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Archive for the ‘Tudor England’ Category

 Do you remember those campy sci-fi movies in the 50’s that were so bad they were fun to watch? Well, that’s pretty much the way I had to look at this book and certainly the only way I finished it (although I don’t think the author intended this to be a satirical farce). The basic premise sounded interesting for readers looking for an entertaining time slip of a book – masons working at Hampton Court in 2070 find a woman’s body and a letter that leads them to believe that she was Henry VIII’s mistress and pregnant. Curator Kaitlyn Rose has issues of her own, as Anne Boleyn’s ghost seems to really have it in for her, and she’s in love with her boss Colin. Half brothers Colin and Brighton (who have a mysterious past that shocks the you know what out of Kaitlyn)hate each other, and the aging Queen Mum sends them all back to Henry VIII’s court to find the pregnant woman and bring her back to the future so England will have an heir. Once our intrepid time travelers arrive they hook up with Henry and Anne and their court and surprise (!) Henry immediately starts lusting after the beauteous Kaitlyn while the evil brother Brighton schemes to leave his hated brother Colin in the past. OK, now that I’ve put that down on paper it _is_ sounding a bit silly.

Where to begin on what is wrong with this book when there are so many places to start? First off, this is apparently self-published POD which means no editor. And boy did this book need editing. Typos on almost every page — you instead of your, now instead of know,there instead of their, ware instead of wear, you’re instead of your, 5:00 shadow and then two pages later it’s five o’clock shadow — get the picture? Now for the setting of London in 2070, outside of a few Jetsonesque like references to 3D TV, I really didn’t get much feeling for being decades ahead of our current lifestyle. Worse yet, the way the dialogue was written in an attempt at British accents was way over the top – virtually every sentence had either bloke, bloody or bollocks in it.

Now for the story itself. Two men and a woman traveling alone walk right into Hampton Court and they’re just accepted like that? No one is shocked at unmarried Kaitlyn traveling alone with two men and no chaperone? No lady to attend her? Righto. They’re promptly given rooms by Henry and Kaitlyn’s given the room of his absent mistress – yet still no lady to attend her. Worse yet, Colin comes and goes and spends the night (!!) in Kaitlyn’s room and not an eyebrow raised. Want more? How about Anne Boleyn the Queen of England running off to the forest to make whoopee with Brighton and nobody notices? I could go on and on but you get the picture.

Now, why is this so campy and hysterically funny? For starters, the emergency kit brought along by Kaitlyn was priceless – “her tried and true pink and blue plaid pajama pants with their matching pink tank top”, biscuits, diet cola, chocolate, tampons, anti-bacterial soap and lice killing shampoo (I did not need to read about the other part of her body that needed shampooing). Kaitlyn keeps getting tipsy during the Court entertainments and ends up on Colin’s lap (!!), or better yet all the times she’s mad about something and in front of the King and Queen she pouts and puts her arms akimbo. Although the flat out hands down winner that had me on the floor laughing was when our intrepid heroine displays her skill in martial arts and karate chops Henry’s guards when they attempt to arrest Colin. One of my favorite quotes:

“Without hesitation, Henry snapped back into king mode, hastily slipped through the door, sans shirt, with his breeches half opened, barely containing his thwarted…” (I won’t use the word but it starts with an “e”).

There you have it, a silly plot filled with huge gaping holes that falls apart quickly, poor sentence structure laden with typos and way too many commas along with cartoon cut-out characters all add up to a mess of a book and a serious waste of a tree. If you find it at the used bookstore for a penny (no more) and want a few laughs go for it, otherwise skip this. It doesn’t even deserve one star.

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You tell me, but I found the sex and the purple prose in this one so bad that I’m bringing it back for an encore. Starting at page #441:

‘Renee shut her eyes and wheeled her thoughts away from the gentle battering her ramparts were undergoing……..Pleasure whammed her as the slow fingers slid deeper, parting the florets, and rubbed her slippery, throbbing flesh to blissful relief. She cried with helpless excitement as his thumb circled the seat of her delight with tantalizing patience intended to prologue her climactic, gratifying convulsions, rendering her soft and pliant for his designs. Oh, this was heresy. Her faithless body, enchanted with a lustful vampire, melted in anticipation of ravishment; her over-emotional mind filled with wonder and yearning.

