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 Renee Michel is, at first glance, a nondescript middle-aged concierge of an apartment building in Paris. But she cultivates that image, and underneath her purposely plain exterior is a quick, intelligent brain. She uses her job as a way to hide her vibrant interest in philosophy, books, movies, and beauty. Upstairs lives a 12-year-old girl named Paloma who has determined to kill herself on her thirteenth birthday because she cannot handle being so disdained and undervalued. Both of their lives are set on a collision course when one of the upstairs neighbors falls ill and everything in the apartment building begins to change.
It’s hard to review a book in which I really disliked the first 100 pages and loved the following 200. At first it just seemed consumed with philosophy. Nothing was happening, Renee was constantly musing about things I don’t understand or particularly care about, and Paloma was completely doom and gloom about her life and her family. Honestly, I don’t like philosophy and never have. It just seems like a lot of musing about nothing particularly interesting. And then the neighbor died, and someone else moved in who changed everything. And somehow the characters’ musings became about life, and love, and missed opportunities, and caring what you do in the world. They became more relevant and more interesting.
It’s hard to go on without spoiling why this book became great. It’s when the characters collide that it happens, and they recognize in themselves people that are just like them. It’s a shout-out against the class system and defies Renee’s idea that because she began life as a poor woman, that rich people will always harm her and take advantage of her. It does its little bit to show that people are all just people and we never know what’s going on in someone else’s head. I’m not sure the ending didn’t really take away that message, that association with rich people will harm poor people, but it really moved me. It made me wonder if Barbery was reflecting on the way things are in France at the moment. I’ve never been there, so I don’t know how strong the class system still is, but reviews online (and this book) seem to suggest that it is still very present.
Anyway, I would really recommend The Elegance of the Hedgehog, I’d just suggest to stick to it a little longer than you might a normal book. It’s fairly short, but it is quite a touching journey.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review from the publisher.
 To my surprise, my copy of 84 Charing Cross Road included The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street as well, so I figured I’d review them both together, as they sort of go together anyway.
In a search for rare books, writer Helene Hanff pens a letter to Marks & Co. booksellers in London, hoping that they’ll have what she so desires. Her initial letter sparks two decades of communication between her and the employees of the bookstore, particularly Frank Doel, who answers that letter and becomes a dear penpal to her. In The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, Hanff finally makes a trip to London to promote the newly published 84 Charing Cross Road, visiting all the sights which had become familiar to her through the letters and through films.
It was almost inevitable that this book would let me down. My expectations were so, so high, given that this is a book for book lovers and countless people assured me that if I loved The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, I would love this too. And I did, but not as much, which was in itself disappointing. Yes, it is a totally charming and endearing story. I loved when Hanff grew so fond of the London employees that she sent them packages of hard-to-get items just after World War II when everything was still rationed. The time period felt real to me through these people that had lived through it. And of course this is certainly a book for book lovers, as Hanff’s passion for them especially shines through and definitely makes me feel like I should be reading all the books she’d read.
Unfortunately, though, I found Hanff slightly abrasive. She had a strange habit of suddenly writing in lower case, which I just didn’t understand, and she seemed to me very much like a loud American stereotype, particularly in comparison to the more somber British writers. I think I would have preferred more letters, too. There were gaps of years between some of the letters, and clearly there had been some correspondence over those years because they’d reply to one another. I kept feeling like I was missing something, and the book was so short that more letters could have been included easily.
I feel like there’s something wrong with me because I didn’t love this as much as everyone else does. All those five star reviews, everyone saying that book lovers can’t not love this book – well, clearly I should have waited and let my expectations die down a bit! There’s also the fact that the ending was spoiled for me by the back cover, which I almost never read but in this case did. That certainly hurt the book as it robbed me of the true emotional impact it could have had.
It was with a little bit of surprise that I then found myself loving the second book, The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street. I’d hardly heard of this one, as everyone focuses on the first. But here, Hanff actually travels to London, even though she’s just had a hysterectomy and is in considerable pain. Watching her discover London – and England – was like doing it for myself all over again. And if you don’t think I got as excited and moved as she did, just ask my husband, who was there (and confused by me) for most of it!
