Elizabeth Mazer

There’s something so delectable about a really juicy secret. The right kind of mystery or surprise hits a story like an earthquake, rattling things off the shelves and leaving everyone scrambling for stable footing. A secret can bring a story to life, lighting a fire under the characters and forcing them to decide what they truly value and how far they’ll go to protect themselves and their loved ones.

A HOUSE OF SCANDAL
Thomas Powell, heir to the Duke of Northfield and hero of Eva Leigh’s Dare to Love a Duke, is rich, handsome, capable, privileged, spoiled, dissolute and so bored with it all that the reader half expects him to run off to join the circus just to do something new. He believes he’s seen it all, until a friend takes him to a masked, equal opportunity sex club straight out of Eyes Wide Shut. Yet even when he’s surrounded by carnality in every imaginable combination, the only person to catch his eye is the beautiful and mysterious manager of the Orchid Club, Lucia Marini. Thomas’ pursuit of her is halted when his father unexpectedly dies, leaving him the title, the estate, a heavy load of responsibilities on his shoulders—and the absolutely stunning discovery that his staid, conservative father was the owner of the Orchid Club.

The club scenes are so sensually described by Leigh that they might have overshadowed the main plot if the characters were any less engaging and dynamic than Lucia and Tom. As it is, the wanton adventurousness of the club can’t hold a candle to the heat and tension that sparks between our hero and heroine, whether they’re dressed or not. The same passion they bring to the bedroom is reflected in all the aspects of their lives, as Tom grapples with how to balance his conscience and his sense of duty, and Lucia struggles to build a legacy she can be proud of in spite of a troubled past. Their road to happily ever after isn’t smooth or easy (where would be the fun in that?), but it leads to a fun and quite satisfying ride.

A HIDDEN PAST
By contrast, the heroine in Elizabeth Hoyt’s Not the Duke’s Darling seems like a perfectly respectable lady’s companion—as long as you aren’t aware of the spy work Freya de Moray secretly performs for the order of Wise Women, or the dark scandal in her past. But all her secrets risk exposure during at a house party where she’s targeted by witch hunters and in turn forced to interact with the man she blames for destroying her family. When Freya recognizes Christopher Renshaw, the Duke of Harlowe, she vows that she won’t waste this opportunity for revenge. The chemistry flaring between them is just the fiery passion of her hatred, right? Surely, it couldn’t be anything else . . .

There are so many secrets and scandals in this story that what I’ve written so far barely scratches the surface. (Are you looking for a neighbor who might be hiding matrimonial murder? This book has it. How about a secret affair with compromising letters leading to blackmail? Yep, they’re here, too.) There’s never a dull moment in Not the Duke’s Darling, and many of the truths revealed are genuinely shocking. But the biggest surprise may be how naturally the relationship between the characters grows from animosity, to attraction, to compassion, to respect. Falling in love with the “enemy” can be a hard sell, but Hoyt masters it beautifully. Most interestingly, the biggest obstacle between the two ends up being the future, rather than the past. In a period when wives were treated as not-very-bright pets rather than partners, Freya has trouble imagining giving up her independence. It takes a leap of faith to realize that Christopher truly sees her the way she wants to be seen, and intends to build a life with her as equals. Talk about shocking!

Boss and secretary. Doctor and nurse. Parent and nanny. Romance is filled with stories where the emotionally charged proximity of employer and employee cause hearts to ignite. But falling in love on the job can mean more than flirty innuendo over takeout while pulling an all-nighter, or steamy sex on the conference room table. These terrific new stories are playful and naughty and fun, but they’ve also got surprises up their sleeves.

Working for Logan Prescott is just about the last thing in the world Claire McKenna, heroine of Jamie Beck’s The Promise of Us, wants. Not only is he the boy-next-door, childhood crush she never quite got over, he’s also the brother of Peyton Prescott, her former bestie who betrayed Claire by stealing her boyfriend, Todd. It doesn’t matter that Todd fled after Peyton was diagnosed with breast cancer. All that matters is making sure her life remains Prescott-free forever and ever, amen. But Logan’s not willing to leave matters like that and tilts the situation in his favor by making Claire an irresistible offer—hiring her to redecorate his apartment, throwing her a financial lifeline to keep her beloved business going. And in the meantime, he throws in a seduction that turns her quiet life upside down.

