One of the best things about the holidays is that we all give in to indulgence of our Guilty Pleasures for weeks at time. Much chocolate and champagne consumption ensues – at least for this holiday-er.
As romance readers, though, we’re familiar with a different type of Guilty Pleasure: Books we love that we don’t necessarily want to admit to loving to our smart women friends who read romance, too. Your GP may involve an un-politically correct plotline or an over the top Alpha hero you would hate in real life – whatever your particular brand of GP happens be, it’s your bidness, right?
So, without further ado, let me take the cover off a few of my personal brand of Guilty Pleasures:
Yes, I’m one of those romance readers who fits the cliché: Just give me a box of bon bons and a shirtless duke in a cape and I’m all set.
Okay, so I’m not quite that clichéd. Bon bons have w-a-a-a-a-y too many carbs and just slapping the title on any wallpaper character doesn’t cut it.
I like dukes when authors make me actually believe they are dukes.
A sterling example is Mary Balogh in Slightly Dangerous. Much of the book is told from Wulfric’s POV and the reader knows that every fiber of his being is consumed by the responsibilities of his rank to his family, his tenants, and his servants. The life and livelihood of hundreds – and maybe even thousands – depend on him and he never forgets it even for one moment.