Teresa Medeiros is chummy with a lot of my favourite romance novelists, so I thought I’d give her books a go. The result has been…interesting.
Medeiros’s writing is exuberant and charming, but reading this was seriously like watching a Disney cartoon. It’s kind of fun, because Medeiros just goes for it, in a tongue-in-cheek way. Her hero is such a champ on the battlefield that the time his enemies stretched him on the rack he took the opportunity for a nap. Her heroine has a driving desire to be loved that is rather hammered home, but fun all the same.
Medeiros said she based her hero on this pic:
which makes him look sort of silly and gormless, though I’d probably add some of this:
for the full, smarmy effect. The biggest problem her hero faces is that his sperm is too potent… It’s a laugh, but a silly one.
I loved the very earthy, real element to the book – she uses the word piss a lot and doesn’t politely misunderstand the musky smell in the brothel’s cottage the way a Regency romance would do. But it was an odd read, because most of it was playful and naive, and read almost like a children’s book. Then suddenly there was desire and swelling in the breaches.
It was like reading Cindarella, but suddenly Prince Charming has a massive erection and pulls Cindy behind the pumpkin for some hot sex.
Disconcerting, to say the least.
Anyway, I didn’t actually finish it, because as fun as it was, this is really not my kind of book. The characters didn’t exist for anything but to be irresistible to each other and overcome their, er, extreme fertility so that they could be happy together.
I don’t doubt in the slightest that this is the perfect book for some people out there. (It’s mighty New York Times Bestseller Listdom would be a giveaway.)