It is my very great pleasure to review an instant favorite/forever keeper written by a new breakout author - and a debut one, at that. Not only did her first book receive 4 1/2 stars from Romantic Times, but it got this review from Publisher's Weekly:
"The Napoleonic era comes brilliantly alive in James's debut adventure romance. The pace never falters... The extensive historical detail goes a long way, but Sarah and Gabriel's heart-wrenching struggle to keep their love alive is what will really keep readers entranced throughout this epic read."
Judith James is a fellow Romance Writers of Atlantic Canada chapter mate. Oh, how I look forward to our monthly lunch-and-meeting combo. And Judith has been someone who makes the lunch absolutely fly by when she sits across from me.
Judith was at the writers' retreat our chapter holds every summer. For the past few years it's been at a private cottage, 20 minutes' walk from White Point Beach Resort, where this photo was taken.
You can just see her saluting behind missmakeamovie blogger Kelly Boyce, front row, right. I'm front row, left. I had many wonderful conversations with Judith during the retreat, especially since I presented a workshop on The Gray Character and used BBC's Robin Hood's Sir Guy of Gisbourne to illustrate my observations. Judith mentioned that she thought her soon-to-be-released book had a character whom I'd love. That would be Gabriel from Broken Wing. And of course she was absolutely right.
Broken Wing is a Medallion Press release under the Jewel Imprint: Sapphire Historical Romance category. Set at the turn of the 19th century, just after the French Revolution and during Napoleon Bonaparte's rise to power, Judith's novel rides the changing tides of the power structure of Europe. Her two main characters echo this sense of tightrope-walking, indefinable and mercurial.
We meet Sarah, Lady Munroe, as unconventional a young widow as ever sailed the seas in men's clothing, alongside her privateering cousin Davey. Back on land and in gowns befitting her station, she travels to Paris with her older brother Ross to claim her younger brother Jamie, long held prisoner in an upscale brothel.
Gabriel St. Croix was dropped off at the doorstep of Madame Etienne's discreet establishment when he was a very small boy. His beauty makes him a favorite of every depraved customer who frequents the brothel he calls home. Grown to manhood, he feels dead inside - until the arrival of another young boy (Sarah's brother Jamie) awakens a desire to spare an innocent from facing his own fate. Jamie keeps a spark alive inside of Gabriel. When news arrives that the boy's family has finally located him, and is coming to take him home, all that's left of Gabriel's heart crushes to pieces inside of him.
Judith's previous career as a counselor gave her a deep understanding of the confusing array of emotions swirling inside survivors of childhood sexual and physical abuse. Her portrayal of Gabriel rings with authenticity and shoots off into unpredictable directions.
She has a special dedication at the front of her book:
"This book is dedicated to the lost boys. God bless them. May they all find a place to belong, and someone to love them as they deserve." - Judith James
I especially appreciated the darker undertones to Judith's book. When it comes to tortured heroes, I'm rather gothic. I really want him to suffer. I want my heart to be crushed into tiny shards for him.
Gabriel is so perfect for me, it's scary.
Something I rejoice! Rejoice! in are the ways Judith flies in the face of most historical romance convention. As far as romance novels go, I'm historical-romance oriented. And as far as historical romances are concerned, I really only read the unconventional ones. There aren't really that many of them, to be honest. Judith's book takes me to all the places the major romance publishers would never dare to go.
What's also refreshing is Judith's portrayal of Sarah. She often surprises Gabriel with her reactions to him and his behavior. Though her actions and words make absolute sense to the reader, they still have a sense of originality that infuses every scene with discovery. We have not been down Judith's road before.
All the things that make Judith's book work are things for which the major houses would have requested rewrites. But do most conventional historicals get a stunning review from Publishers' Weekly?
Judith doesn't shy away from the emotional pain of surviving abuse. If that seems too edgy and harsh for a romance novel, to me it makes the healing power of love all the more precious and deeply moving. Though Madame Etienne's most valuable prostitute is undeniably, smoulderingly attractive, and Sarah herself knows how to fill out a pair of men's breeches as well as a frock, the true draw for these characters is their internal thoughts and feelings. Knowing what Gabriel thinks before he acts makes him utterly compelling, and there's no way to resist falling hard for him as a reader.
Though the characters' internal landscapes are vividly drawn and rich with authenticity, Judith doesn't scrimp on serving up a rollicking story. She takes us to locales that dare to exist beyond the confines of the English ton. The plot slices along like a rapier, and the cast of secondary characters is so vivid and solid you'll wonder how she managed to pack so much into one novel.
Judith had a book signing at the Indigo bookstore in Bedford's Sunnyside Mall last weekend. I dropped by to share her thrilling moment of actually being behind the table as a debut author.
Judith is part of a group blog which will be launching in the very near future. Hoydens and Firebrands will explore the world of the 17th century and features authors:
Anita Davison
Sandra Gulland
Kim Murphy
Mary Sharratt
Alison Stuart and
Holly Tucker as well as Judith.
I leave you with a final excerpt. Enjoy!
" 'You're drunk!'
'Completely foxed,' he agreed with a genial grin.
'How did you get in here?'
He crooked a finger toward the balcony. 'Tree.'
'What's wrong?' she asked gently.
'A bad dream,' he said tiredly. 'Nothing more.'
'Well, now that you're here, why don't you tell me about it? It might help you sleep.'
'Christ, woman, I came here for some peace, to escape it, not to wallow in it!' He pulled himself to his feet. This had clearly been a mistake.
'You don't honestly think you can escape it by ignoring it, or running away, do you?'
No, he'd never thought that. Only hoped. He'd hoped he might escape for awhile, by running to her, and hoping was the thing that would destroy him in the end. He knew it. He turned, glaring at her in the dark. 'Shall I tell you then, Sarah? Do you really want to know? Would you like to know what I was doing the night before you and your saintly brother arrived at Madame Etienne's?'
Her silence drove him on.
'I was auctioned off that night, my services for the evening, to the highest bidder. I did my best to appeal, as half the proceeds were mine to keep. I was a very valuable asset there, you know. I'm surprised she released me.'
He stalked toward her, his body tense, vibrating. His voice became cooler, deliberately seductive and compelling. 'It was a husband and wife, or a man and his mistress, a playful pair. I was the wicked footman' - despite his obvious tension, his voice sounded amused - 'burning with lust for my haughty countess. I was...tasting her, pleasuring her, a thing I'm very good at, when her husband arrived, catching us in the act. Naturally he was furious and determined to punish us both. I, the insolent servant, was taught to regret my impertinence by being bound to the bed and whipped by his lordship as his lady knelt between his legs. Fortunately, she was thorough enough that he was not inclined to complete his amorous designs upon my person.'
Silence. It continued unabated, except for their breathing. He knew he'd shocked her, had strangled something delicate that had been growing between them, and he wasn't done yet. 'And do you know what else, my dear?' he asked, his voice mocking. 'I thoroughly enjoyed it.' He wasn't sure what he expected from her - horror, condemnation and disgust, certainly not a reply as cool and detached as his own.
'Well, now, if you'd enjoyed it, it wouldn't be giving you nightmares, would it?'
Rage blasted through him, demolishing years of hard-won control. The bottle flew from his hand, shattering in the corner as a distant part of his brain noted that broken glass was becoming a habit, a different form of comfort. Damn her! Damn her! He took a ragged breath, then another, clenching his fists, refusing to look at her lest she provoke him to further violence. Stiffly he turned toward the balcony and disappeared into the night."
- Judith James, 2008
