TEST
Getting Dirty falls into the trap a lot of the books in Harlequin’s Dare line fall into, in that it wants to be daring and naughty but falls afoul of typical romance conventions. And the conventions it shows us aren’t that great, either.
Private dick Ash has been assigned to uncover the secrets of high society scandal center Lady Coco Lauren (yes, really). Coco’s brother Philip has hired Ash to expose his sister’s secrets, and since Coco is spending time in high-end sex clubs, that shouldn’t be too hard. It’s Ash’s job to get close to Coco – yes, like that AND not like that – and keep her from disgracing the family name.
Coco normally enjoys the kinky world of the sex club, but her grandmother is on the verge of death, and that’s put a bit of a damper on her Pants Feelings. If her granny finds out Coco’s been doing the deed in public with strangers, she’s worried she’ll lose the woman’s respect forever. But that doesn’t stop her from being attracted to Ash and wanting to bone him too.
For Ash and Coco, it’s horny at first sight; they have sex moments after meeting and soon settle into a not-quite-friends but lots of benefits relationship.
Yet something about Ash has Coco yearning for more. But Ash isn’t looking for romantic attachment – not after escaping his “stuck up bitch” of an ex, Jess (ugh). Can he convince himself that Coco isn’t Jess? Will Coco forgive Ash for lying to her about his true purpose in approaching her? And will Ash be able to figure out Phillip’s motives for wanting Coco investigated before it’s too late?
This is one of those Dare books where we’re introduced to something truly interesting – the heroine has been having sex at a sex club for months – which should lead somewhere complicated, or at least erotic. But the sex club feels like a piece of background information; aside from an unpracticed threesome, we hear that Coco’s been having fun there but we don’t get to see any of it.
Coco is bisexual and portrayed on-page as such, to my delight, and she seems like a nice girl. And I like the notion of a ‘nice girl’ still being written as a nice person who loves her grandma while getting metaphorically tag-teamed by muscular football players. But I tire ever so much of heroines who are using sex to mask the pain of wanting a traditional, white picket fence romance. What’s wrong with wanting to be sexually adventurous AND romantic? And if she’s so afraid of being caught having indiscriminate public sex, why not hire sex workers or develop a small, close-knit ‘play’ group that won’t snitch to the press?
Ash, meanwhile, for all of his talk about principled behavior and nonstop sweating about his double agency, is a dick about his ex-girlfriend and “high class” women, who must all be stuck up and evil like the unfortunate Jess. This still isn’t a fun trope, romance authors, and I also tire of the ‘you aren’t my evil ex, baby’ Garbo treatment of other women in narratives like this. That severely affected my enjoyment of his character.
Ash and Coco have decent, high-quality banter, and their sex is top notch, but I failed to see how they might make great long term partners. They like and are wildly attracted to one another, sure – it’s why this novel isn’t a D-grade one – but what, in the end, does a private detective have in common with a woman like Coco? We don’t get much time to figure out the answer to that one.
So much attributed behavior goes down in this novel. We don’t get to see Coco with her grandma – in fact the only time we really spend with the woman she’s unconscious in the ICU – but we hear about it. A lot. We hear about Coco’s charity work, but don’t see it. Phillip’s pat motive is as predictable as you imagine it might be.
Sparkly character chemistry keeps this one from being a dud, but the book’s compressed page length really gets in the way of the story. Getting Dirty’s dirtiest work is how short a shrift the characters are given by the plot.
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Grade: C-
Book Type: Contemporary Romance
Sensuality: Warm
Review Date: 21/12/19
Publication Date: 02/2020
Recent Comments …
Yep
This sounds delightful! I’m grabbing it, thanks
excellent book: interesting, funny dialogs, deep understanding of each character, interesting secondary characters, and also sexy.
I don’t think anyone expects you to post UK prices – it’s just a shame that such a great sale…
I’m sorry about that. We don’t have any way to post British prices as an American based site.
I have several of her books on my TBR and after reading this am moving them up the pile.
Lisa Fernandes is a writer, reviewer and recapper who lives somewhere on the East Coast. Formerly employed by Firefox.org and Next Projection, she also currently contributes to Women Write About Comics. Read her blog at http://thatbouviergirl.blogspot.com/, follow her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/thatbouviergirl or contribute to her Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/MissyvsEvilDead or her Ko-Fi at ko-fi.com/missmelbouvier
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Love the “shower cap” comment, Nan! Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
Overall, I’ve been disappointed with the Dare line. I’ve said before that I find the issues that divide the couples to be simultaneously both overblown and too easily resolved. And a lot of the sex scenes seem very clinical with no true sense of passion. That being said, I do think several of Caitlin Crews’s Dare books have been quite good (her Hotel Temptation series, and THE RISK, her contribution to Dare’s BILLIONAIRES CLUB series) and I also liked Jackie Ashenden’s Kings of Sidney series. But overall I’d say I think it’s a damn shame that Harlequin discontinued the Blaze line (which published a number of quite hot, well-written books—including several by Cara McKenna writing under the name of Meg Maguire) in order to dip their toe into supposedly hotter waters, when so much of the line if rather blah and lukewarm.
Thanks, DiscoDollyDeb. When I first saw the pink on the thumbnail, I wondered, “Oh? Is that a turban or are they in the shower together?” Then when I enlarged it, it still screamed “shower cap” to me, which was confusing until I saw the logo.
“And a lot of the sex scenes seem very clinical with no true sense of passion.” I wonder if that’s because of Harlequin’s vague instructions that submissions must be hot but not erotic. Where is that magical dividing line for Harlequin? And I say this as a self-published erotica author. Also, I don’t know what other projects the authors in the Dare line might be working on, but maybe they’re still trying to get a feel for this new format. Who knows?
