Chase, Loretta - Mr. Impossible

I wasn't going to like this, I really wasn't. Even though it was set in Egypt and by Loretta Chase. For one, it has that educated heroine who somehow always rubs me the wrong way (I wish one could sound educated in romance novels without sounding prim and bluestocking-ish). Then the hero was completely bowled over by the heroine's looks, and it didn't help that he was rakish-seeming.

But I couldn't help it! Rupert Carsington is an awesome hero (so cute! Fluffy bunny cute, not handsome cute, though I am sure he is handsome cute too), and I adored Daphne as well. And it's one of the few romances that actually make me believe that not only are the hero and heroine in love, but that they fit and that it will last.

Rupert Carsington has been dumped in Egypt by his father, who is very happy to find some way of off-loading his irresponsible and troublesome son. Daphne Pembroke, a wealthy widow, needs help to find her kidnapped brother, and as a last resort, she buys Rupert out of jail. He's to be the brawns and she the brains of the operations, says she who speaks a good dozen languages, and he agrees quite nicely because he's bored and because she's pretty.

Rupert (I keep thinking Giles, which is really disturbing in this context) is sort of a rake, but he's so cheerful and matter-of-fact about it that I didn't mind much at all. And I adore the way he is with Daphne. He really loves that she gets excited about hieroglyphics, and he loves that she is brave and takes care of herself. I mean, a lot of heroes say that in romances, but Rupert honestly seems to believe it. So when he shoves her out of danger, it's not because he thinks she must be protected from it or something, it's because he doesn't want to see her hurt. Plus, he doesn't do that stupid paternalistic thing in which he makes decisions for her. Also, he teaches her how to shoot a gun.

And I also like that Chase contrasts Rupert's attitude with Virgil's attitude, Virgil being Daphne's dead and not-really-mourned husband. Daphne is sick of people not listening to her and belittling her because of her sex, and she was told by her husband that her attitudes toward sex and books were "unwomanly." It all reminds me quite a bit of the whole history of hysteria and the notions that women had to cease overusing their brains so that their uteri would be able to function properly. Ugh.

I loved Daphne's straight-forwardness, contrasted with Rupert's sort of naive innocence. It's a strange way for a rake to be, but that's how he comes off as. She, on the other hand, is extremely practical, and not much for romance, which I like, being a bit like that myself.

Also, Daphne and Rupert banter! They're funny! And best of all, they genuinely like each other, and there were no stupid misunderstandings to get in the way.

Man, this book cheered me up so much! Must hunt out the others in the series.

ETA: Oh, yes, I forgot to add how much I liked that the romance empowered Daphne. I know, "empower" seems like such a corny word sometimes, but she ends up being stronger and better in the relationship. I feel like all happy romances should be like this (as opposed to angsty romances, which are allowed to be dysfunctional), and yet, in so many, the woman ends up being some sort of damsel who can't do anything for herself and gets rescued all the time. This irks me a lot.

Links:
- coffeeandink's review
- minnow1212's review
- kate_nepveu's review

Brooks, Martha - Two Moons in August

I'm so glad I found this in the library! I used to read this back in middle school, in the Point paperback edition from those Scholastic book orders. Those were life savers, especially when you lived in a country without too many English bookstores.

I was almost scared to reread it, because I had liked it back then. It had a certain something, a restraint that I had liked, and I didn't want to reread to find that it didn't hold up through the years.

But it's still good. I am glad.

It's 1959, and Sidonie's mother has been dead for nearly a year. Her sister Bobbi tries to take her mother's place, her father avoids the house and pretends nothing is wrong, and there's a new boy next door -- Kieran. I hate providing synopses for these kinds of books, because there's not much of a plot. It's mostly just the characters interacting with each other.

I hadn't noticed back in middle school how well Brooks captures 15-year-old Sidonie's voice and vocabulary, probably because my voice and vocabulary was something like that ;). But she does, and I like Sidonie, who's awkward and hurt and lonely. Kieran is also hurt; his parents are divorcing and his father is an alcoholic. Both of them are attracted to each other; neither is quite sure how to deal with it. There's something in how they interact and in how all the characters interact that really bring the book to life. Sidonie and Kieran are each unsure enough and make all the jerky, nervous motions toward each other so that they feel like real people.

Underlying everything in the book is a sense of loss -- Sidonie's family is lost without her mother, Kieran isn't sure of his own place in life or even of himself.

Anyhow, now I am irked it is out of print, because I want a copy of the Point paperback edition again.