Is it strange that I related far more to her passion for British history than I did to her passion for books? Because I certainly did. She’s a very different reader than me, and I’m sure that has something to do with it. In any case, there is something magical about a place you’ve read about in history books coming to life, and I could palpably feel her excitement. I know what it’s like to walk along paths I’d previously only dreamed of walking on, places where history that I love happened, where writers that I love wrote, where generations of other people have sat and dreamed and thought and changed the world. It’s awe-inspiring, and that’s what I loved about this book. I can still remember that thrilling first vision of green that was England from my plane window and there Hanff and I turned out to have quite a bit in common after all. And I found her visit to Marks & Co extremely moving – it closes down by the time she finally gets to see it – and her visits with her correspondents were touching and sweet. I liked her a lot better in this second book and I wonder now if I should reread the first with this new perspective.
Both of these books are worth your time. Don’t let expectations get to you and take it as it comes – and DON’T read the back cover!
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased these books.
I like the mini review format so much that I’m going to use it for a lot of my romance reading. In general, I don’t have enough to say about these books to generate a full review, and I like to clear out my review backlog, so I’ll be posting a set of four mini reviews every time I’ve finished four books!
 To Wed a Wicked Prince, Jane Feather
Prince Alex Prokov is an intriguing, compelling man and captivates Lady Livia Lacey from their very first meeting. What she doesn’t realize is that he is foremost intending to inspect her house, legally his because the eccentric woman who left it to Livia was his mother, and claim it if necessary. He finds Livia interesting enough to marry her instead, but their relationship is a minefield of secrets and half-truths. Will their love sustain them through Alex’s lies?
I was less than enchanted with this book. I liked the atmosphere, but Alex’s lies drove me up the wall. I could see that if he’d only told Livia the truth, practically all the bad things that happen to them in the novel would have been solved. I could see why he’d kept secrets about his activities, but about his mother’s identity? Not so much. Furthermore, he is very domineering, even wishing to get rid of Livia’s faithful servants despite the fact that they were first his mother’s. He’s just so hard to relate to and in the end I couldn’t figure out why Livia loved him. I did like her character, though, as I really like the more independent heroines as non-historical as they may be. Overall, this book was “eh” for me. Not a compelling plot, some irritating characters, and not enough genuine historical detail or good writing to override its faults.
 Compromised, Kate Noble
I’ve been looking forward to Kate Noble’s books for a good long time, ever since I heard about her on The Book Smugglers. In this, her debut, the Alton sisters have just returned from the Continent, new stepmother in tow, and it’s time for their first Season. Bookish Gail has no interest in a Season, however, and as an attempt to placate her, her father gives her a horse. That horse leads her to a gentleman, Maximillian, Viscount Fontaine, with whom she ends up in a lake, and who absolutely infuriates her. Things don’t get much better when that man is found in a compromising position with her sister – and they get worse when Gail starts to fall in love with him and vice versa.
I definitely had fun with this book. Gail’s interactions with Max sparkle and I could totally believe that they loved one another by the end. And I felt like they really knew each other before they hopped into bed, which is pretty much the standard by which I judge romances, especially historical ones. I like to read about love, not just lust. Anyway, probably the only thing that irritated me here was that Gail is quite a stereotype. There are so many books with the bookish heroine who shuns society, who doesn’t think she’s pretty, blah blah. She does get along with people eventually because she has issues, she’s not shy, but I don’t understand why a heroine can’t be bookish and still like to spend time with people occasionally right off the bat. I will also confess that I was largely drawn to this book by the cover, which is refreshingly not sexual and has the prettiest yellow dress on it. I’m not shallow at all, no.
