A Kiss to Remember (Farleigh Sisters, Book One): Teresa Medeiros

"Laura Farleigh is playing with fire.  With only three weeks in which to marry in order to gain the title to Arden Manor, the house she and her younger siblings are living in, the penniless beauty has no time for romantic dreams.  She must seize any opportunity for matrimony -- before she loses her chance to keep her benefactor's prodigal son, the notorious Duke of Devonbrooke, from taking possession of her home.  When fate presents her with an amnesic Adonis in the woods nearby, Laura is determined to convince the injured stranger that he is, in fact, her loving fiancé and hurry him to the altar.  She's chilled to discover that the nameless man is in fact the dreaded duke, who will not be pleased to learn that he's been played for a fool -- even by a beautiful captor who has fallen in love with him in the process.  Laura has only one chance to secure her future happiness.  Somehow, before their rapidly approaching wedding night, she must with the heart of this rake who has a reputation to rival the Devil himself.  Teresa Medeiros, whose love stories so often have more than a touch of magic about them, has created a delightfully original version of the classic romantic tale of Sleeping Beauty in A Kiss to Remember." *Taken from FantasticFiction.com

"At the tender age of seven, Sterling Harlow, the seventh duke of Devonbrooke, was virtually sold to his coldhearted uncle to pay off his own father's gambling debts.  Sterling won his uncle's title in the bargain--but lost the playful spirit of his youth.  Dubbed 'the Devil of Devonbrooke,' Sterling's exploits have earned him a reputation as a notorious rake.  And when his mother dies, he is determined to take possession of her home--even if he must remove his mother's ward, Laura Farleigh, to do it.  But while he is returning to Arden Manor, a riding accident knocks Sterling unconscious--and when he awakens, his memory is gone.

"Laura Farleigh has turned down more marriage proposals than she can count--for no man can compare to the noble and handsome man of her dreams.  But when her benefactor dies, Laura learns that the woman's prodigal son, the infamous due of Devonbrooke, plans to return to Arden Manor.  Laura has never laid eyes on the duke, but his reputation precedes him--and Laura is determined to keep him from casting her and her young siblings into the streets.  Her only hope is a stipulation in the will that says if Laura marries by her twenty-first birthday--a mere three weeks away--the house will be hers.






"Laura prays for a miracle--prayers that seem answered when a morning walk yields a remarkable discovery:  a mystery man with the face of an angel and the body of Adam.  Best of all, he seems to have no memory of who he is--or more important, who he's not!  Desperate, Laura does the unthinkable.  She lies.  Not only does she tell the mystery man that he's her fiancé; she convinces him that he possesses all of the qualities of the man of her dreams!  As she nurses her 'betrothed' back to health, Laura thinks her problems are solved.  That is, until she realizes that her handsome stranger and the duke of Devonbrooke are one and the same--and that the man she has convinced to act like a pussycat is really a dangerous panther.






"As the wedding night approaches, there's only one way for Laura to atone for her deception--she must with the heart of the Devil himself to save both their souls...."




This is another re-read of a book I read quite some time ago; the very short original review can be found HERE.  On that review, this is listed as Book Three in the Fairy Tale Series, but FantasticFiction.com lists it as Book One of the Farleigh Sisters series.  I may research the proper reading order because this annoys me...




I seemed to really like this book the first time around and I enjoyed it this time as well.  I didn't love it, though.  It simply was not my favorite book by Teresa Medeiros.  If I am entirely honest, I think it's because Laura was simply SO pious and, yet, her selfishness in believing the handsome, unconscious stranger was sent just for her irked me.  I know Medeiros is religious, herself, so I can understand the tones in this book and can respect them for what they are, but I found Laura to be pretty hypocritical.  I can't tell if this was intentional or unintentional.  I've just never found a (steamy) romance novel where piety and religiousness really suit the characters well.  There's just something about the belief system that doesn't quite go.  This is, of course, just my personal opinion.  I'm sure some out there won't mind it as much as I did.  That being said, I still liked the book.  The characters were vivid and lively, especially Laura's siblings, George and Lottie.  Diana, Sterling's cousin, and Thane, Sterling's best friend and Diana's ex-betrothed, had a particularly amusing dynamic.  This time around, I've quickly realized that one of this author's trademarks is creating stories within her main story; accomplishing this with well-rounded secondary characters.  Medeiros doesn't seem content with creating one love story, but she usually seems to create undertones for another -- either writing one directly into the book (like this one), or creating the foundations for another in a sequel story.  It takes a lot of craftsmanship to write this way and not lose any of the magic from the true main characters.


