fantasy, and not, as I worried, an erotica novel that made liberal use of fantasy elements.

In The Rules of Enchantment, Kyler, a young scribe who failed her magical studies and became a historian, is sent to apprentice with Leith, an exiled sorcerer living in a dark forest. The powers that be – Headmaster Wickham (A+ secondary character!) – suspects Leith of plotting to overthrow the Academy, this world’s regulatory body of magic, and sends Kyler there in hopes she will uncover his plot and report back. Kyler and Leith end up having an unexpected connection, which makes both of them rethink their worldviews as Leith’s plans are coming closer and closer to fruition.

Style-wise, it’s odd mix of a book. It’s a romance set in a fantasy world and the writing felt very literary – more what I would expect from a highbrow short story writer than from either of the two genres. I get the feeling that Tardieu was following the advice to write the book you want to read but can’t find – and this blend of genres and styles ended up working out quite well! The writing itself was really well-done; it had that “every word is carefully considered” feel of a short story, which I think leant itself to a very strong sense of place.

That sense of place was by far my favorite thing about the book – both the worldbuilding and the actual scenery were really well done, and I felt entirely transported to another land. Tardieu’s scenery and descriptions were incredibly well crafted. I’m usually not a very visual reader, but I could picture the university, the lab, and the forest as I read, and really felt grounded in the surroundings.

I also really liked the magical lore and myth used – I’d love to read another book set in the same world, to be honest. The worldbuilding wasn’t quite flawless, but there was a clear internal logic to it, which kept everything together and cohesive. There was a fair bit of action and adventure, especially at the end, which again, was really well-written. I read this in two chunks almost a month apart (my job has been quite busy lately) and even though I forgot a little bit of the plot in between, I was still instantly pulled into the scene once I started reading and I didn’t go back to find the forgotten plot points unless I was at a scene break.

I will say, I just didn’t feel much chemistry between the two characters until the very end. I loved Kyler; her character felt very much like a serious college student to me, which she would have roughly equivocated to, age-wise. Reading about her brought me back to the more academic elements of college and how enjoyable they were, which is not something I’m used to a fiction book evoking! But there were several moments that quietly celebrated Kyler’s enjoyment of the learning process, whether she was describing her work as a scribe or reading reference books or practicing magic, and I was incredibly excited to see that represented in a character, especially a female one!

Leith, though, I found harder to connect with until the very end – maybe that’s why the chemistry just wasn’t there for me. This didn’t bother me as much as you would think; I was really immersed in the world-building and the setting, and I liked most of the secondary characters, so it ended up being just one element of many, rather than the central component like it would be in a traditional romance novel.

If you’re a purist looking for a steamy, relationship-centric romance, or fast-moving fantasy adventure, or if you’re looking for a primarily character-driven story, then, alas, this may not be the book for you. But if you’re looking for a good genre mix, or if you like a strong sense of place and crisp, clean writing, or if you’re just looking for a character with a well-drawn love of learning, then this may just be the book for you.

Born to be Wilde

by: Eloisa James

Born to be Wilde is James’ newest addition to her Wilde series, which features a ‘celebrity’ family of aristocrats, the Wildes, whose exploits are widely gossiped about and followed in 18th century England.

This installment follows Parth Sterling, an orphaned cousin raised with the Wilde family who is now a wildly successful businessman and banker, and Lavinia Grey, a once-wealthy heiress whose laudanum-addicted mother has left in a bit of a financial pinch. Lavinia finds herself in need of a wealthy husband and though Parth has refused to marry her, he offers to find her a suitable husband.

I love James’ writing but I haven’t been terribly enamored with the Wilde series.  They’re a little more focused on main character drama, when what I’ve always most enjoyed about James’ work is her incorporation of friendships, particularly female friendships. This book was no exception – it was satisfactory but not a stand-out.

Lavinia and Parth had a fiery, annoyed-by-you-but-I-really-like-you relationship which was fun to follow; I definitely enjoyed the bantering between them.  I felt some of the conflict was a tad bit forced, but the chemistry was real and both of the characters were good people, the kind you’d want to hang out with. Lavinia was on a journey of learning to value herself and her talents, and I thought that was a really nice story line. I particularly liked the way it played out; it felt both very empowering and true to the time period.

It may have been that I was reading it just before bedtime but I found it hard to keep track of all the side characters – I kept on forgetting who was who and how they were connected to each other.  I’ve read all the books in this series and maybe I was just tired, but none of the side characters were on the pages long enough to be well-developed and they kept on slipping out of my mind.

One thing that James did really well was her treatment of Parth.  Parth is an Indian-Anglo character; his mother was Indian and his father was British.  He was sent to England when he was 5 and had lived there ever since. He’s very British culturally, but there is a definite acknowledgement that things are different for him because of his mixed heritage.  And it’s rare to find an Indian lead in Western media so clearly represented as sexy (which Parth definitely was! This is one of James’ steamier novels.)

