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Book Review of The Stables, #1 & 2, by C. E. Kilgore

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I downloaded the first two books of C. E. Kilgore‘s The Stables series from the Amazon free list. At the time of posting, the first was still free. The series description is as such:

Set in Dallas, Texas, this is a Contemporary Romance series with BDSM elements and mature, atypical themes, including physical disfigurement, Autism, and OCD. Each book will be a complete story, no cliffhangers.

All these pieces of meDescription from Goodreads:
Emma’s autism allows her to see the world inside out and right past the physical scars that Brandon had begun to think would be the only thing the world would ever see.

Review:
If I was going to use a star rating on this book I’d want to give it a 2, but would probably allow a 2.5. The reason is that the writing is fine and it’s probably even a fine book, conforming to genre standards etc. However, it pretty much pissed me off at every single turn!

I’m struggling to explain why without writing a 2,000 word ranty review. I’ll start with the autism aspect. No, first I’ll state for the record that I think Kilgore had a wonderful idea in writing a series involving non-normalized individuals. Incorporating mental health issues and physical abnormalities into main characters is a laudable goal. I only wish she had actually accomplished it.

Now I’ll address Emma’s autism. Not once in the entire book (other than the first sentence of the blurb) is the word autism used. Autistic is used twice. In this sentence: “The Fed’s brain-doctor thought she might be autistic, but they don’t really know for sure. Then again they label everyone autistic, thesedays.” That’s it for the entire book for autism. I don’t know about you, but I find it less than compelling.

Perhaps you’re thinking a diagnosis doesn’t need to be named to exist in a character. I might agree with that, except that Emma doesn’t seem to self-identify as autistic and she doesn’t display any behaviours that are particularly autistic. In fact, none of her thoughts, actions, or behaviours fall outside of the realm of standard, fragile, broken heroine in need of a man to set her world to rights.

More to the point, what Emma’s every description screams is the standard child-like heroine of 4 bazillion other contemporary romances. Even when being introduced into BDSM she’s clad as such:

Her curly hair has been pinned up into bouncing caramel ringlet pigtails and she’s dressed all in white. White leather. White. Fucking. Leather! A front-laced corset leads down into a pair of frilly bloomers, which then leads down into matching garter belts and white lace stockings. There are tiny, pink bows everywhere, including on the bands of her white Mary-Jane shoes. White leather bracers with lace frills and a matching collar complete the look, and in her hand is a thin, white riding crop.

It’s all angelic innocence and virginal naiveté, even in a BDSM club. As if the more child-like the heroine, the more appealing she is. Gah! Basically, everything I hate about contemporary romances in one place.

Plus, no one, not even the author, addressed the fact that this particular style is an adult version of what her mother used to dress her in to pimp her to older men as a child. (Or at least to attract older men into her embezzlement schemes.) Yes, lets accidentally sexualise her history abuse. Sounds like a great idea.

Instead of providing an empowered, sexual agent who happens to be on the autism spectrum we’re given a broken, abused, mentally unstable woman. It plays into the same tired record of female mental fragility that I hate with a vitriolic passion I’m not sure I can adequately express.

What the book feels like instead, is that the author did her market research to find what was trending at the moment and came across BDSM and autism. She then went through and painted autism onto the surface of a preexisting M/F erotic romance. (Kind of like what a lot of M/M romance authors do to sell M/F romances to M/M readers.) Because honestly, what the BDSM themes have to do with the autism theme is a complete mystery. I think the book would have been vastly improved by choosing one or the other and not both.

An author can call a character anything she likes and have it be true. They’re the author. But beyond Kilgore’s assertion that Emma is autistic, I don’t see it. What Emma is is an archetype of a child-sexpot and personally, I want to read about adult, fully integrated women in sexual roles.

The book also has insta-love, which I hate. Insta-trust, which baffles me (and kind of pisses me off, too). A group of five childhood friends who all grew up to have essentially the same sexual kinks (six if you count Crow), which mystifies me. The required lecture and training in BDSM, which bores me. The endless repetitive drivel about being awed and blown away, which irritates me. The cliché scene where the rich man takes the woman shopping for clothing, which makes me roll my eyes, and an ending so sappy I damn near choked on it, which frankly disgusts me.

So, that all makes this book a complete failure for me. However, to be fair, I did actually like the characters (including the side characters) and really appreciated the fact that BDSM wasn’t presented as abusive and humiliating. (I know that’s some people’s kink, but it’s not mine and I appreciated not finding it here.) That’s what saved the book from a 1 star, if I’m honest.