As a male lead, Sterling had a complicated backstory.  While so many characters believed the world to be very cut and dry, he is evidence that this is not necessarily the case.  His past and the events that made him into the man who would be the Duke of Devonbrooke.  The explanations of how any why he became so cold and removed were believable and poignant.  I will say, however, that I liked him a great deal more when he was Nicholas, Laura's imaginary fiancé.  His personality was rich and multifaceted; we get a glimmer of the man he probably would have become had he not been sold off to his uncle.  This, I thought, was probably my favorite part of his character.


Laura was a decent female lead.  I've already voiced my opinions on the contrariness of her character and her religion, so I won't go over this again.  I loved what a romantic she was at heart.  This lent her character an air of believability and realism without which she would have fallen rather flat.  It made the fact that she turned down so many proposals more realistic than snobbish.  I liked her interactions with her siblings quite a bit.  They're such close-knit family that it made it easy to believe how and why she was willing to stay with the Devil of Devonbrooke, even after she finally realized his true identity.


The tension between Sterling and his mother was a poignant undercurrent.  Though his mother wasn't physically present for a vast majority of the story, she felt very alive and real.  I thought the excerpts from her letters at the start of each of the chapters was a very nice touch.  When Sterling is finally forced to face his feelings about his mother and his sense of abandonment...boy did I get choked up.  It was raw and painful and beautiful all at the same time.


Arden Manor was a wonderful setting; so much so, in fact, that I actually enjoyed that bit of the book much more than when the setting shifted to London.  This was a great bit of writing by Medeiros because I, too, felt as if I'd left "home" when we abandoned Arden Manor for the cold London mansion.


As far as the "retelling of the Sleeping Beauty story" goes, I found this one quite successful.  Having the maiden wake the prince made for a nice twist; Sterling's amnesia was well-written, and the story (as usual) had a touch of magic.  It's a fun variation that I can appreciate, especially because it's far from blatant.


I do recommend this book even though it was not one of my favorites by Medeiros.  I still enjoyed the lively characters and the fun, unique plot.  There were aspects that I didn't love, but that didn't prevent me from liking the overall story.

The Children Act: Ian McEwan

"Fiona Maye is a leading High Court judge who presides over cases in the family court.  She is renowned for her fierce intelligence, exactitude, and sensitivity.  Bur her professional success belies private sorrow and domestic strife.  There is the lingering regret of her childlessness, and now her marriage of thirty years is in crisis.

"At the same time, she is called on to try an urgent case:  Adam, a beautiful seventeen-year-old boy, is refusing for religious reasons the medical treatment that could save his life, and his devout parents echo his wishes.  Time is running out.  Should the secular court overrule sincerely expressed faith?  In the course of reaching a decision, Fiona visits Adam in the hospital -- an encounter that stirs long-buried feelings in her and powerful new emotions in the boy.  Her judgement has momentous consequences for them both."

This is the second book I've read by Ian McEwan, Atonement being the first.  Though I read that book back in 2014, I still recall McEwan's lyrical, artistic style -- quintessential modern British literature (and Modern British Literature happened to be the course for which Atonement had been assigned); I knew the possibilities and depth into which I was about to dive with this book.  It's fairly short (there aren't even 250 pages in the hardcover printing), but the amount of emotion indecision McEwan was able to cram into a book of this length was astounding.  I expected to like it, but I didn't expect to find it so easy to read or so moving.

Fiona is a brilliant judge and some of the cases she hears are impossible.  I realize this is fiction, but I'm sure some of those situations do make appearances in real courts from time to time -- maybe even more often than we realize.  It's no wonder her marriage had become so strained.  If I was emotionally drained from reading about her life, I can only imagine what someone in her position would feel like, having lived it.  The strains upon her relationship and her husband's restlessness were written in a remarkably realistic fashion.  He wasn't crucified, but nor was Fiona.  I found myself wanting to hate him for what he did, but Fiona's vacillations muddied the waters brilliantly.