Claire’s life needs a little rattling. After a traumatic injury during her teens, she’s spent her adulthood playing it stiflingly safe. Logan challenges her in a multitude of ways, though the author is wise enough to show that not all of those challenges pay off. She also plays with the usual expectations by showing that gorgeous, charming Logan is not always nice. He can be manipulative. Calculating. Downright cunning in the right mood and fiercely cutting in the wrong one. When Claire lists her reasons for why they won’t work, they aren’t strawman arguments—they’re real and rational, true challenges for them to overcome in a story where nothing ever seems like a foregone conclusion. Everything feels profoundly realistic, not only in the depth of the conflicts but also in the thorough grounding in the present, with references to current bestsellers, recent natural disasters, even topical man-made tragedies. The injury Claire suffered was from a mass shooting. A refugee crisis is referenced. This might be off-putting for readers seeking an escape from reality, but I think others will find it refreshing to turn the pages and meet people having serious discussions about real issues—as well as serious struggles against real obstacles as they find their way to each other.

“Struggling” is a familiar state to the hero and heroine of Under the Table. Zoey Sullivan is trying to rebuild a new life after the collapse of her marriage, turning a long-time passion for cooking into a semi-steady career as a private caterer. And Tristan Malloy, the very rich, very handsome, very, very shy hero who hires her to cater a small dinner party, is struggling to get out of his beautiful museum of an apartment and figure out a life to lead.

Tristan was raised in a quiet, sheltered Caribbean community by his grandparents who brought him up to have extremely polite, strongly principled and totally ignorant of modern media. The end result is a guy who appears to be “stuck in a time warp of manners, courtesy, and pleated pants.” Not one to avoid hard work, Tristan has come to New York to figure out what comes next. And not one to back away from a challenge, Zoey is determined to help. She takes him shopping for skinny jeans. She brings him to a nightclub. She introduces him to delivery pizza and Guitar Hero. But while she’s playing Pygmalion with Tristan, Zoey is also dealing with her own doubts and insecurities over her separation from her emotionally abusive husband, her mingled love and resentment of her carefree and careless sister/roommate, and her uncertainty about where she belongs.

It’s lovely to read a romance where the characters spend so much time being good to each other and good for each other. They don’t get everything right—there wouldn’t be much of a story if they did—but there’s no fighting just for the sake of building drama. Their intentions nearly always stem from a genuine desire to do what’s decent and honorable, which takes a kind of courage that’s rare and special. And while the ending didn’t have me totally convinced (the revelation of a secondary character’s motives didn’t quite ring true), I still admired the way the heroine made the final decision to confront her problems head-on, having the conversations she needed to have, even if they hurt. Both of the characters struggle throughout the book, but even more than the challenges that arise, you’ll remember the strength they showed in the face of them.

Long gone—and little missed—are the days when historical romance meant timid, angelic female leads swooning in the arms of dastardly, irresistible rogues we were told were heroes. These days, we have clever, witty authors crafting bold, charismatic heroines who are far more likely to seize a good brandy than clutch at their smelling salts.

Lily Hartley, of Anna Bennett’s The Duke Is But a Dream, knows quite a bit about style. At least, she knows enough to have all of the ton breathless with eagerness for her guidance. As the anonymous author of the wildly popular column The Debutante’s Revenge, she has created a scandal with her frank, liberal-minded advice, but her life away from the page is remarkably quiet—too quiet, tempting her to seek an adventure when she goes to deliver her column while disguised as a messenger boy. She couldn’t have known that her spontaneous jaunt would leave her knocked unconscious, or that she’d wake in the home of her rescuer, Eric Nash, Duke of Stonebridge, with her memory entirely gone. As she struggles to piece herself back together, Lily finds unexpected comfort in the friendship of the duke and his sister, Delilah—and unexpected passion in Nash’s arms. Meanwhile, although Nash and Delilah start out as rescuers, it’s lovely to see how Lily rescues them in turn, lifting them out of their sadness and breathing new life into their home. In this story of finding yourself, it’s the family the central characters create together that’s the most satisfying discovery of all.

