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So I read Undressing Mercy a couple of days ago, dontcha just love the cover? No? Well sod ya then!

Anyway, here’s the blurb:

My Verdict

I really liked this book, I really did.

I was initially drawn to Undressing Mercy because I liked the front cover, but when I read the blurb, it seemed just a tad too bland for me, but I persevered, and decided to have a quick flick through anyway. (Note to Ms Lee, the blurb needs work..)

I read the first couple of pages, and decided to purchase. (By the way, I paid a whopping great £8.99 ($15) which I thought was bloody expensive for a book that only has 182 pages. This is what I call a rip-off.)

My favourite thing about Undressing Mercy was the hero, Shamus Montgomery. He was lovely. I love me some darkly brooding, yet sensitive arty type men, who know how to use their penis properly treat a girl right.

I loved his intensity, and this is something that Ms Lee managed to convey very well. He wasn’t an arsehole, and at no point in the book did I feel the urge to take a meat cleaver to his very manly tackle. Can I hear a Hallelujah for that?

I loved the fact that Ms Lee also managed to make him sensitive, without turning him into My Gay Best Friend. I love sensitive men, but I certainly don’t want to be channeling Lizza Minnelli’s David Gest whilst reading a romance book, ya know what I mean?

Mercy was a slightly more complicated kettle of fish. I did like her, but I had to fight really hard to understand her reasoning for not pressing charges on the arsehole who raped her. She had all the evidence she needed, but instead she chose to leave her place of work, and so the perpetrator managed to get off scott free. Grrrrr. HOT BUTTON, HOT BUTTON, HOT BUTTON!

Now I know that this is often the case in real life, but Mercy was a very strong character, and it just seemed to me that somebody as mentally tough as she was, would have wanted to see justice done. In the book, her motivation for not pursuing the bastard who raped her, was because she didn’t want to be seen as a victim, which, I would have understood a bit better, had her life not been ruled by the actions of the colleague who’d assaulted her.

Now being a Borderline Feminist which basically means I like to wear perfume, and shave my under-arm hair choosing to not act against a man who raped you, is something that I find hard to understand, and never having been a victim of rape, I can only imagine that I’d want justice if it had happened to me.

Having said the above, I did like the heroine. Apart from the whole rape issue, she was a strong woman, who didn’t take shit from anyone. I especially liked the way she dealt with the obligatory arsehole in the book, who’s sole mission in life was to make her life a misery.

I loved the chemistry between Mercy and Shamus. The contrast between these two people, which had nothing whatsoever to do with colour, was one of the things that I especially liked about the book. I felt that Mercy was the more fiery, (if sometimes slightly insecure) character, whilst Shamus was her anchor, who was able to pull her back, when things got too rough. They felt like real people, and it was easy to relate to them.

Not to say that they could be my next door neighbour or anything, because I imagine that Mercy is nothing like Betty, the elderly lady, who lives next to us, with her noisy freakish Yorkshire Terrier dog…. Erm I digress…

Anyway, to sum up, I often compare reading a book to taking a cruise on the Mediterranean, sometimes, the waters are so rough, you want to puke your guts up, and the people who you meet are so fucking annoying, they make you want to eat your own children, but other times, the waters are lovely and smooth, with hardly a ripple to mar the coastline, and it’s a joy to share a margarita or two with your fellow cruisers.

Well this book was comparable to the latter. Deanna had a good voice, the book was easy to read, it had the right emotional elements when needed, flowed along at a nice pace, and didn’t make me want to punch the bookseller chick at Borders or demand my £8.99 back. What more can a reader ask for?

By the way, for those who don’t particularly enjoy page after page of gratuitous, mind-numbing sex scenes, *cough*Elizabeth Bevarly*cough, cough* I can assure you that this book is probably on par with your average Blaze, in terms of the sexual content. The words, cock, fuck, and clit were used on the odd occasion, but don’t worry, it was all very tastefully done. *g*

You can visit Deanna Lee here and buy Undressing Mercy here.


Thursday, July 20, 2006
Posted in: Uncategorized

I’ve been tagged by Keishon, so here are my answers.

When did you start blogging and why?

I started blogging in April 2005. I’d mainly been on Yahoo groups, but I had too many controversial opinions to go posting them on author loops. The Stepford way of posting, that some groups encouraged was just not me. I wanted to slice and dice at will, and unfortunately, a lot of the authors were into that whole, ‘if you can’t say anything nice’ shit.

What don’t you talk about?

Ultra-personal things that may be happening in my life, everything else is pretty fair game.

Are you and your blogging persona the same person?

Pretty much, the main differences being that when I’m being irreverent or sarcastic, people in my real world get it, whereas, in the blogosphere, some people like to think that my sole purpose in life is to make their lives a misery. Seriously, that shit takes far too much energy.

How do you use blogging to build friendships?

Not really sure, I used to comment a lot more on various blogs, but these days I’m reluctant to put my thoughts on other people’s blog, unless I’m familiar with them, and like them.

On my own blog, I like reading other people’s opinions, so I post on a variety of subjects, and I refuse to pigeonhole myself in a way that means that my blog subjects are limited.

How would you describe your writing style?

Brilliant, at best, lazy, at worst. *g*

Seriously, it depends on my mood, sometimes erratic, other times introspective, sometimes controversial. but mostly tongue-in-cheek.

Also, I can’t be arsed remembering grammatical rules, and I have a habit of mixing up my metaphors. Mrs Mackay, my English teacher in high school would be so proud.