 Crazy for You, Jennifer Crusie
When Quinn McKenzie meets a little dog she names Katie, she decides her life has to change. She’s gone along with everything her too nice boyfriend wants, with what her parents want, and has generally been the fixer of the family. She’s bored of her life and she’s had enough. When her boyfriend sends the puppy to the pound, she decides to leave him, and begins encouraging everyone to make little changes to make their lives better. She has no idea what she’s about to inflict on her family and friends.
I suspect all of Crusie’s novels are this delightful. While this has a similar premise to Welcome to Temptation, the other book by her that I read, it’s still totally charming. I loved Quinn and I was 100% behind her. Any guy who takes a puppy to be killed when his girlfriend has fallen in love with it probably deserves to be dumped. And after that boyfriend’s further behavior, I completely sympathized with her. I really enjoyed the love story and all the little tangents that followed, too. I can’t wait to read more of Crusie’s books. I hope they’re all this fun.
 Miss Wonderful, Loretta Chase
Alistair Carsington took great pleasure in falling love with women before he was involved in the Battle of Waterloo, where he nearly lost his life. Since his return, he has become obsessed with clothes to the detriment of everything else. Seeking activity and income, Alistair joins his friend’s scheme to build a canal through Derbyshire, and heads there to persuade the locals of the brilliance of his plan. Miss Mirabel Oldridge, practically on the shelf, is fiercely resistant of a canal cutting its way through her land, but soon she and Alistair realize they’re not particularly good at resisting each other.
This book wasn’t very memorable – I read it yesterday and I’ve already forgotten most of it. It struck me as a fairly typical romance. I liked that Mirabel was older and independent and had had a past with another man. I’d call it an enjoyable read but not much else.
As I just skimmed this post (which I put together over maybe a month), I realized that none of the covers are your typical half-naked embrace. I know British covers are way, way more conservative in this regard, but it doesn’t explain the two American ones. I am really, really tired of the endless parade of half-naked men and women on romance covers, and apparently I am showing my resistance by choosing books that don’t have it.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased these books or borrowed them from my local library.
 This graphic memoir depicts the childhood of Marjane Satrapi during and after the Islamic Revolution in Iran. She remembers when she first was required to wear a headscarf, when school changed, when she learned the danger of protesting, among many other things in a rapidly changing world. Interspersed with the severity of the revolution is the fact that the author was definitely a child; she was jealous of other people’s fathers because they’d been in prison and become “heroes” with cool stories, for example, and she decides that she wants to be a prophet. With simply drawn black-and-white pictures, this memoir successfully reminds us that people in Iran are still people like us, only living in far different circumstances.
I loved The House of the Mosque, which I read last week, and then Dawn at She is Too Fond of Books recommended this one in a review, and Andrea at Canongate Books left me a comment saying she had this one as well. I’d heard of it before, but this all just seemed like huge incentive to read it now. So naturally, I went to the library and took it out immediately, and it’s so short that I managed to read it the same day.
I really enjoyed it. I felt like Persepolis dealt with tough issues but had that human touch throughout. I appreciated the author’s mission to show us that Iran is more than terrorism and weapons, it’s an ancient culture with real people. It certainly has problems now, but there’s no reason to forget its past and the fact that all the people who live there are not exactly thrilled with their own government. The author, for example, is thrilled when her parents smuggle her modern posters, clothes, and a Michael Jackson button, only for her to get in trouble when women who are more committed to the new government see her in her new jeans and jacket.
I even liked the black-and-white drawings. They’re quite simplistic but Satrapi shows individuality with small touches and conveys emotion with them quite effectively. There is some violence depicted, but it’s not realistic enough to bother anyone, just enough to show that it must have been horrible.
Overall, Persepolis is a book I’d definitely recommend. It’s a fast and even enjoyable read that really touches on important – even essential – issues about the world today. I’m definitely interested in reading its sequel and hope my library has that one, too.
I am an Amazon Associate. I borrowed this book from my local library.
 Or, the problem with older romance novels.
