I love her gown, though. Bright yellow, empire waist, elegant lines…
Jane Austen must have spoiled me for other romances. Because when I read other romances, I usually end up disappointed. They say hi, then rip at each other’s clothes on page 7; or she is all sensible and smart initially, but a fool for a kiss on page 5. Where is the build up, the suspense, the integrity if all declarations of principles or virtue or determination are thrown out the window at the drop of a hat? Yet, I still read romances every now and then, to escape, to breathe, to wallow in fluff, hoping for a good read, if not an unforgettable romance.
Starting out fun, And Then He Kissed Her was a good, funny read –until about three fourths into the book, where the plot degenerated into formula, meaning the heroine suddenly turned into another person, who conveniently could sleep with the guy despite supposedly possessing a strict of set of values and principles that forbids becoming a man’s mistress. A woman of the 1890s, Emmaline Dove takes her reputation seriously. With heart set on becoming a writer of manners and etiquette, she stuck with her job, secretary to Lord Marlowe, publisher and determined bachelor, for five years. Thinking he was her best chance of making her dream come true, she bit her tongue, bought present for her boss’s amours, and assumed a bland front against the man’s womanizing.
She almost had him fooled—until he had the gall to reject her manuscript without even bothering to read it through, and he saw how interesting Miss Emma actually was.
Well, what followed is his pursuit of her, and her fall from grace (in my book), bur not because she gave in, but because she gave in to the oldest line in man-will-do/say-anything to get woman-to-sleep-with-him-history, “sleep with me or you’re not a true woman.”
I don’t mind some bodice ripping in my stories, but I do like it if the woman keeps her integrity in the process.