James includes an afterword discussing the relatively accepting attitudes of British society towards Anglo-Indian children in the late 1700s*, which is reflected in the novel (Lord Liverpool, prime minister 1812-1827, was of Anglo-Indian descent.)  This was such a wise decision on her part – it gave her some space where she could include instances of Parth being treated differently, judged and a bit othered, but it didn’t need to be a focal point of his experience as a British citizen. And because she chose to make him culturally British, she didn’t have the opportunity to accidentally mangle Indian culture.

From James’  research, it sounds like Parth’s experience would have been fairly typical for an Anglo-Indian child aristocratic child in this time period. It was a really clever way of including a character of color that was both appropriate for the time period and for the author’s own experience.  I think James has deftly and sensitively added an Anglo-Indian character to the historical romance genre.

So I definitely recommend the book if you’re looking for a unique hero, if you’re a fan of a really nice personal growth journey for the heroine, or if you’d like a good bit of tension between the main characters.  If you’re looking for a supportive female friend group or if you’re not a fan of books that rely heavily on other books in their series, than alas, this may not be the book for you.

*Attitudes drastically changed during the Victorian period, for the worse.

First Star I See Tonight

by: Susan Elizabeth Phillips

First Star I See Tonight is Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ latest addition to her Chicago Stars series, a contemporary romance series about the players and coaches of the fictional Chicago Stars football team.

I really enjoy Phillips’ writing and this was no exception.  It’s a light-hearted romp, with humor and spirited characters and just a touch of reality.  This installment follows Cooper Graham (who has either two first names or two last names), a retired quarterback breaking into the nightclub business and Piper Dove, the struggling PI who’s been hired to follow him.  It’s written in third person from both their perspectives.

Cooper was a nice, if lighthearted, take on a retired athlete – someone who hasn’t lost everything but still hasn’t found himself. He’s a great male lead: competitive, kind, and just a tad bit overbearing.  He’s definitely the kind of male hero it’s fun to daydream about without ever turning into the guy you’d never want to meet in real life. He actually listens to Piper and, even though the set up is ripe for it, Phillips never allows him to override Piper’s wishes with a

Piper is strong and confident and frustrated by the sexism of the world.  Her father raised her to be the toughest of women and then was unhappy when she wanted to use her skillset to make a living. Though this isn’t the conflict that’s driving Piper, it has clearly influenced her and I really appreciated Phillips’ inclusion of it. I think most women would can relate to a loving dad who wants to raise a tough little girl and then gets frustrated that she never turns into a dainty little lady.  She’s also a little impulsive in a way I didn’t always appreciate, just because she was generally so

Like a lot of Phillips’ work, the book has a bit of adventure and a dash of danger (which does work to push the characters into an “AHA!” moment). The plot moves really quickly without ever losing the fun of it all, something that Phillips particularly excels at. There’s a twist that I saw coming, but being able to see it didn’t take away from the pleasure of reading the book.

But there is a major element that I struggle with in Phillips’ writing that is really troubling for me.  She often includes characters of color as side characters and I feel like she often leans heavily on stereotypes to develop the characters.  They’re often developed characters just…they do feel based on stereotypes. And there’s often a hint of a white savior component.  In this book, she choose to include Muslim characters from an unnamed Middle Eastern…and the white main characters literally save one of the Muslim characters from a cartoonishly evil Middle Eastern Prince.

Now, Phillips does make a point to say not all rich Middle Eastern princes are villains, and she uses the opportunity to (a little clumsily) introduce several important components of Islam in a fairly positive and respectful light.  I do applaud that she clearly thinks bringing in more diverse characters in romance novels is important – it absolutely is. I believe Phillips had positive intentions. And at this point in time, there is certainly some benefit to even a clumsily done inclusion of a sympathetic Muslim woman into mainstream American romance.

But that doesn’t excuse it from its faults, either, or from the fact Muslim women, like all women, deserve to be developed as individual characters in novels, informed, but not defined, by their culture, religion, and/or heritage, and certainly not written based on stereotypes or brought in as a convenient plot point to prove how good the main (white) characters are.  And this isn’t the first time Phillips has handled inclusion of characters of color quite clumsily; she has several books with cringeworthy moments with black characters.  (Though this is certainly the most egregious example.)

So despite how much I enjoyed this book, I don’t think I’ll be rereading it. I don’t want to demonize Phillips for trying and failing, because honestly the genre as a whole is not inclusive and generally not trying. However, I’m also not comfortable recommending the book.

If you decide to read it, maybe pick up Huda Fahmy’s upcoming book Yes, I’m Hot in This: The Hilarious Truth of Life in a Hijab as well.  Fahmy writes and draws amazingly funny comics about her own life and I am so excited about her book coming out!  (and, hey, pick it up if you’re not reading First Star I See Tonight, too.)

The Other Miss Bridgerton

by: Julia Quinn

I’ve said it before, but Julia Quinn is one of my favorite authors.  I was really excited to see she had another Bridgerton book out – this one a prequel to her original Bridgerton series.

