Book Review: "Lord of Scoundrels" by Loretta Chase

Romance novelists have a thankless job.

One might assume that romance novelists spend their sunny days holed up (no pun intended) in immaculately-appointed, chintz-covered parlors, pitter-patting away on their computers, amongst heaps of love letters and the lingering scents of lilac and rose. They may occasionally sip some Evian from a goblet of Lalique crystal, or reach for a box of Christopher Norman chocolates sent by an adoring lover. All the while, a strategically-concealed Bose sound system spills out violin sonatas or Callas arias: musical honey to inspire the romantic soul and the pen that translates it.

Well, I don't think I'm taking much of a risk here by saying that this isn't how most romance novelists write. I speak from experience, since I'm still hacking and kvetching and throwing my hands in the air over the romance novel I myself am writing. Or attempting to write.

Most of us sit in our darkened dens of creativity, trying not to nod off in the blue light of the computer screen, struggling to ignore the screaming baby on another floor, or the ear-splitting street noise rising up from below. We may reach for our cold Sanka from time to time, in between swatting the cats off the keyboard and wondering which one didn't make it to the litterbox in order to create that awful stench lingering in the air. And in between all of this, we fearless romance novelists must not only write amorous, entertaining stories: we must take an age-old formula and wrap it in sparkly new clothes.

For that's what the great majority of romance writing is: adhering to the accepted, stamped-and-approved, age-old Formula of the Romance Novel, while trying to make the elements of the story fresh and entertaining. You'd think this might be easy, since you're embarking upon a story that's been written hundreds of thousands of times before; you just have to dress it up a bit. But trust me, it's not this simple. It's like attempting to write with an invisible ghost (Dame Barbara Cartland perhaps?) fiendishly judging your every keystroke. And she's a ruthless literary commandant who answers only to Fabio.

If I'm making it sound impossible to write a decent romance, let me just clarify that there are some well-written ones out there. Just as in any genre of literature, there are, in romance, writers with varying degrees of talent and skill. I've read some truly exceptional romance novels, like "The Spymaster's Lady" by Joanna Bourne and "Nightrose" by Dorothy Garlock.

I've read some mediocre ones, like "Nobody's Darling" by Teresa Medeiros and "The Wolf of Haskell Hall" by Colleen Shannon.

And I have read some really, really stinky ones, like "Savage Heat" by Cassie Edwards and "The Demon's Daughter" by Emma Holly.

Since I have undertaken writing a romance novel, I have studied the usual romance novel formula. It's typically something along the lines of: Hero and Heroine meet, Hero and Heroine spar, Hero and Heroine secretly want one another, Hero and Heroine have wild monkey sex, Hero and Heroine get married and live happily ever after. There is usually some type of subplot going on, involving a bad guy(s) trying to thwart the lovers. At times, these subplots can work quite well. At others, they can be distracting and viewed as nothing more than filler material. Most romances, after all, are nearly 400 paperback pages. The above-outlined formula can be accomplished in, say, about a dozen, making filler material a requirement for a book-length manuscript.

All of the landmines that romance novelists encounter can be transcended with one thing and one thing only: good writing. If a romance novelist knows how to write well and tell a story with respect and flair, it can lift the entire tired old story to the status of art form.

This is what I experienced while reading "Lord of Scoundrels", an historical romance by Loretta Chase, originally published in 1995 (and recently reissued). I was referred to Chase's writing by a trustworthy source in all things Romance Novel, as a writer who is truly at the top of her game. Chase is able to take The Formula and dress it in those sparkly new clothes, just by way of her strong skills as a writer and storyteller.

"Scoundrels" is the story of Lord Dain (the sexy, troubled scoundrel) and Jessica Trent (the snappy, stubborn heroine). The Formula is of course at work here: they meet, they spar, they flirt, they fuck, they save the day. All of that is nothing new. What was new to me was the talent with which Chase is able to get into the minds of her characters. Let's face it: falling in love is the most illogical, indescribable thing in the world. Making it happen in a believable, natural way is a momentous task.

But Loretta Chase meets that task with panache. She is able to convincingly and fluidly shift perspective between her hero and heroine, giving almost voyeuristic access to their every thought, desire, and hesitation. She imbues her iron-willed characters with such vulnerable humanity that every step of their unfolding love comes off as both believable and understandable.

She even handles the subplot requirement with deftness. The subplot, revolving around some of Dain's double-crossing friends, his skanky ex-lover, and the search for a precious piece of artwork, is fleshed out enough to be memorable and interesting, but not overpowering to the story at hand. In true soap opera style, there's even an illegitimate son flitting around the heart of the tale, and Chase uses this as not a cheap gimmick, but a plausible way to further illustrate her hero's emotional journey. Though the story itself is nothing new or revolutionary, Chase's talent as a writer skillfully makes us forget that fact.

One more thing I really enjoyed about "Lord of Scoundrels": the sex scenes. But not for reasons you might think. You see, out of all the romance novels I've read, this one has the fewest, sparest love scenes. Chase does not find it necessary to go on for page after page about the absolute physical perfection of her characters in coitus. She's more focused on the story she's telling, and the moments of sex, while beautifully written, are not the driving force (once again, no pun intended) here. I think this is a testament to the author's considerable talent: she's not relying on trite romance novel buzzwords ("rosy bud", "stiff rod", "Venus mound", et. al.) and soft-core porn to make her story work.

"Scoundrels" is not without its problems, though. There were three minor issues I had with the book. One is the cover. While it's true that romance novelists have no say in what the covers of their books will look like, the cover of the reissue I read sadly missed the mark. It's all pastel blues and greens and pinks, all watercolors and soft angles. The portraits of the hero and heroine looked nothing like their physical descriptions, or at least not how I had envisioned them. The "gauziness" of the artwork is misleading to the story: these are two feisty, opinionated characters represented as sappy, wistful lovers. I'd hoped for something darker, more in keeping with the personalities of the hero and heroine and the general moodiness of their story.

Another issue I had was the nearly unreadable Cockney vernacular used by one of Dain's servants. I hate, absolutely hate, reading dialog that attempts to mimic a regional accent. It's impossible, even coming from a writer as skilled as Chase, what with all the dropped letters and made-up gibberish. The only romance novelist I've encountered who is a true master at portraying these dialects, without mangling letters and spellings, is Joanne Bourne. Bourne is able to create regional dialect with an unexplainable ease (to better grasp this, read "The Spymaster's Lady").

The last problem I had was Chase's decision to make one of her villains a -- gasp! -- bisexual. Or at least, his bisexuality is hinted at. LGBT people get enough flack. Can't we at least be the sassy best friend in a romance novel? Why make us villains, as so many books, movies, and television shows have done for decades?

These are minor roadblocks, though. I only wish all romance novels were as expertly-executed as "Lord of Scoundrels". Loretta Chase proves that not only can oily-hunk-covered, five-buck paperbacks be entertaining...but skillfully written as well.