Belliane, better known as Lianna, is a Frenchwoman determined to keep her castle in Normandy at all costs. But Henry V is invading, and he wants to marry her to Enguerrand of England, both to promote his friend and make life easier for himself. In protest, Lianna marries a Frenchman, but meets Rand not knowing who he is. Lianna and Rand both lie to one another and begin to fall in love – until Lianna’s husband dies and marriage goes on as planned. Both betrayed in the midst of battle, Lianna and Rand must decide what really matters to them, love or country.
I almost gave up this book on every other page. I don’t honestly know why I kept going. It has all my least favorite aspects of a romance novel. These two lust after one another and suddenly decide it’s love. Their lies are the foundation for almost everything bad that happens to them, and they don’t forgive one another even though of course they have to sleep with each other all the time. Because when you’re furious with someone, you really want to have sex with them. Yep. And Lianna is almost too unconventional to be true; how many noble ladies went around in the smocks of poor women with their hair down and learned to shoot newfangled guns? Sure, it’s a war, but I just found it very hard to believe. Besides that, she’s too stupid to live. She doesn’t realize the French guy she’s marrying is a slimeball, she walks straight into at least two traps, and she leaves her baby in the care of the wife of slimeball’s son. She’s basically the cause of ALL the relationship problems as Rand is completely lovesick.
The love story was the most disappointing one I’ve read in a long time, and the characters had dialogue I couldn’t imagine anyone saying. It’s too corny, too impassioned, too ridiculous. Very few romances are historically accurate in this respect, but I have to at least believe in the chemistry to put all that aside. And here I did not. Reading this book helped me realize how people could easily disdain the genre.
I do have to give the author a little respect, though, because her history is largely accurate. All the hallmarks of Henry V’s campaign and Agincourt are here, and all in all once Lianna and Rand are married and stop stripping every five seconds the book doesn’t suffer quite so much. The only part that annoyed me with the history was the constant mentions of chivalry, and it’s clear that the author doesn’t quite understand that chivalry == war for medieval knights. It’s not the Victorian always-be-nice-to-ladies idea. That’s only a tiny part of it. Being violent is being chivalric. That’s the point. All medieval romances aren’t this bad; I just read Scoundrel’s Kiss and enjoyed it a lot. The Lily and the Leopard just reinforces all the stereotypes. When you seriously hope there isn’t going to be a happy ending because you hate the characters, you know you have a problem. Yuck.
No Amazon link; the book is out of print. And that’s a good thing. I bought this one so you don’t have to.
 I’ve had some inspiring success with my reading this week. I’ve been diligently reading A Suitable Boy, which I’m really enjoying. There are a few political parts that are slightly boring, but it’s such a small fraction of such a huge book, and I’ve found myself feeling like I’m living in India with all the characters. I’m discovering that I really like books about changing cultures; they’re exposing the cracks and trying to figure out who they are. In this book, the British have fairly recently pulled out of India, many of the families were partitioned away from their homes thanks to the creation of Pakistan, and the countryside hierarchy is about to change completely thanks to new legislation. And, of course, there is Lata’s (and her mother’s) struggle to find “a suitable boy” in a changing India. It’s so interesting and enjoyable, but I’m going through it slowly. I figure I’ll get frustrated if I go days without finishing any books, so I’ve been reading lighter books alongside it. It is nice to live in a book for a while though. and I’m thrilled that I have another of Vikram Seth’s books hanging around for when I’ve finished.
I also have had some lovely book acquisitions this weekend. My mother-in-law gave me a bookstore gift card for my birthday, so I had a lovely time selecting 84, Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff, Arthur & George by Julian Barnes, Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold, and The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon. I’ve already read the first one and should have a review this week. I also was inspired by The House of the Mosque and Dawn at She Is Too Fond of Books to read Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi and get another perspective on the Islamic Revolution in Iran. I really enjoyed that, too. So this week I read my first non-fiction of the year, my first graphic novel of the year, and my first classic of the year, which was The Custom of the Country by Edith Wharton. In short, I am accomplishing my goals to diversify my reading so far, and I hope I can keep it up!
