STAR-CROSSED SUMMER

Author: Sarah Stanley ISBN: 9780709083955 9/2008 HISTORICAL Publisher: ROBERT HALE LTD.
Time Period: Regency, 1815

Summer 1815. Gloucestershire heiress Beth Tremoille is impoverished by her scheming stepmother. Now a blacksmith's mistress, she steals money paid by handsome, rich and ruthless Sir Guy Valmer, who considers the Tremoille inheritance to be his. Unknown to Beth, he means to force her into marriage after finding a missing will that reinstates her as her father's heir. Fearing arrest for stealing, she flees to London, where several brushes with Guy make her realise how physically drawn to him she is. But fear makes her flee again, and under a false name she leases a remote house on the coast of Exmoor. There, believing herself safe, she meets a new love, wealthy landowner Landry Haldane, with whom she embarks upon a passionate affair; but Guy is still on her trail, and is gradually drawing closer. When he finally catches her, she will have to choose her destiny.

RRAH's THOUGHTS AND PONDERINGS:

STAR-CROSSED SUMMER is set in one of my favorite periods in history. I opened it with enthusiasm, looking forward to spending a few hours lost in a long-ago time and surrounded by scenes of genteel living. Unfortunately, that's not what I got. At all. I am sorry to say this but I did not enjoy this book. Maybe someone else will, but it just wasn't my cup of tea.

Don't get me wrong. The writing was superb. Flawless, in fact. The author's attention to details of the period was wonderful. I saw the ruffles on the gowns and felt the dampness in the large, cavernous rooms. I heard the accented voices.

What bothered me about this is the fact that the female characters were, in a word, brainless. Every single one of them. Not only were they senseless, they made their way through the world by using their bodies as currency. And even when there was no barter, these simpering females were constantly falling to their knees before men unfastening their breeches, their mouths at the ready to do the obvious. The heroine uses her body more than any wit or intelligence, and shows a distinct lack of human emotion or regard for anyone, save herself. When she stumbles over a dead man, one she's known for years, she steals the money bag he's carrying and flees. Then, her one altruistic moment is a ridiculous one. She leaves part of the money with a girl who hates her for a man whom she's been allowing to rut with her, even though she has no tender feelings for him. This is truly an unlikely and mostly unfortunate story. I hate to write a review like this, but I honestly believe this wasn't a tale I would have read had I realized what foolishness lurked beneath the lovely cover.

Sarah Stanley writes well. I sincerely hope her next story will be one where the women aren't merely sexual slaves. Like I said, not my cup of tea. Someone else's? Perhaps.

Kay James