I have to admit that one of my pet genres is historical romance. It’s my literary potato chip. My popcorn. My brain candy. There's a time in my life when my nearest and dearest family members would not have been remiss to have an intervention to get me away from my historical romance library and remove me to some kind of reader's anonymous facility to break the habit. I sucked down more than a book a day for years (and that's a modest estimate.) It's up in the air whether or not all that reading may have helped (or hurt) my writing, editing and reviewing skills, but any way you look at it, it is certain that it has affected my taste and expectations. I know the romance hero intimately. The hero is strong beyond strength, and has a sense of innate nobility and justice, no matter how the world turns, no matter how obvious he is, or how he hides his true nature from himself. The heroine may be naive, flawed, perfect or have low self-esteem, but no matter what she is, she holds the possibility of becoming a true and honorable partner in all things.

So when I approach a book like Captive, I have high standards. I remember the old bodice rippers with fondness. I recall Heather Simmons and Captain Brandon Birmingham, children of Kathleen Woodiwiss's pen, the romantic pair who started the romance novel wave we are still riding to this day. Yet Woodiwiss's Heather would not make it in the world of today's heroines. She doesn't have the gumption to get herself out of the slush pile. And there's something a bit dated about the language. But I have to explain.

Now you may be thinking, "It's a HISTORICAL. The language is supposed to be dated." But really, "dated" isn't what you want. You want a sense of the time and place, but you don't want language to be a hurdle to be overcome. Dated language is the biggest drawback in Captive. The dialogue has a stiffness that is awkward. While I understand how difficult it is giving the impression of a historical time, a reader shouldn't read over the language as if it were a mouthful of archaic speed bumps. All you need is the lightest touch of dialogue or dialect, just a hint to provide the seasoning. No one is expecting to be reading old English, or Middle English, or Gaelic.

So, on to the scenario. Geoffrey de Sage is a celibate widower who seeks justice for his dead wife; the innocent maiden Aeschine is a pawn in his plan. But when he snatches her, she's already fleeing the pursuit of her intended, LaTourne, a nasty person with fiendish designs. While Geoffrey holds Aeschine as bait, he starts pulling Dom behavior, calling her his captive, making her walk naked in tethers, etc. All I can say is that the text needs a good hard edit. This has all the elements of a fiery bodice-ripper, if only the story were not entangled so awkwardly in cumbersome synthetic vernacular. I found myself fighting to get through every page.

Reviewed by Maîtresse
© Sept 2007