I hope to get a lot read this week, as Keith is headed off for 3 days away to start his new job, and I’ve finished the game I was playing on my Xbox 360. I’ve been thinking of reviewing the games when I finish them – if others can review film and TV, I don’t see why I can’t review games, and I will probably complete less than one a month – but I haven’t decided yet. I haven’t worked out how to knit and read at the same time, but we still watch enough TV and movies to give me plenty of time for both. Next Sunday I will be in the air heading home for a couple of weeks, so posting may be slightly more sporadic as I haven’t as many scheduled posts these days. In any case, I hope you all have a lovely week and a good book to keep you company!
 Aqa Jaan’s family has lived in the house of the mosque for centuries. Two of his cousins also live in the house; one is the mosque’s imam and the other is the muezzin. At first glimpse, their lives are going about as they have been for hundreds of years; television exists, but the house’s inhabitants studiously avoid it, and the women still cover themselves even though others in Tehran no longer bother. The family’s daughters are waiting for respectable men to approach their families to offer marriage, and the imam’s son is studying diligently to take his father’s place when he dies. Yet all is not the same, as a revolution is forming in 1970s Iran, and that revolution stands to change the family’s ways forever.
I found this book totally fascinating. I know so little of Iran, let alone what it’s like to live there, and I really felt like this book put me right in the midst of a revolution. Enough of their culture was established so that I felt terror and confusion just as the house’s residents did, and I was amazed at what some of the family was capable of doing for political purposes. It was all in the name of Islam, which makes it worse for me. I could see today’s political situation in the making, and it made me so sad that Iran couldn’t have continued on its former path of slow liberation without becoming extremists and closing up completely. The book does reveal how things can spiral out of control, without the people necessarily giving consent or realizing what they are doing. A few extremists can change the entire country given just a little encouragement, and that’s exactly what happens here.
My favorite character in the book was definitely Aqa Jaan. It’s predicted early in the novel that he’ll be the last one left of the family, and indeed this seems to be the case as his family either become extremists or become targets in the revolution, or simply disappear of their own volition. His emotions are often heartbreaking and I wished things could be different for him as his family began to fall apart. This is such a stunning novel of a country falling apart; it’s almost as though Aqa Jaan’s family is a microcosm of that, split between all the different factions, while he just wants life to remain as it has been for hundreds of years.
There is a lot of anti-Americanism here, but given the political circumstances, it’s understandable and didn’t put me off the book despite the fact that I am American. I also was left wondering how much of the book is true. The author, who fled Iran in 1988, was an illegal journalist and leftist there, and I expect much of the revolution was witnessed by him first-hand. He’s using a pen name here to honor executed friends (though his own name is available on wikipedia) and he dedicates the book to his own Aqa Jaan, so my curiosity is definitely piqued.
Honestly, I can’t recommend this book highly enough. It inspires me to read more non-fiction to learn more about the conflict and to read more multi-cultural fiction. This book helped me understand what’s happening in the world today and still engaged all of my emotions and thoughts. You should not miss The House of the Mosque.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free from the publisher for review.
 Do you read the inside flaps that describe a book before or while reading it?
I haven’t done a Booking Through Thursday question in a long time! And the answer is no, I don’t. I really, really hate spoilers. I prefer to know pretty much nothing about a book going into it. I used to read the flaps or back cover because I didn’t have an effective way of getting recommendations, but I am always irritated when I’m halfway through a book and the events on the back cover haven’t happened yet. I prefer to go into a book knowing virtually nothing about its contents. Maybe a general idea of what it’s about, where it’s set, that sort of thing, really as vague as possible. I like to know that others thought it was good and worth a read, but really books work best when they’re left to unfold on their own.
I do occasionally read the flaps after I’ve finished, but I generally find that they’re getting more spoilery as time goes on. Maybe that’s just because my hatred of spoilers is growing, but this is why I write my own summaries. I try to give as little away as possible, but I know other people would probably like to know what a book is about, so I do continue to include that first paragraph of summary.
