Archive for the ‘Richard III’ Category


“The moaning ceased, and there fell a silence that howled like an
empty wind as it blew through us, changing everything,
binding us together in a massive chain without shape or
substance. Forged of grief eternal, this chain was more
powerful than any steel, for it secured us in its black claws
for all time and was never to be broken.”
p. 223 of Lady of the Roses

Howling silence? And WTF is an empty wind? Chains without shape or substance but with black claws?

The book had the usual cast for this author: angels and devils, with hardly anyone falling in between. I can’t say much more about it because I gave up about a third of the way through.


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Although I understand my ARC was an uncorrected proof, this one was supposedly published in the UK last year so you have to wonder about who on earth let this stuff get past them.

“She nodded back. Avoided Jane’s eye. ‘My lord,’ she answered, with all the poise she could manage; then, neutrally to Jane’s shoulder, aware of Jane’s hand settling on Will Hastings’ arm on Jane’s waist; of the moist, hungry look in her sister’s eyes: … ” (I think this was the day after Edward died)

“When Hastings kept his temper, Dorset, unnervingly, began to stare at him. Jutting his jaw out. Leaning forward over clenched hands. Trying to stare Hastings down; the stare of a man with death in mind; holding the eye-lock for so long Hastings had thought he might pull out a sword then and there.”

“But, quietly but firmly, he moved her back. Turned away. Reached for his buckler, with muscles taut as wire again.”

Our own 15C Superwoman: “The important thing now was to stay calm; avoid getting rattled; take one step at a time. She was managing it all so far. Having Alice and the Prattes see the Italian workers today, for instance. Tomorrow, visiting the princess and sewing in her new laces for the violet silk gown. After that, snatching another hour with Dickon on the way back. Then innocently chatting with Will Caxton at his gate about her time with the princess. It was all possible, if you kept your head. It could all work.” Whew, thank goodness there’s no kids to take to soccer matches.

Here our silk merchant Isabel is having an intimate (!!) conversation with the Princess Elizabeth who has told her she’s going to marry Henry Tudor: “She shook herself. ‘Well, so….what’s he like, your future husband?’ she said, trying to look and sound warmer without saying anything overtly treasonous”

Isabel having a conversation with R3 about the rebellion and looming battle: “She said, doubtfully, thinking of all those armies blundering around different parts of the West Country, trying to meet up. ‘Well, it seems…messy.”

Messy???? Gawd, what a mess of a book.

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Gawd, with a cover like that to start with can it only go downhill from there? I was tipped off about this *fanciful* take on Margaret of Anjou from a couple of authors well researched in all things Wars of the Roses that this book might be worth a laugh or two. Since I didn’t know when I’d get to it, I had a tip off to look at Chapter 13 and here’s what I found when Margaret is making whopee with a French General,

“For Brezé had also served in the East, in his youth, and had long abandoned the Christian way of Love. Thus he made me kneel, my buttocks locked against his groin like some bitch on heat – but this I was, at that moment – while he seemed to impale me to my very stomach. All the while his hands were caressing my breasts until he took them away to grasp my hams until we shared a mutual explosion of joy – my second of the evening – in which I cried out my lubricious happiness and no doubt alarmed my ladies in the next room.”

Queens just have all the fun don’t they? Now do I really want to go back and read the rest of this and see how truly bad it all is? Even for fun?

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