Obsessive CompulsionDescription from Goodreads:
Ian’s OCD draws him to Charlie at the same time it’s pushing him away from her, but Charlie isn’t about to let him control the way their relationship unfolds. 

Review:
Hey, Yo, alert the presses! Apparently dysfunctional, clinical OCD can be cured by liberal application of a hot pussy, by a woman who can count to four. Who knew it was so easy?

OK, fine, the book doesn’t claim Charlie cured Ian’s OCD. It’s just that all his symptoms seemed to go away. The reason I picked up The Stable series in the first place was to see disabilities integrated into romance. But Ian’s OCD is pretty much just of the stereotypical, what you pick up from the interent sort. I sensed no deeper understanding of the illness, thus, no depth to the character dealing with it (at least not once he met Charlie). I’m not claiming any expertise or anything, but I didn’t feel the book, which is ostensibly intending to give people with OCD a romantic character to relate to, accomplished that.

On the bright side, one of my biggest complaints about book one was that Emma didn’t actually appear to be autistic at all. In this one, I still thought she acted like a child, not like an autistic, but at lest people (though notably never Emma) discussed her autism, so it at least felt relevant.

But there was one big drawback for me (and it’s a BIG one for me). I was so excited to see that Ian was a sub and Charlie a dom. I got all giddy at the thought of the female being in charge and obviously strong (as well as allowing a man to be something other than an alpha). I was majorly let down. Even in a book set up to let the woman dominate she STILL ended up sobbing in the man’s arms over her past traumas, as he corrected everything in her life. Her control in bed also basically came down to servicing him. So, no real subversion of standard gender tropes after all. Gah, really? So disappointing.

Like book one, the writing was fine. It could use a little more editing, but it’s not a mess or anything. And despite the fact that the author and I obviously have different ideas of what constitutes a satisfying romance, I do like the characters. This leaves me in the odd position of having been annoyed at this book (which is an improvement over pissed off at the first one, yeah?), but still curious to see how (’cause obviously they will) Saul, Austin and Vic get their happy ending in book 3.

Review of End of the Trail (End Of The Trail #1), by Jane Elliot

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End of the TrailI downloaded a copy of Jane Elliot‘s End of the Trail from the Amazon free list.

Description from Goodreads:
Will Connors is struggling to hold together a failing farm; his wife has died, his son has gone, he’s not without enemies and he’s dealing with the after-effects of a debilitating accident. It’s a life of toil which doesn’t allow for very much pleasure, and he’s in danger of becoming embittered until a chance acquaintance wanders back into his life and everything begins to change. The problem, however, is that John Anderson has a price on his head – and, very soon, Will and John find themselves desperately concealing more than one dangerous secret.

Review:
Wow, I can honestly say I did not expect to like this as much as I did. It’s a wonderfully slow, angst free, subtle, Gay For You story and I very much enjoyed it. I liked the way it was situated in the time period. I liked the way Will still desperately loved his wife and missed his son. (Women are so often poorly presented in MM and that wasn’t the case here.) I appreciated the way sex wasn’t gratuitous, in either frequency or scope. These men didn’t suddenly start going at it like rabbits just because they were snowed in together. They had to learn to work around Will’s gimp leg, for example. I loved the way each man had his own personality and quirks. John and those chickens, for example. There was a lot to love in this book.

I did think the way John found to do good and contribute toward his redemption was a little sappy and unrealistic. I would have expected that sort of thing to take a year or more to set up, not a few weeks. Also, there wasn’t any real excitement. Everything kind of plods along nicely, but anyone looking for an action-packed read would be disappointed.

All-in-all, it was a great feel-good read and I’ll be looking for the sequel, as well as more of Jane Elliot’s work.

Book Review of No Light (The Dems Trilogy #1), by Devi Mara

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No LightI downloaded a copy of Devi Mara‘s book, No Light when it was free on Amazon. (I included both covers because the one I read had the second cover, but I so hate the new one that I wouldn’t have picked the book up if I’d seen it first. Seriously, that blank, innocent look on the MC’s face screams TSTL. I would have run the other direction from it and I didn’t want to post it here as something I would have been attracted to. Petty, I know.)

Description from Goodreads:
“Name?” he demanded. 
“Sarah Mackenzie.” She swallowed hard. She would be like the ones who had fallen, her remains something to be cleaned from the floor. 
“Age?” 
She tried not to tense when he brought his face to her neck and inhaled deeply. 
“Twenty-two.” The lie tried to stick in her throat. 
He pulled back and gave her a dark look. “Try again.” 
“Eighteen,” she whispered, tensing when his lips pulled back from his teeth in a shark smile. 
“A lie, Sarah? How nice that you are not as innocent as you look.” 

