By Sarina | PaEHba Day | November 18, 2009 |
By Sarina | PaEHba Day | November 18, 2009 |
In last year’s episode of Paheeba Romance, we tasted the delights of Some Like It Wicked by Teresa Medeiros. Lightning recap: Orphan Girl, shrieking harpy slutzilla cousin dry humping a Navy Lieutenant, Deep Blue Sea with no sharks, dysentery with no Oregon Trail, marriage of convenience to a Jailbird, sweetcakes and a sabre-toothed tiger fossil, myrrh-scented oil lubricant and a yeast infection, girl chieftain of a Scottish clan and Junie B. Jones Has a Peep in Her Pocket.
And they say romance isn’t real literature. Pshaw!
Well, Teresa Medeiros has more where that came from, my lovelies. Oh that’s right, she smoked up some more inspiration and there’s a SEQUEL. It’s called Some Like It Wild, and it’s about Girl’s brother; his name is Connor Kincaid, but let’s just call him Boy, shall we? Boy’s story takes place in 1814, four years after the sweeping saga of his sister (presumably, her yeast infection has cleared up by now), and opens with some chick named Pamela Darby proclaiming, “I need a man.” This is especially funny to me because I once knew a girl named Pam Darby, and she was just the type to sit around in coaches in the Scottish Highlands proclaiming her need for a man (incidentally, she was also the type to wear shoulder pads and perm her own hair).
Anyhoodle, this Pam Darby is sitting around in a coach in the Scottish Highlands with her half-sister Sophie, and they’re talking about how they need them a big dumb bohunk REAL BAD. See, Pam Darby and Sister Sophie are orphans. Their mother (who was
a whore an “actress”) died in a fire, and now they’re homeless and off on some jackassy quest to find the missing heir to a duchy. They want the reward money for the Lost Duke so that Sister Sophie won’t have to start actressin’ to keep them fed. They’re having some trouble finding the actual Lost Duke (who has been missing for nearly 30 years, apparently) so Pam Darby has cooked up a brilliant scheme to cash in with an Impostor Duke, hence the real bad need for a big dumb bohunk. So basically, this book is the same story as the movie Anastasia, only more cartoony (but with less animation). Thus far, there has been no singing and no indication of talking bats (named Bartok or otherwise).
Enter Boy, who is a very Naughty Boy indeed, as he enters committing highway robbery and holding up the coach carrying Pam Darby and Sister Sophie. Pam Darby’s cunning defensive maneuver is to tumble out of the carriage spouting critique of Naughty Boy’s cheesy dialogue. Oh, Pam. We know, honey. You’d think Naughty Boy would shoot Pam Darby right in her stupid dumb face for her insolence, but logic of any kind would make this a very short book indeed. As we are currently on page 28 out of 646, I think it’s pretty clear that Ms. Medeiros’ stance on logic remains unchanged from the first book.
Naughty Boy and Pam Darby banter (badly) back and forth for a minute, until Pam Darby tries to run away from him and ends up in his arms. I guess she has a very poor sense of direction. Then Pam Darby touches his face, and they make out. Honestly, I can’t tell you how many couples I know who hooked up this way. It seems like every girl I know tells the same story of, “Oh, he held me at gunpoint, and then suddenly we were macking on each other’s faces, you know?” Incidentally, Pam Darby says Naughty Boy smells like Pine Sol and smoke and tastes like booze. I guess that’s like the 19th century equivalent of Axe body spray.
So whilst this bantering and tonsil hockey’s been happening, Sister Sophie’s been sitting in the carriage, waiting patiently to be robbed. Having grown bored, she hauls ass out of the coach and beats Naughty Boy about the head and face with her parasol, breaking up the kissing. Then Naughty Boy’s brandishing his pistol again (not that one, perv), and we’re right back where we started in the last chapter, except now Naughty Boy is taking issue with Sister Sophie’s cheesy dialogue. God, we get it already. Everyone in this book is an idiot. Can we move the fuck on?