This is my first time participating in this meme, hosted by Alyce of At Home with Books. Since it’s Edith Wharton’s turn on the Classics Circuit and I’ll be bringing you a review of one of her books, The Custom of the Country, later this month, I decided to feature my favorite, The Age of Innocence.
I adore this book. I was frustrated in high school by a lack of new reads. I liked mostly the same stuff as I do now, but there was a whole lot more romance and fantasy reading going on then, as I needed a lot of comfort with all the angst and drama that goes hand in hand with teenagerhood. I think eventually I wanted something a little deeper. I don’t remember how my teacher recommended Edith Wharton to me. I read a lot of great books through her senior year; she gave us both fascinating modern literature and a great selection of classics, and I often wish I owned more of the books we read that year so I could give them a try as an older reader. I know I started with Ethan Frome and loved that. Then I moved on to this, and I really liked it on the first reading. Eventually we had to choose a book to write a research paper on, and I decided to go with this one.
It was only digging through it and isolating its themes that I completely fell in love with it. This happens to me a lot, because apparently whenever I pick a book apart and it holds up to my digging, it becomes a favorite. I love the image of the restrained New York society and how Newland is inspired so deeply by Ellen Olenska to realize just how stifled he is, but struggles with the conflict between his passion and his duty. Edith Wharton’s writing is beautiful and brings me deeply into this novel every time I read it. And, this may constitute a spoiler so skip the rest of this paragraph if you haven’t read it, I love the ending, although I was devastated the first time. I thought it was perfect for the story as a teenager and that view has remained the same. It’s a gorgeous, tragic novel that simply astonishes me. It’s a book that I want to start again every time I read it.
This is actually one of my top two of all time. The other is Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. This is why I should read more classics!
 Mary Toliver DuMont knows she is dying. When she looks back on her life and reflects on all the mistakes she’s made, she chooses to sell her family’s huge farm rather than leave it to her great-niece as Rachel is expecting. In this multi-generational saga, the characters take us back through their lives to the beginning of many of their problems so that the conclusion becomes understandable. This family has experienced it all, and their mistakes may prevent the happiness of the newest generation.
I often love sagas of this variety and Roses was not really an exception. There’s little better than investing yourself in several hundred pages of a fictional family’s complicated and generally tragic life. Here the central tragedy is that Mary Toliver and Percy Warwick don’t marry, even though they are clearly the loves of each other’s lives, due to misunderstandings and mistakes. Those resonate throughout the book and influence decisions made by all the characters throughout.
These families are descended through Lancastrian and Yorkist immigrants to the United States and as a result use a system of roses to signal forgiveness (and unforgiveness) to one another. I have to admit I rolled my eyes a little at this, as it just seems way too sentimental for real life, but it works really well as a device within the story, so I got used to it very quickly and appreciated how the author wove it in, making the title perfectly appropriate for the book. I also really liked the characters for the most part, especially Percy; Mary and Rachel were slightly too abrasive for me to love them, but I still liked them.
Despite the fact that I was swept up in the story and really enjoyed it, I have to say I had an issue with the central reason for frustration. Everyone blames everything on Somerset, and it seemed to me what really happened was that the characters made bad decisions. Getting rid of the land would not have solved their problems, talking would. I could definitely understand the issue an early twentieth century southern magnate would have had with his wife out in the fields all day, but I do think there’s such a thing as compromise. Mary and Percy are just too stubborn to have things their own way.
Roses is a saga in a great tradition, but it’s not a perfect one. Still, if you enjoy reading about strong characters and don’t mind a little bit of tragedy and suspending belief, this would be a wonderful choice. I’d also suggest it to people who enjoyed Dallas on TV – the Texas feel is so similar here.
I am an Amazon Associate, so if you purchase books through my links I will earn a tiny percentage of the profit at no cost to you. Thanks! I received this book for free from the publisher.