Adam felt alive.  I should have guessed the illness was leukemia from the cover art on the book, but I didn't.  Leukemia has touched my family in a very personal way.  I was not around to experience it first-hand, I found McEwan's descriptions revealing a side of the disease of which I was unaware.  It made me nauseous, but only for its powerful reality; his ability to describe the illness and the side effects of the treatments in a way that was (oddly) both clinical and moving at the same time.  Adam lives in an impossible world.  On the cusp of manhood, he clings to the life he has always known, but he really is still just a boy -- a talented, brilliant, remarkable, boy.  Leukemia turns his world on its ear and calls into question his core beliefs and that of his family.  Any decision Fiona makes will alter his life forever.  The eloquence and rationality with which Adam and his family explain and support their religious beliefs really makes this book readable.  I was worried that there would be screaming matches and religious soapboxes, but I can appreciate their points (even if I do not necessarily agree with them).  This was probably one of the greatest achievements in this book.

The ending of the book felt very true to what I know of McEwan's storytelling.  He gives rays of hope, but mixes them with healthy doses of poignant sadness.

Overall, I found the book to be a moving story very relevant to today's climate (I won't get into debates here, but a quick Google search should assuage your curiosity).  There were moments where I wasn't sure of some of the procedures and/or terminology (the law is different on this side of the pond), but I managed to figure them out.  The pacing was excellent and it flowed extremely well.  This was a very quick read that packed a powerful punch.

Winter's Tale: Mark Helprin

“Mark Helprin’s masterpiece will transport you to New York of the Belle Epoque, to a city clarified by a siege of unprecedented snows.  One winter night, Peter Lake – master mechanic and second-story man – attempts to rob a fortress-like mansion on the Upper West Side.  Though he thinks it is empty, the daughter of the house is home. Thus begins an affair between a middle-aged Irish burglar and Beverly Penn, a young girl dying of consumption. It is a love so powerful that Peter Lake, a simple and uneducated man, will be driven to stop time and bring back the dead.  His great struggle is one of the most beautiful and extraordinary stories of American literature.”

I wanted to start off with a quote which really stuck out to me – I’ll come back at the end and explain why I feel like this was important:

“ ‘I think it would be vain to imagine that we could be favored without effort.  As I understand it, miracles come to those who risk defeat in seeking them.  They come to those who have exhausted themselves completely in a struggle to accomplish the impossible.

“ ‘I held back when my father died.  He said it was my duty, and that I was right.  His last wish was that I save myself for a battle I would not understand. Do you know what he said?  He said, ‘The greatest fight is when you are fighting in smoke and cannot see with your eyes’ ” (Helprin 615).

I’ve been meaning to read this book for a while now and I finally got around to it.  I saw the movie version a few years ago shortly after it came out and I liked it well enough.  I did break my general rule of thumb and watched the film before reading the book; now I remember why I made that rule in the first place.  Books are so much grander and more spectacular than can ever be put into a movie.  (In my opinion, the only thing that comes close is the Harry Potterseries.)  Authors don’t typically write novels with the intention that they be transformed into a movie, and this certainly wasn’t the case with Winter’s Tale.  The person who thought everything would translate or that they could possibly do it justice was sorely mistaken.  That being said, this does not actually mean I loved the book.

I probably started off this book on the wrong foot.  I ended up really ill about a month-and-a-half ago (and this tells you how long it’s taken me to read it) and had picked it up from the library beforehand.  I decided to read it while I was recuperating, but that was a bad idea.  This is not an easy book (and this coming from someone with a Master’s Degree in English – with an emphasis on British Literature).  I’m no pansy and I like a good challenge.  This went well above and beyond my expectations.  It was vaguely deconstructionist and highly modernist in its styling.  I expected a piece of fiction, but what I found was something more abstract and complex than I ever anticipated.  Because of this (and likely because of my poor timing in choosing to try to tackle such a work), it took me a long time to get into it.  Even when I did, it was for relatively brief moments – little islands of clarity in an otherwise tumultuous world.  Since I was expecting a piece that was (mostly) realistic fiction – I knew there would be some magical and ethereal aspects because I’d seen the movie – I was really thrown by just how abstract some of the characters, settings, and situations were.  Some people lived for hundreds of years, characters and animals were capable of things that should not have been possible, and some of the situations were downright unrealistic or way over the top.  I am open to giving leeway for drama, but half the time I couldn’t tell if I was reading something that was actually happening, or a delirious dream or fantasy of one of the many characters.  As such, this piece of literature was very far out of my normal reading habits.  I was about to put it down for good when I decided to bring it to work and try reading it on my lunch breaks (I typically give a book three chapters to grab me and I’d given this one quite a bit longer, but I’d reached a point where I wasn’t really sure what I was even reading anymore).  The owner of the law firm at which I work saw this book on my desk and proceeded to gush about how it was his absolute favorite book.  There was no putting it down now.  I had to power through.  I have to admit that I’m glad I did – if only for the tremendous sense of accomplishment.