Satisfaction is exactly what Brazen and the Beast’s Lady Henrietta Sedley is after on the eve of her 29th birthday—the commencement of what she’s christened the “Year of Hattie,” when she’ll finally go after what she wants: a career, a home of her own, financial security and a bright future. And to kick it off, she plans to discard her troublesome virginity so that she can close the book on ever becoming a bride. Always a wallflower and never a rose, Hattie’s resigned herself to the idea that she’s too tall, too big, too forthright and too indecorous to ever be the demure beauty men in her circle seem to want. She never thought to look outside her circle until she found a fierce, gorgeous beast of a man—Covent Garden crime lord Whit—tied up and unconscious in her carriage. And thus begins a merry chase as they battle and bargain and banter over what has been done to them, what they wish to do to each other and whether it’s more fun to fight with each other or fight for each other and for their rapidly growing love. Funny, playful and vivid, Sarah MacLean’s latest romance samples the best of both worlds with the earthy vigor of the slum’s crafty, loyal lower classes and the juicy intrigue of high society scandal.

Scandal and intrigue are the bread and butter of Miss Wilhelmina Penny’s world of spy craft and reconnaissance in Lenora Bell’s One Fine Duke. Or they would be, if her overprotective uncle—spymaster Sir Malcolm—would give her a chance. Secluded “safely” in the countryside, she’s spent years longing for the chance to take a bite out of life and swallow it whole; to become sophisticated and elegant like her lovely late mother, who died in service to the crown. Mina’s taught herself to pick locks, create weaponry and crack codes, but in order to escape her uncle’s well-meaning dictates, she’ll need to use the one tool he’s helpless against: an eligible duke. Determined to see her well married, Sir Malcolm has put together a “Duke Dossier” of the matches he thinks would take proper care of her. Topping the list is Andrew Bentley, Duke of Thorndon. Her uncle’s approval is enough to convince Mina that Drew could never be the man for her, and yet when they meet, sparks fly. They join forces to investigate a mystery surrounding his scapegrace brother, and yet the solution to her own personal puzzle surprises even Mina when she comes to learn that the duke she never thought she wanted was the secret key to her happiness all along.

Little girls like Prince Charming. Grown women like a different sort of man—a man with a little more edge, a little more stubbornness and grit. Prince Charming can sweep you off your feet, plucking you from your tragic backstory and escorting you into another life that’s shiny and new. But it takes a true hero to step up to be your equal, not your rescuer. To share your battles and take them seriously instead of brushing them all away. To appreciate and value you for who you are, rather than “saving” you from yourself by turning you into someone else. These grumps with hearts of gold prove themselves as worthy heroes by showing the women they love that they are and always have been heroines in their own right.

In Sarah Morgenthaler’s The Tourist Attraction, Zoey Caldwell certainly doesn’t think of herself as a heroine, even on the dreamiest of all dream vacations, visiting the Alaska wilderness she’s saved every penny to see. Though she’s visibly out of place with the ultra-rich jet setting crowd that fills the exclusive Moose Springs resort, she couldn’t be happier to soak up every experience, including a meal at the infamous local diner The Tourist Trap, run by grumpy local Graham Barnett. Graham hates tourists—with good reason. And after a series of mishaps that include an energetic kick to somewhere . . . indelicate on their second meeting, Zoey’s not exactly going out of her way to make a great impression. Yet it’s clear that she dazzles him from the start. Before he knows it, Graham’s breaking all of his rules: taking her to the best dives known only to the locals, going on godawful expeditions with her just to make her happy, and, most dangerous of all, giving his heart away to a woman who’ll be leaving after two weeks.

Graham’s soft heart makes an earlier appearance than you might expect given his forbidding demeanor, but that’s just because Zoey is so irresistibly charming, walking around with her own heart on her sleeve as she practically vibrates with love for his beautiful hometown. Graham warms to her quickly, but that doesn’t mean his rough edges have gone away, or that their love is destined for smooth sailing. (There is, in fact, a bout of very rough sailing that is simultaneously one of the cutest and grossest scenes of the book.) As with any good romance, it’s Graham and Zoey’s imperfections that make them such a perfect match, bringing out new sides of each other and opening each other’s eyes to new experiences, new perspectives and a new belief that love might actually be able to conquer all.