 Yesterday, I reviewed Carrie’s newest book, Scoundrel’s Kiss. I also had the pleasure of interviewing her recently and I hope you all enjoy the answers as much as I did!
1. I loved that Scoundrel’s Kiss was set outside the typical locations for a historical romance. Why did you choose to set it in medieval Spain?
It’s set in the Kingdom of Castile, which comprises part of modern-day Spain. Thinking back, I don’t remember exactly what first started me thinking about Spain as a setting, but I knew I wanted to feature two elements to this story: a warrior monk and an opium addict. That meant I needed to find a place where their love could blossom. Spain was not only a hotbed of religious and military activity in the 13th century, but it was also along Arab trade routes. The Arabs traded with the Chinese, which mean that opium was available for purchase in Spain. Ta-dah! I’d found my setting.
2. Ada is a far cry from the average blushing virgin heroine. Was it a difficult task for you to make an opium addict a sympathetic character?
Yes, Ada is…trying. It was difficult making her sympathetic, in that I disliked how Ada behaved toward the finale of my Robin Hood-themed debut, WHAT A SCOUNDREL WANTS. She makes her sister, Meg, make a really unfair choice, and her behavior is downright selfish. So I wasn’t in a sympathetic place when I sat down to write her love story. But then I remembered an old saying about villains: the villain is the hero of his own story. That jolted me into taking Ada’s side, so to speak, and learning where she was vulnerable, why she was hurting so desperately, and how I could help redeem her. In the end, I think her happily ever after is justly deserved, if only for how hard she works at earning it.
3. When it comes to writing, do you plot out your books carefully or does the story come to you as you go?
I start with the setting. Always. Then I research and brainstorm in tandem, trying to find my characters. What sort of people *could* have lived in this time and place? Are they native? Just passing through? There for the long haul? Bored and desperate to get out? Once I have the setting and the characters very firm in my mind, then I start writing and never look back. You could call me a prepared pantser!
4. Do you have a particular favorite time period in history?
I’ll always have a fondness for the American Old West. I did my master’s thesis on the lives and legends of Jesse James and Wild Bill Hickok, and how their stories helped shape American culture after the Civil War. Plus I was a sucker for western-set romances when I was a teenager, back when they were *everywhere*. I haven’t yet tried my hand at a western of my own, but I can’t help but think that I will someday. That period of history has been such a part of my life!
 5. Are you planning on returning to any of the characters in Scoundrel’s Kiss for another book? What’s next for you?
I’d like to continue with Jacob’s story, and then to find a partner for Blanca, but that remains to be seen. Otherwise, my historical romance set in Napoleonic Austria will help launch Carina Press, Harlequin’s new all-digital venture, in June. In it, a widowed violin prodigy begins a steamy affair with the renowned composer she’s always idolized, only to learn that he stole the symphony he’s most famous for. In addition, I’m co-writing with Ann Aguirre under the name Ellen Connor (http://EllenConnor.com). We write hot-n-dirty apocalyptic paranormal romances, and our “Dark Age Dawning” trilogy will be coming soon from Penguin.
6. What do you suggest we read while waiting for your next book? Any favorites you’d like to share with us?
I love lush, beautiful writing, so my favorite romance authors are Candice Procter, Penelope Williamson, Laura Kinsale, and Patricia Gaffney. They all craft such amazing stories, not simply packed with emotion and fascinating characters, but with poetic language to describe every aspect of the hero and heroine’s lives. I read those books and knew that’s what I wanted to write. Those are the kinds of stories I love to read, so why not give them a try in my own style with my own unique voice? I’d unabashedly recommend any of their books to those who haven’t yet read them!
Thanks for stopping by, Carrie!
To win a copy of Scoundrel’s Kiss for your very own, just leave a comment. There is one up for grabs. Readers in the US and Canada will receive a signed copy, whereas international readers will receive an unsigned copy from the Book Depository. Make sure you leave a valid email address in the “email” field of the comment form to win. This contest will be open until January 26th. Good luck! The winner of this contest is Lana.
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