I liked Peter Lake quite a bit.  He was so much more complicated than a traditional “thief” archetype.  Beverly was very captivating as well, with her feverish behavior and very unique (short) life.  We’re introduced to a plethora of other characters and points of view as the story moves on.  One of the things I struggled with the most is that I had no freaking clue as to why I was reading about them or what they had to do with the overarching plot. What did I care about the Coherries people or Hardesty?  How did all of the little windows into these people’s lives and experiences impact the story?  I admit that it doesall come together in the end.  It doesn’t seem like it, but I promiseyou that it does.  Helprin has a grand plan (“grand” being an understatement).  The intricacies and invisible threads connecting the different stories on numerous levels were astounding.  Now that I’m out of the maze, I can step back and appreciate it in its entirety, for the complexity of the whole rather than individual parts.  This, I believe, is the beauty of this book; why it’s received so much acclaim.  I cannot fathom the amount of planning and work that went into all of it.  This is also why I think the person (or people) who believed they could well and truly capture of the soul of this book in a film was sorely mistaken.  There was no way on earth that it was going to translate well or do it justice.  I’m sorry, but it was an impossibility.  I’m going to have to go back and watch the movie again since it’s been several years since my one and only experience with it, but I have a feeling I’m going to find it much more lacking than my first go around.  This is a love story, but not in the traditional sense.  There are much higher, much darker powers at work in this story.  The impossible will be accomplished and the incredible will happen.  The story is ambitious and so very, very unique and otherworldly.

This was part of the reason it took me so long to finish; I had to figure out how to attack it from another angle.  I’m not oppose to fantasy, but I don’t believe I have everexperienced anything quite like this combination of fantasy, fiction, and realism (with strong, if well-disguised, religious undertones).  As I mentioned before, I initially began reading this with the anticipation and expectation that I would be reading a work of realistic fiction with fantastical aspects.  When I encountered so much more than I expected, I wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. I had to take a step back, breathe, and try something else.  My mind resisted this book; that’s the only way I can describe my personal experience. I had to release all of my preconceived notions and “detach” myself from reality in order to fully comprehend what I was witnessing in my mind’s eye.  (I realize this sounds like a terribly dramatic way for me to describe reading a book, but it’s the truth.  If describing my technique can help just one other reader tackle this oft-intimidating piece of literature, then I will count it well worth it.)  One excellent example of this was the cloud wall. We know this doesn’t exist in reality. What was it?  Was it a metaphor; if so, for what?  Could only some people see it?  Was this reality or fantasy?  I learned to take it for what it was and just think:  Well, this is a relatively realistic New York and there’s a cloud wall that moves on the outskirts like some sort of blob, taking with it whatever it touches.  Okay.  I may not like it, but I can do my best to accept it as fact, like some of the characters.  The oddities in this book just are.  You have to accept them as the characters do or this book is going to fight you every step of the way.

If you’re as determined to read this book as I was, don’t get discouraged by the seemingly-unrelated stories and characters, the complexities and nuances of the plot. Take a deep breath and dive deep, because that’s the only way you’re going to get through this.  I promise it makes more sense in the end and it’ll be worth the work.

This book was a challenge and, I’m not going to lie to you or sugarcoat it, there were times when I struggled.  A lot. I'm not proud of it, nor is it something I’m used to – I’ve easily tackled works that are typically considered daunting by most literary standards.  But I will say that the struggle ended up worthy of the spoils.  The book was powerful; it made me think.  It was complex and intricate.  Helprin is a unique and extremely talented author.

