I received a free Audible code for A.J. Merlin‘s Reckless through FreeAudibleCodes. And, honestly, I probably owe the author an apology because I received the code when I was doing a ton of diamond paintings. But then I got accepted into graduate school and all of those opportunities evaporated. So, this book has been waiting in the wings for a while. But I’ve started walking now, which means time to listen again.
Maned wolf shifter Alek Sawyer is a pro at landing on her feet. From being dropped into foster care as a child, to tripping over her hopeless romantic tendencies as a teenager, she’s an omega with no need of an alpha or a pack. With a curvy figure and a mean right hook, she’s also not the omega that most alphas expect her to be.
But Hades, Roman, and Wilder aren’t ‘most alphas.’ When Alek is unexpectedly and irrevocably drawn to the exhibitionist panther, the quiet but firm coyote, and the secretive dire wolf, she can’t help but be reminded of the fairy tale romance she’s always wanted. But when things start heating up, she starts to realize her day dreams are drifting to some darker corners than she remembers. Corners with collars and cuffs and a strong dominating presence.
But her new romance isn’t all kinky games and bdsm parties. Her new alphas come with secrets of their own and lead lives that Alek has never considered for herself. At the end of the day, will their sudden and powerful connection be enough to keep them together?
Or will their pasts, or Alek’s own skeletons, force them apart?
This is a great big “Meh” for me. And I cannot tell you how disappointed I am about that. Because the book has all of the elements to be a winner, but it just never quite manages it. It has the ingredients for interesting characters, but they remain shallow cardboard cutouts (the men especially). It has a lead-up for a strong romance, but the characters basically only come together for sex, so even that never appears. It has the structure for an interesting plot, but it never quite develops. The writing is mechanically fine, but never memorable. Same for the narration. Nothing is wrong with it (other than the alphas not sounding particularly alpha-like), but nothing stands out. The book almost says something noteworthy by being such a clear analogy with alpha/omega standing in for men/women in a patriarchal society, and how women are treated. But pulls back before actually saying it, such that it ends up just feeling like a cheap plot device rather than a meaningful comparison. There are so many almosts here. But ultimately that’s all.
As the assassin for his duke, Lord Silas Graveston’s world is clear-cut—protect his liege, protect his family name and honor, and the rest will take care of itself… Or so he believed until three years ago, when his aunt was attacked in the capital and his family’s emerald necklace stolen.
When the emerald choker appears upon the neck of his long-sworn enemy’s new courtesan, Silas knows he’ll stop at nothing to get it back.
But Silas isn’t the only one engaged in a deep masquerade, and he’s not the only assassin in the queen’s court. The threat of violence is a familiar shadow for Natalya Slipshayde, an ever-present force following her every step. She has no family, no code. All she needs is a way out.
Unfortunately for them both, the webs of Draykemire are more intricate than even the most skilled assassin can navigate, and there are predators lurking at every turn.
TL;DR I hated it.
This is admittedly rambly, as I’m mainly trying to convey the vibes. But I got so much ick from this book. I doubt it’s what the author intended, but everything about it felt incredibly patronizing. It is a patriarchal fever dream. Polygynous, except that the women don’t even get the legal or social protection of being a ‘wife.’
Ball chose their title well; these are courtesans. And of course, a courtesan is a “prostitute with a courtly, wealthy, or upper-class clientele.” As far as I can tell, they’re schooled, trained, and then hired or purchased. Their patriarch/husband/John is called a Suzerain, but it sure felt like owner/master to me. Cortesians are counted among a nobleman’s assets after all. Sure, ideally, they have some agency in whose offer they accept, but once accepted, the Suzerain seems to basically own them. The man is the head of the household, making all decisions. Women (or at least some women) don’t speak until acknowledged by the man first; they stand when he enters a room and don’t sit again until he does, he names them (and names them in relation to what they bring him or he enjoys about them—Comfort, Vice, Pain etc), they are sexually available to him at his whim, and their reproductive labor is his to claim. He holds ALL the power, socially, financially, legally, politically, and so on.
I think it’s the inconsistency that irked me, though. They’re courtesans in the truest sense. But Ball wants them to come across as family. And sure, in theory, I could get on board with this being an alternate society where that’s the case. But it just didn’t work for me. What I saw instead was a familial scenario in which everything revolves around men and their women-shaped toys, all smoothed over by etiquette and benevolent sexism. And ultimately, when I sit down to read a romance novel, I want romance. As a female reader, I especially want to feel that the woman is special to the man in the relationship. I didn’t feel that here. I feel like I just read about a man and the interchangeable whores he’s fond of, has some moderate affection for, and therefore treats well. Meh.
Honestly, having said all of that, if I hadn’t seen Beth Ball’s author photo, I’d swear a man wrote this. That feels like a reasonable explanation for it all. Not just because of the strictly male-headed hierarchical family relationship. But also because all of the women are reduced to old, stale stereotypes. There is a single cold, duplicatous woman in possession of power. The jealous, cruel older woman who sees herself as scorned, the youthful skipping, giggling second ‘wife’ who brings child-like joy to the man’s life, and the FMC who is supposed to be smart, strong, and skilled but still somehow needs the man to rescue her and submits to him happily, while not being like other girls. As well as the tone and thought processes of the male lead, from whose POV most of the book is written, and the fact that the book almost doesn’t pass the very low bar of the Bechdel Test.
