TEST
Isobel Carr’s debut romance has an unusual heroine in Viola Whedon. Viola, an extravagantly beautiful woman with tumbling red-gold curls, has been one of London’s most sought after courtesans for the past decade. She is currently on the outs with her protector – he was incensed when he discovered she planned to include him in the second volume of her memoir. The first one, already published, is a favored read of the scandal hungry ton. Viola hopes the money from the second will keep her “in coal and lobster patties for years to come” as she is ready to leave the mistress business behind.
Viola, at age 27, senses her days as a top “fashionable impure” are behind her, and that without a career change she’ll slip into common whoredom. She, despite having spread her legs for money for ten years, never wanted to be even an uncommon whore. (When she was just 15, she eloped. He died, both families shunned her, and as is so often the case in historical romance, young widowed Viola was too lovely to be hired for anything else.) Even worse, she doesn’t usually enjoy the sex inherent to her profession, because “the ones worth bedding were never the ones who could afford to keep her.”
The hero, Lord Leonidas Vaughn, gorgeous and famed to be fabulous in bed, is definitely worth bedding. Sadly he is a second son — the title of this series is The League of Second Sons – and he needs to marry money. Leo meets Viola when violent thugs break into her house in the middle of the night. She runs out into the street, terrified, begging for help, and Leo just happens to be there. He saves her, cases her house to make sure it’s bad guy free, and smoldering with lust, returns her to her bed alone. The next day, he calls on her, and oh so sexily offers her his physical protection in exchange for the opportunity to seduce her. She, aquiver with desire, manages to wait a day or two before saying yes, and their sizzling affair begins.
Neither Viola, Leo, nor their affair did much for me.
In the beginning of the book, Viola is essentially a witty, elegant, money-grubbing slut. Once she gives up the slut part — Leo doesn’t give her a penny — she’s still fairly focused on her creature comforts. At one point, whilst Leo is seducing her in his sumptuous velvet cushioned carriage, she points out the stocking he’s just pulled off her — with his teeth — cost twelve shilling a pair. (They were expensive stockings; today they’d cost over $60.) Viola has a group of friends — all wealthy fallen women — but I didn’t sense she really cared for them. Other than Leo, her closest relationship is with a mangy but miraculously flea-free dog she adopts. (The dog didn’t work for me either. Pen, an oversized hound, is a cutesy prop rather than an connected piece of the story.)
Leo, despite his sexy mismatching eyes (he has one blue and one green) isn’t my kind of guy. For much of the book, he lies to Viola about why he’s really pursuing her. He is supposedly bonded to his League of fellow second sons, but those friendships seem like sketches rather than relationships. He’s charming but not interesting. He seduces Viola because he desperately needs money yet he squanders that which he does have with very little care. He is ambivalent about most of his choices and seems oddly modern despite his Georgian background. He isn’t, until perhaps the novel’s end, a responsible adult.
Leo and Viola have oodles of steamy coitus, yet their physical relationship has so little emotional undergirding it is more porn than passion. They bed one another and then fall madly in love because they’ve bedded one another. There’s no felt connection between the two. Yes, they have grand and varied sex. Yes, they are both striving to remain in the world of the work-free wealthy. And yes, they’re both gorgeous, smart, enterprising, and know the difference between a Greuze and a Fragonard. But they aren’t tangible lovers or even concrete characters. To believe in their love, I needed to see them as genuine people. I did not.
Their love affair intertwines with the suspense plot in the tale, one of the he’s-betraying-her-until-he realizes-he-loves-her oeuvre. There’s a villain, a lost treasure, and secrets. Little of it is compelling and its resolution is shoddier than inadequate. (Never have a story about a lost treasure without letting the reader, by the end, know the measure of the treasure. Never.) I found the plot hard to follow and large parts of the story — as well as an editor – seemed misplaced. There was a lot I didn’t like about this book.
There are, however, things I did like. I liked Ms. Carr’s writing. She’s nimble with language and more than once I paused to admire the wit of one of her sentences. Her book has ample period appropriate cultural references which make the historical part of her historical romance fascinating. I very much liked Leo’s family; especially his imperious mother and his untamed sister, Lady Boudicea. (The latter, known as Beau, is the heroine of the next book in the series.) Ms. Carr writes well about sex and, had she more realized lovers, her love scenes could have been incandescent.
Ripe for Pleasure is a mediocre book, but I don’t believe Ms. Carr is a mediocre writer. With better leads and better editing, I trust she will write a better book. I’ll pick up Ripe for Scandal, the tale of Beau and The League of Second Sons’ Gareth Sandison. Ms. Carr did the things she did well in Ripe for Pleasure well enough for me to give her another chance.
Grade: C
Book Type: European Historical Romance
Sensuality: Hot
Review Date: 01/07/11
Publication Date: 2011/05
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.