Michael groaned at the dewy invitation. He spread the warm moisture around her corolla, making her crave his ultimate possession. He plunged two long fingers inside her and hooked them to stroke an astoundingly, marvelously tender spot. Sweetness welled up in her with shuddering force. Bubbles eddied and rippled and burst in a radiant unending flow of contentment. Her inner muscles fluttered and pulsed around his fingers, the rapturous sensation saturating her whole being. His thumb swirled around her little hill of Venus, pressing, insisting, and swiftly milking another whirlpool of jolting pleasure that shot to the tips of her hair and fingernails. She fizzed and juddered, sobbing as the flow descended upon her.’

Heh, had to go look up corolla at dictionary.com. Oy vey. Had enough yet or would you like to read more? Same page:

‘He lifted his glistening hand to her view, resting his chin on her arm……He presses his fingers to his nose, inhaling deeply…….”Your natural perfume intoxicates me, did you know that?”‘

No this isn’t a romance they’re telling us, it’s historical fiction. On to page #442:

‘He playfully bit her bottom and laughed at her fulminating yelps. He splayed his hand on her back and gently pushed to arch her spine so that her bottom thrust upward. He clasped her thighs, knelt down, and put his mouth to the flower of her sex. Squeaks of mortified excitement trilled her throat as he sucked the river of fire between her legs. He opened her with his fingers to grant him better access and rumbled like a bear lapping at a bowl of honey. His tongue rasped, licked, and titillated her Venus sweetness……..’

Fulminating yelps and Venus sweetness. I am not going there.

‘Michael shoved a clever finger inside her, lit the fuse, and the gun went off, explosively…….’

WTF is a clever finger as opposed to a finger that’s not clever? I think this is my favorite though,
‘”Whoa…” Michael murmured in awe. “Volcano of honey”‘

Gag me. Never fear it gets even worse on page 443:

“In her senseless lassitude, she felt the thick, blunt head of his turgid penis prodding her sex……His hand reached down between them to lightly tease the little hill of Venus into granting him admittance…….Her body, lubricious and supple from her erotic, all-dissolving lovemaking, played lascivious traitor; she could do naught but succumb to the imposed intoxication of the senses.”

So that’s what they’re calling a historical novel and not just a romance? I’m a believer, are you?

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Touted as more than a historical romance, it’s historical fiction – well researched and “a window into the daily life of the upper class of the time”, and “The historical fiction novelist wears two hats: the storyteller and the historian. Every word must be checked, because back in 1518 they had different . . . everything! Even the English language was different” were a few bits I found on an author interview here.

OK, so this is serious stuff they tell me despite the cheesy cover. I’m not even going into the disparity between the birth date of the real Princess Renee (daughter of Louis XII), with the date this story takes place (ummm, she’d be eight by my reckoning), let alone a royal princess making whoopee with a mere painter. Want more? The French ambassador calls a Princess of the Blood a royal whore to her face. More? Unattended, she introduces herself to a strange man and only provides her first name. More? The only lady attending this Royal Princess is her old nursemaid, no maids of honor that I saw.

All this plus over the top flowery prose consisting of way too much hitherto, heretofore and verily was enough to do serious wall damage – but this is the moment when the book flew,

“Her hand found his codpiece and kneaded him artfully. “take me, take me,”she implored, yanking her sleeve down to bare a generous white globe. She put his hand on her breast and wiggled her thighs against his groins. The lady was afire!……..Their joining was rough and urgent, pure lust, naught more, and Anne seemed to relish their shameless savagery. As she bounced in frenzied rhythm, her hips gyrating with increasing urgency, her mewing took on a high pitch.”

Be grateful I edited some of the last out. It wasn’t pretty.

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