The Other Miss Bridgerton follows the adventures of Poppy Bridgerton, a well-bred young lady on her second Season not quite actually looking for a husband.  She stumbles across a smuggler’s cave one day and ends up whisked away on a privateer’s ship with charming Captain Andrew Rokesby, bound for Portugal and adventure. The story is told from both Andrew and Poppy’s point of view, in third person.

This is, of course, a Regency romance, and it’s delightful and witty and incredibly fun to read. Quinn does such an amazing job of writing intelligent, fun, likable, and realistic characters – Poppy is perhaps my favorite character of hers so far!

Quinn easily takes the reader through the delightful twists and turns of an overly inquisitive mind. Nothing Poppy says is random to the reader, but it’s quite clear why it’s out of the blue for the other characters. Poppy’s train of thought is very similar to mine; I’m the kind of person who might be staring at a piece of abstract art and ask, “Why aren’t frogs a more accepted part of American cuisine?” In my head, there’s a clear connection between the art and fried frog legs, but to everyone else in the room, it’s quite the odd response!

I also love Poppy’s response to being kidnapped – she makes the best of the situation but she also doesn’t shy away from being honest about how crappy it is. I think this is probably my favorite part of the book, as Poppy always strives to be pleasant and kind while still holding Andrew accountable for his actions. What’s more, this is behavior that she has from the start of the book, not some grand climax where they communicate and make things all better.  From the very beginning, she expects him to deal with the fact that he has put her in a bad situation, and she never takes on responsibility for the guilt and shame he feels about it. Here is a relationship built on the premise that a woman shouldn’t minimize her emotions so a man doesn’t have to face his. Excellent.

TOMB has a lot more adventure than the average Quinn novel.  I didn’t think I was going to enjoy it, but I was quickly proven wrong. There’s tons of the usual witty banter between the characters and the action isn’t overdone or wildly improbable. It’s fun and fairly nicely balanced. (Plus, this is a romance novel. You know there will be a happily ever after.) The plot moves along at a nice clip but without taking away from the romance and character development.

The main characters fall in love rather quickly, but hey, it’s a romance novel. Quinn does not write super steamy books and this is no exception – there are a few sex scenes, well-written but not incredibly explicit (by romance novel standards, at least!)

If you’re into hot and steamy romance novels, with lots of dramatic and adventures on the high seas, then this book, alas, probably isn’t for you.  But if you want a feminist, fun read with lots of wit, characters you feel like you could be good friends with, and a satisfying happily ever after, then I highly recommend The Other Miss Bridgerton.

Emma

by: Jane Austen

I love rereading books by listening to the audio books but I often struggle to find books narrated by women.  I don’t know why, but there are times when I strongly prefer to listen to a woman’s voice over a man’s and while I have plenty of podcasts that fit the bill, it’s harder for me to find audiobooks.  But I decided, after listening to Pride and Prejudice, that I should continue with my Austen adventure and downloaded Emma.

Emma, is, of course, a classic novel by Jane Austen. Written in Georgian-Regency times (thanks Wikipedia!), it follows the titular character through the perils of matchmaking, romance, and growing up.  My audiobook was narrated by Juliet Stevenson, who was really excellent. Her voice is elegant and has just the tiniest hint of merriment.

When I first read Emma, I was in early high school.  I only read it the once, so while I knew the plot, I really wasn’t prepared for all the comedy I’d missed the first time around.  I had to stop myself from laughing out loud more than once, and I’m sure that I walked around grinning like a fool while listening.  Austen pokes fun at her characters dryly and deservedly, though kindly.  I missed a lot my first read and I remember thinking the plot dragged a bit.  Now, when I can appreciate the subtle satire and the ridiculousness of the scenes, I didn’t think it dragged at all, even though not much happens in the story.

It’s a cohesive story and solid plot, but what I loved best are the individual scenes that can stand on their own.  My favorite scene involved two rather self-absorbed characters, one quite good-natured, engaged in a conversation where each is determinedly wresting the subject back to their favorite brag every time they speak. I was thoroughly entranced and amused the entire scene – it felt real, funny, and I could definitely think of a few people who it reminded me of!  It could have been taken from the story and read just as a scene and been just as satisfying.

Like all Austen books, some of the references and subtle pokes haven’t aged as well – a very few, but there were times when something was clearly supposed to be obvious and I had no clue what was being referenced.  And, of course, there’s a lot of subtlety and unspoken context going on in the novel, as in any Austen novel.

I will say, the ending did feel like it dragged on a bit and then, when it did end, it felt rather abrupt.  It was particularly noticeable because I was listening to it; I couldn’t start skimming over the last bit after I knew the major problems were resolved.  Austen thoroughly ties up every plot line, perhaps a tad too neatly and leaves the reader completely satisfied.  Her characters are believable and engaging. Overall, despite the more complex language, it’s a great escapism novel.

If you like things to happen in your novel, clear and straightforward writing, or a hot ‘n’ steamy romance, this, unfortunately, is probably not the book for you. If, however, you like old-fashioned and sweet stories, you love absurd but realistic humor, or you’re just looking for a book to read in a garden with a glass of wine, then I strongly encourage you to give Emma a read.