Apparently not, as the story now devolves into a discussion of Highlanders being more inclined to ravish sheep than women, and Pam Darby’s internal monologue about whether or not she’s a bad kisser and who really determines a man’s destiny. I’m really regretting how Naughty Boy didn’t shoot her in her stupid dumb face. Naughty Boy finally gets around to the thieving part of this robbery, and what, you may be wondering, does he want to steal? Why, their undergarments, of course. I shit you not, he actually says, “Drop your drawers and hand them over.” Pam Darby, of course, just drops trou right there on the side of the road and chucks her knickers at Naughty Boy’s face. Maybe she thinks he’s a Beatle or something. But Naughty Boy, upon seeing that Pam Darby’s knickers aren’t frilly and fancy, is horrified to realise that Pam Darby and Sister Sophie are — gasp! — POOR. He backs Pam Darby into a tree, at which point she pulls a gun out of her handbag and levels it at him. That Pam, she’ll happily make out with highwaymen, but damned if she’ll tolerate their snide remarks about her lingerie!
Pam Darby doesn’t shoot Naughty Boy, however. Oh, no. Instead, she up and decides that he’s exactly the big dumb bohunk they need for their Impostor Duke scheme. She ties him up, and then basically lets him be in charge of his own kidnapping, because WHY NOT? So Naughty Boy kidnaps himself to a crumbling castle on a cliff. Then he sends Sister Sophie off to have tea with a pirate and he sits Pam Darby in a chair and feels her up with her own gun, which plays music and shoots flowers, and then he gives her a foot massage. I swear to God I’m not making this up.
So then Pam Darby and Naughty Boy have a little heart-to-heart about the Lost Duke, and it turns out that Pam Darby’s dead whore mother was the bestest friend of the Lost Duke’s mother and she had some crusty old letter with clues to the search, which Pam Darby and Sister Sophie followed until they met some random crazy old lady who told them the Lost Duke died as a baby. That’s when they hatched the big dumb bohunk scheme, which brings us here, to some crumbling castle with Naughty Boy and a roomful of pirates and a musical pistol that shoots motherfucking flowers.
Then there’s a makeover montage! And guess what Naughty Boy’s new name is? Oh, you’ll never guess. It’s Percy Ambrose Bartholomew Reginald Cecil Smythe, Marquess of Eddywhistle.
…yeah. We’ll just stick with Naughty Boy.
The makeover montage ends with a kilt, because this is a romance novel so there’s gotta be some Highland shit up in this joint. It’s in the fine print section of the rules, I think. Then finally we’re in London at the Old Duke’s house, and after a bit of a kerfuffle involving a Belgian dwarf and a heart-shaped ass birthmark, we’re having tea with the Old Duke (who’s dying of consumption or some shit) and his bitchy sister, and the Old Duke is convinced that Naughty Boy is the Lost Duke. Then all of a sudden there’s a pretend engagement between Pam Darby and Naughty Boy, because WHY NOT? That night, Naughty Boy sneaks into Pam Darby’s room and they make out some more. Here’s a bit of trivia: it turns him on when she licks his chipped tooth. That shit ain’t sexy, yo.
Then a whole bunch of boring, pointless shit happens, until we get to a party where Girl and Jailbird show up! Girl’s not limping or anything, so it’s looking like that yeast infection really DID clear up. The meeting is pretty anticlimactic, though, because Girl doesn’t even recognise Naughty Boy. Some sister that dumb bitch is! She hasn’t seen him since she was ten, but I don’t have time for her paltry excuses. Neither does Naughty Boy, who drags Pam Darby away from the party and then fucks her (in the garden [in a Doric temple]).
Okay, look. There are 200 pages left of this book, but without even reading them I can already tell you that Naughty Boy isn’t the Impostor Duke, but really the actual Lost Duke, and it was Old Duke’s bitch sister who killed not only her husband, but Pam Darby’s whore mother (with fire, both of ‘em … that lady’s a total firebug). Also, I’m betting Lost Duke’s cousin ends up with Sister Sophie. This book is considerably less godawful than the first book, but it’s just as predictable and at least 1000% more boring. It turns out that romance novels really ARE better when they’re batshit insane, because at least then you can laugh at them.
Sarah Larson lives in Minnesota, where she is usually up to no good. You can occasionally find her at her woefully neglected blog, Anglesea Road.