In The Corridor, there are the immortal Dems and the human handlers who guard them. When the leader of the Dems gets a handler straight out of training, she is not expected to live beyond her first day. She is everything he hates and he is everything she fears, but an accident permanently binds them together. With corruption growing among the humans and the threat of war, they must escape The Corridor and find common ground in a place with No Light.

Review:
This book was at best OK. The actual writing itself is fine, though it needed another edit, but the story is so full of inconsistencies, insubstantial world-building, poor character development and absent emotional growth that it pains me to discuss it.

I’ll start with Sarah. For 2/3 of the book, she is such a limp noodle, so weak and scared of everything that she literally can’t even communicate in complete sentences, just stutters and apologies. Then for the last 1/3, she miraculously, with no apparent instigation for change, becomes a strong-willed, brave, stand-up for herself and those she loves, fighter and I was left thinking, ‘this is not the same girl.’ Her character was wholly inconsistent.

Then there is Farran. He too has an instant and unfollowable change of temperament. For 2/3 of the book, he’s gruff and unfeeling, hates humans and barely tolerates Sarah. Then, he morphed into an expressive, demonstrative, lovely man. What? How? Why?

The plot…it makes no sense. The Dems are imprisoned on what I assume is Earth. They are bigger and significantly stronger than humans. They can see in complete darkness, heal almost instantly and are maybe psychic. But they are guarded by a single person with nothing more than a stun gun. What’s more, they always seemed to be alone with that guard, or at least Sarah and Farran do.

Plus, it’s inferred that Sarah is assigned to Farran because she’s the only day guard in the current training class, therefore the only one available. But what makes a day guard, morning guard or night guard different is never addressed. If it’s just preference for time of shift (and it’s shown guards can change shifts) why does it matter? Even more to the point, couldn’t someone cover the shift long enough for Sarah to at least get trained?

Plus (again), if a Dem has three guards, why is the day guard the only one referred to as ‘his handler?’ What about the other two, do they not count and if not, why not? Nothing about the prison-setting, handler/guard set up makes any sense. NOTHING.

Then there is the Marking (which I suppose is intended as the romance). Farran marked Sarah by accident. That’s right he didn’t mean to and he even actively disliked and was disgusted by her at the time and for most of the book. But that marking, which should take years to develop is unusually strong, but we’re never told why. And in and among all this being disgusted by Sarah and Sarah being terrified of Farran, they’re supposed to have fallen in love. I saw no indication of this until BAM love. But it’s anyone’s guess what it’s based on. She’d hardly even been able to speak to him and he did nothing but snarl and bark at her.

Then there is the world-building…oh, wait, no there isn’t. There really isn’t any world-building to speak of, sorry.

There are also some really cliché scenes. For example, the alternative love interest taking her clothes shopping and changing the ugly duckling into a beautiful swan with the help of his riches and a good sales girl. Meh. This same theme is echoed in Farran picking out Sarah’s clothes for her. Because, obviously, what a girl looks like and how she visually presents herself is sooo important.

Lastly, (or the last thing I’ll mention for fear of appearing to attack a book) some of the plot-devices are extremely obvious. As an example, Farran has no problem understanding humanity or communicating. (In fact, for much of the book I wondered how everyone did communicate so easily—newly arrived aliens even using English when conversing among themselves, for example.) But toward the end he is painfully dense and unable to understand why he’s ineffectively communicated an important point, which leads to Sarah running out and committing the requisite TSTL acts and obviously needing rescue. The set up on that scenario was so obvious I could have provided bullet points before reading it. Similarly, Sarah’s inability to see the obvious so that the author could drag it out as a big ‘Ta-Da’ at the end was worth at least one eye-roll.

The writing does have an appreciable eerie feel to it. I liked Farran’s Colonels. They were funny. I liked that Luke seemed to have a little grey to his character. He genuinely seemed to want to help Sarah, but was in too deep to be able to do it. I liked that the Dems actually committed violence that supported the claim that they were dangerous, as opposed to the reader being told they’re dangerous but never seeing anything to prove it. I’ll even grant that the boook lacked the normal NA angst about sex, for which I’ll thank every literary god there is. So, it’s not that there wasn’t anything I liked about the book. But the dislikes outnumbered the likes by a significant amount. (And the totally sappy ending was my final straw, really. *shudder*)