P.S. If you haven’t seen me on SBTB, it’s because I think I got kicked off for sure this time. So thanks for tipping me off to AARs existence. I wouldn’t have any place to post romance/erotica comments otherwise.
I didn’t care much for JC Harroway’s THE PROPOSITION (full of tell-not-show and vertigo-inducing about-faces on the characters’ parts), but it did include two things I don’t believe I’ve encountered in a Dare book before (keeping in mind that I haven’t read every Dare book): use of the c-word (in a positive, not pejorative, way) and reference to anal sex and butt plugs. So perhaps whatever Dare’s line in the sand is, it’s beyond those elements.
“reference to anal sex and butt plugs” I think your use of the word “reference” is probably the dividing line. I take it that the characters didn’t actually engage in those acts on-page? Maybe the author had to tell rather than show because of Harlequin’s restrictions? Case in point, recently, I finished reading the Harlequin Intrigue titles “Renegade Protector” and “Undercover Justice,” both by Nico Rosso, and I got the distinct impression he was holding back on some of the violence and got a little heavy handed in the morality department (telling, rather than showing) because of publisher standards. Even so, I enjoyed them immensely. You might enjoy them too if you’re in the mood for a couple of vigilante romances.
I appreciate that a romance novel these days can use c*** in a positive way. We really do live in a changing world. George Carlin often said he believed in the entirety of the English language, and how there were no bad words, only bad contexts. It’s nice to see that Romancelandia is moving in that direction. (Not that every romance novel must include explicit sexual language!)
I think you’re right: the characters talked about having anal sex and using butt plugs, but I don’t recall any actual on-page activity.
Some of the Crews and Ashdens have indeed be pretty good.
Thanks for writing this review, Ms. Fernandes. I haven’t read any Harlequin Dare books because of some of the head-scratching descriptions/plots/set-ups. With the understanding that I’m just looking at this as a snoopy outsider rather than a Harlequin insider, maybe I can explain some of the quirks in the presentation.
First, I believe Dare is Harlequin’s newest category romance line. Harlequin does not accept erotica or erotic romance, except through their imprint Carina Press. To me, it seems like they created this category to just dip their toes into racier content. So if the books seem wonky and experimental, I suspect it’s because the line is still in that newbie stage as opposed to more established lines.
Second, the sex club is a backdrop rather than an erotic setting because Harlequin explicitly forbids erotic romance and erotica submissions. (Well, I suppose you *could* submit them if you are eager for an automatic rejection.) Yes, even their so-called “Dare” line clearly states in their submission guidelines that they must contain hot sex scenes but not be erotic. Only “light” BDSM is allowed to be depicted on-page. Where they draw the line on this, who can say?
I’m with you on combining sexual adventure with romance. I think there’s this misconception out there that each couple in romance has to have sex in a certain way all the time. I.e. If there is a scene of wild, animalistic passion, the sex *always* has to be depicted that way henceforth. Why not have some variety? Sometimes characters might be wild, other times tender. Variety is the spice of life!
On a final note, the logo on this book makes it look like the hero is wearing a pink shower cap.
I’m definitely aware they’ve gotta balance the romance out with the erotica, but there’s gotta be a better way to go “Heroine is happily sexually active but oh no! Emotions!” I’ve SEEN it done better by other authors so, IDK.
And I’m definitely not presuming they should have the same kinda sex the same way every time – my problem, like I said in the review, is the notion that Coco has done so much sexing around the club that her reputation might be in shambles shout it get out, but it’s all a cover for the Lost Little Romantic Girl Inside. I’m so tired of that cliche.
“Coco has done so much sexing around the club that her reputation might be in shambles shout it get out, but it’s all a cover for the Lost Little Romantic Girl Inside. I’m so tired of that cliché.” Ah, I see. Although I think the cliché could be done well depending on how it is written. Some people do have a lot of wild running around sex because they are hurting inside, which could make for a good story, but it sounds like the idea was badly handled in this book.
As for the variety in sex scenes, I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t want them. I was talking about how *some* readers have trouble with sexual variety in characters. I remember someone saying in a writer tips video, “You have to be consistent! If you create a beta male, he can’t be dragging the heroine around by the hair in the bedroom.” And I thought, “Really? Wouldn’t that depend on the context? I mean, a sweet, gentle man might feel dominant in the bedroom and likewise, an alpha male might give into an inner tenderness and sweetness in the heroine’s arms.” That was more what I was talking about. Also the idea that sex between the same couple might be wild one time and romantic another without it being “inconsistent.” It was more of a comment directed toward those kinds of rigid attitudes, not what you wrote in your review. :)
Yep, I can assure you it’s not well-done here!
Ahh, I see.
I think the slippery content slope is indeed their biggest problem though. Voyeurism, but no menage; anal, but no dp. That kinda thing.
“I think the slippery content slope is indeed their biggest problem though.” Yeah, Harlequin has a tough act to balance. On the one hand, they produce a lot of Love Inspired titles and on the other hand, they’re trying to tap into a market of romance readers who want things a lot steamier. I suppose if they opened an explicitly erotic romance line under the Harlequin name, they could potentially offend their more conservative readers to the point of sales-crushing boycotts. That’s why, psychologically, imprints might be a good idea in this case. Carina Press, for example, welcomes submissions of erotic romance. And both Avon and Carina Press produce LGBT+ content. So, I guess you could say they’re having their cake and eating it too.
When one wants to be everything to everyone, you’re going to see some content gaps.