Now, going back to the quote I provided at the very beginning of this review.  These words are spoken by Hardesty in the last few hundred pages of the story.  Without giving too much away, the major conflict is finally coming to a head and most of the characters’ stories have now converged.  I found this poignant because I think, so often, people believe miracles just happen – they’re gifts to those who some higher power believes are worthy.  I believe miracles come to those who have well and truly exhausted all of their own efforts.  They have to really experience the darkness of failure in order to truly appreciate the miracle for what it is.  Even if something seems impossible, to not even attempt to try to accomplish the impossible is to sabotage the miracle.  You may not see who or what you’re fighting, but you must continue to do so.  I found all of this powerful and one of the biggest messages in this book.  There are things in this world that we cannot prevent, things over which we have no control (and, especially in this day and age of technology and instant gratification, this can be disheartening and defeating).  There are things that we cannot fathom within our finite world and time.  All of this is the amalgamation of living.  Live like Beverly, love like Peter Lake, believe like Hardesty, persevere like Virginia, know the importance of knowledge and the power of words like Mrs. Gamely, imagine like Abby and Martin, believe in the power of change like Praeger de Pinto.  All or some of this may feel impossible at times, but do your damndest to accomplish it regardless.  Sometimes it might feel like the entire world is conspiring against you at every turn, but seek out every avenue and possibility in your search to achieve your greatest aims.  Perhaps you’ll even find your own miracle.

As I’ve mentioned, this book was a struggle; in the end, however, I felt it was worth it.  This is by no means a book for a casual reader or someone faint of heart.  This book will take work.  It will confuse you, it will push you, but it’s a powerful story eloquently and elaborately told.  The style and plot can present a number of challenges, but I can say that I appreciate it all the more having seen it all come together.

The Taming of the Queen (Tudor Court, Book Four): Philippa Gregory

“Why would a woman marry a serial killer?

“Because she cannot refuse…

“Kateryn Parr, a 30-year-old widow in a secret affair with a new lover, has no choice when a man old enough to be her father, who has buried four wives – King Henry VIII – commands her to marry him.

“Kateryn has no doubt about the danger she faces:  the previous queen lasted 16 months, the one before barely half a year.  But Henry adores his new bride, and Kateryn’s trust in him grows as she unites the royal family, creates a radical study circle at the heart of the court, and rules the kingdom as regent.

“But is this enough to keep her safe?  A leader of religious reform and the first woman to publish in English, Kateryn stands out as an independent woman with a mind of her own.  But she cannot save the Protestants, under threat for their faith, and Henry’s dangerous gaze turns on her.  The traditional churchmen and rivals for power accuse her of heresy – the punishment is death by fire, and the king’s own name is on the warrant…

“From an author who has described all of Henry’s queens comes a deeply intimate portrayal of the last:  a woman who longed for passion, power, and education at the court of a medieval killer.”

I have obviously been on a bit of a Philippa Gregory kick, haven’t I?  I just love the Tudor era so much that it makes it easy for me to pick up yet another book set in this time period.  Gregory’s easy writing and captivating characters are, once again, at the heart of this book; however, I will say that I struggled with the amount of religion in this book.  I am so impressed that Kateryn was the first woman to publish in English (I believe it was a book of prayers or psalms, if memory serves me), but the sheer amount of theological discussion and preaching was, at times, enough to make my eyes glaze over.  Granted, this could just be because I, personally, can only deal with a certain amount of religion in a work of fiction before I can’t take it anymore.  This could be completely different for another reader with different interests.  I am fully aware that so much of Henry VIII’s reign revolved around religious doctrine, practices, laws, teachings, etc. (I’ve written papers on it and done my share of reading non-fiction materials on the subject), so I understand the importance of Gregory including this in the book, but it sometimes slowed down the story and the pacing.  While I thoroughly enjoyed Kateryn as a character and sympathized with her struggles and her lost love, this story was my second least-favorite in this series (one step above The Constant Princess).  The most memorable moment was the revelation of the official portrait used on the cover of the book.  I recall reading about the portrait somewhere, but I had long-since forgotten.  To have it revealed in the book was gut-wrenching and very interesting – I don’t want to give anything away!  I also loved how hard Kateryn worked to bring Henry’s children together.

Overall, I did like the book, but the weightiness of the religious aspect sometimes bogged down the story.  I understand what was trying to be accomplished, but it felt a bit religion-heavy for a historical fiction.  I think the point could have gotten across with a bit less of the details or sermons.  I will say that I did some research on Kateryn after finishing the book (she is probably the queen I knew the least about) and her story is very interesting, her life reached far past the date of her death, as did the consequences of her marriages (yes, that is plural – you’ll have to read for yourself to find out!).  She was an admirably strong, determined woman.  I hope I don’t give too much away when I say that I’m sorry her “happy ending” was not all that she hoped it would be.  I recommend this book as a necessary installation in this series, but – like I said – it was not my favorite.  It was probably the most suspenseful in the series, which is something to be said.