Other elements: Sex. Patriarchy. Golden ringlets.
Read it: If your only alternative is death.
Overall rating: 0.01/10I assume there are other women out there like me who like to read and like romance but detest empty-headed heroines who embody patriarchal fantasies of subservient, male-dependant women? Such a book would involve zero instances of women being forcibly picked up and moved from one place to another by a man who knows what’s best for her.
The characters in this book are flawed in many ways but, perhaps worst of all, they’re inconsistent. They behave very differently in different parts of the book without established growth to justify the change in behavior. One example: about halfway through the book, the heroine learns that she is commonly known as a cold “Ice Queen”. I was surprised to learn that the other characters felt this way about her, because I had just slogged through 100 pages of this woman screaming, begging, crying, fluttering, sneaking out of windows, and passionately kissing inappropriate men, all with great feeling.
The hero of this book is mean, illogical, revoltingly high-minded, snooty, controlling, and irritating. The heroine is worse. She is described, of course, as a vision of perfect loveliness. And also as “a flighty little piece.” She is pouty and simpering. She never fully understands the consequences of any of her actions until a man explains them to her. She is annoying and stupid. I hate her. I can’t tell you any more without sounding like a child having a tantrum (if that ship hasn’t already sailed), so here are some quotes:
“And here they were, just inches away, and her utter perfection had just literally taken his breath away.”
“She mellowed a little. How could she not, when he was demonstrating such faith in her fashion sense?”
“Over the next few days she found she was glad Harry had bruised her face.”
“‘I beg your pardon,’ she said. ‘I have finished crying now.’ … He almost gasped with admiration. She must have an inner core of steel.”
And we can sum it up in the hero’s own words:
“‘Smuggled letters?’ He looked at her, aghast. ‘I am beginning to feel as if I have walked into some kind of badly written play.'”
Truer words were never spoken, sir.