Plus, there’s just a whole sense that the men (even the guards) understand the way of the world in a manner the women do not. They then allow the women their illusions, acquiescing to their naive games and watching over them with paternal/patriarchal care. It’s all just kind of…Well, I bet a conservative/fundamentalist Christian would feel right at home. Hell, I hardly even think the multiple wives would be all that off-putting so long as they showed the deference of gracious submission as these cortesans do their masters.
And look, this is listed as dark romance (though it’s not particularly dark, to be honest). It’s not that I expected it to be a paragon of feminism. It’s just that I’m so tired of the same recycled social orders. Honestly, even I’m a little surprised by how exhausted reading this made me. I think I would have been more tolerant of the whole system if courtesans (and nobles, for that matter) could be of both male and female genders. If Ball had thrown in a chevalier or something. (There is a single mention of a noblewoman and her consort about 3/4 of the way through. But that is the only reference in a system that is wholly gendered for the entirety of the rest of the book, and I’m not even sure he was meant to be the equivalent of a courtesan.) If there had been more gender parity among both courtesans and nobles, the whole thing wouldn’t have felt so gendered and tired then. I know I’ve used that word, tired, more than once. But it’s honestly how I feel about the whole thing. Just imagine a person who is tired of something, encountering it again, and again, and again, but is also just too exhausted by it all, even to be piqued to ire.
Add to all of this the cardboard cutout FMC and my intense dislike for the MMC. True, almost everyone else is shown to mistreat their courtesans, some horribly, and no one seems to blink (which says a lot about the place and protections of courtesans). The MMC is, of course, appalled, and the reader is meant to see that he is so much better than the rest. This is supposed to reflect well on him. But he still exists within and supports the system. He still holds all the power. He could, at any moment, decide to treat his courtesans just as poorly as we see others do, and there would be no recourse. (He all but dismissed Comfort, who had been with him since he was a teen, with ease, and anted Vice up in a bet, for example.) This makes him complicit in the system, and nothing in his surface-level kindness to his own courtesans made up for it.
And yes, the romance between Phantom and Pain is written to be a grand love, something more than what the MMC has with the others. But so was his passion for Comfort once, and his love for Vice, cooled, but still alive. How am I to believe there is a true romantic HEA here and not just another burst of passion that will pass with her replacement? It all just felt like a business transaction. He bought himself a new fancy lady, and she’s playing the role of his most novel courtisan, just as Vice is his youthful (childish) joy, and Comfort his useful social bridge (almost out to pasture). And we mustn’t forget that she was hurt by his bringing Vice into the family, and then again when he brought Pain in. So, her feelings were not important in the face of his desire for a new toy. Nor were they when he literally “gave no thought to the soft sob that sounded behind them” as he and Pain walked away. This is a romantic lead? Not in my world.
I’m not claiming this is a bad book. If someone wants a romance steeped in the patriarchy, this will light them on fire. I, however, hated it. I mean, really hated it. There’s no point in even getting into any technical critiques I have. I just hoped for so much more. So, while the writing here is fine, it was not a winner for me.
Nancy has just about given up on finding her special person when Jack Jackson—big, scary and the town loser—walks into her bookstore. He’s apparently even more desperate for help in the romance department than she is. And after a bit of gentle persuasion, he finally accepts her guidance in securing his dream girl. Practice dates, lessons in tenderness—you name it, she can teach it.
There’s just one his dream girl might have more than an issue with his dating skills. Because Jack isn’t just a little clueless; he’s actually the demonic son of Satan, from the deepest depths of hell. He’s spent his entire long underlife dragging evildoers to their fates, while really trying not to live up to his Dad’s expectations.
Now, it isn’t just about getting a date with his dream girl. He needs to become a better man to win over the woman he’s been cosmically bound to, in a Beauty and the Beast style pact. If he fails, everyone he cares for will face a terrible fate. Luckily for him, Nancy may well be the witch she’s always tried to pretend she wasn’t. She can save him, he knows it—and she’s starting to know it too. Even if every day spent with him is an agonising reminder that she isn’t the girl he’s fated for.
But as the deadline approaches she’s starting to wonder… Could it be that she’s finally found her Prince? Or is she about to lose her heart to hell?
This was super cozy and sweet, somewhat ridiculous, but heart-warming. I think as long as you go into the book knowing that’s what you are going to get, and not expecting something else, this could be a big win. It was for me. Jack is a giant golden retriever marshmallow with a scary face. Nancy is just the nicest nice girl you can imagine. Watching her be kind to him and him learning to lean into that is lovely. There are no big surprises in the plot. It’s pretty apparent where the whole thing is going from page one. But go in for the feels. I dare you.
social orders. Honestly, even I’m a little surprised by how exhausted reading this made me. I think I would have been more tolerant of the whole system if courtesans (and nobles, for that matter) could be of both male and female genders. If Ball had thrown in a chevalier or something. (There is a single mention of a noblewoman and her consort about 3/4 of the way through. But that is the only reference in a system that is wholly gendered for the entirety of the rest of the book, and I’m not even sure he was meant to be the equivalent of a courtesan.) If there had been more gender parity among both courtesans and nobles, the whole thing wouldn’t have felt so gendered and tired then. I know I’ve used that word, tired, more than once. But it’s honestly how I feel about the whole thing. Just imagine a person who is tired of something, encountering it again, and again, and again, but is also just too exhausted by it all, even to be piqued to ire.