By contrast, the hero of A Duke by Any Other Name by Grace Burrowes is very slow to succumb to the charms of the heroine. In fact, it takes an invasion of pigs (not flying, sadly) before Nathaniel Rothmere, the Duke of Rothhaven, deigns to give Lady Althea Wentworth the time of day. Leaning hard into his reputation as Yorkshire’s leading crank/recluse, he has no visitors, pays no calls, shows no courtesies and gives not a flying fig for anyone’s opinion—which means, of course, that the town views him with great admiration and awe. It’s a position Althea desperately envies. Although she’s the beautiful, well-educated, extremely wealthy sister of a duke, her position is lower than low among the ton who resent her rise from poverty and obscurity, who seize every opening to deliver another petty, nasty, viciously “civilized” slight.

Turning to Nathaniel for advice is roughly akin to sticking her head in a lion’s mouth, but she’s desperate enough to try, and both bold and clever enough to succeed. He spars with her, in spite of himself. He likes her, in spite of himself. He even counsels her, giving really awesome advice in the process. (I now know precisely how to give the cut direct: “You notice, you hold in a contempt too vast for words, you dismiss.”) But even when love finds him—despite all the literal and metaphorical walls he’s hidden behind—the twisted bonds of a dark family secret mean he can’t give in to what he feels. Here again we see how the hero needs the heroine, how the only counterbalance for his darkness is her light, and how in turn his grounded nature helps to set her free.

As you might expect from two such strong and determined characters, the sparks that fly between Nathaniel and Althea are undeniably fierce. Their banter is quick-paced and witty, sharp as a fencing foil. Sharp too is the edge with which Burrowes portrays their circumstances. Both were victims of shocking cruelty from their earliest years. The story touches on themes of violent parental abuse, exploitation of physical and psychological disabilities and even child prostitution. But these heavy shadows are balanced by the honor and kindness Nicholas and Althea demonstrate, the warmth and dedication they give to each other and to their families and, most of all, by the beautiful love they slowly build and (even more slowly) accept between them.

Some stories are just baked into our hearts. We search the night sky for the second star to the right, so we can fly straight on till morning. We find balconies to stand on just so we can ask wherefore art thou Romeo. And when we try on a new dress and spin in front of a mirror, feeling beautiful—suddenly beautiful, like a surprise—we half expect to see a fairy godmother standing behind us with a magic wand. Each of these two romances puts a twist on a timeless tale, giving readers fun of falling in love with some of their favorite stories all over again.

Dex MacLean has a smile like sin and a body like a Hemsworth—all wrapped up in a kilt. Forget eye candy, the man’s a whole eye meal, and he’s been Stacey Lindholm’s summer hookup at the Renaissance fair for the past two years. But when Ren fair season is over and Dex's band is back on the road, Stacey feels a little lonely and reckless—and kinda drunk—and ends up sending a message to his fan page that she’ll deeply regret in the morning. Yet when the reply comes, her regrets start to fade. Through emails and texts, she finds herself falling for a man she’d dismissed as a shallow but sexy playboy. Maybe there’s more to Dex, maybe he’s a man worth loving after all.

Or . . . maybe not. Because there’s someone else behind the emails that kickstart Jen DeLuca's second novel, Well Played—a certain band manager who has always been in the other MacLean’s shadow. There’s a good bit of Cyrano de Bergerac to Dex's cousin Daniel as he woos Stacey: his humor, his kindness, his passion for her and his honesty about everything except for his name. But the heroine, delightful as she is, reminded me less of the beautiful Roxanne and more of Sleeping Beauty. She’s been sleepwalking through life ever since her plans for the future got derailed, staying in her small town where everything’s always the same and the rest of the world speeds on without her. It isn’t until love wakes her up that she finds the courage to chase after the life she wants. Stacey and Daniel find love easily—it’s recognizing it that’s hard. It’s a lesson Cyrano de Bergerac taught us that still rings true as this warm, funny, sincere couple stumbles into love, making us believe it once more.

At the start of Brass Carriages and Glass Hearts by Nancy Campbell Allen, you might struggle to see the Cinderella story there. Bold, outspoken—loudly spoken—Emmeline Castle O’Shea seems worlds away from Disney’s demure princess, and not just because she’s living in a steampunk version of Victorian London. As an activist for supernatural shifters, the first interaction we see between her and the hero consists of him dragging her away from a protest so he can throw her into jail. He hauls her over his shoulder, kicking and screaming; she threatens to bite him. You don’t exactly hear “So This Is Love” playing in the background. 

But though Emmeline is vivid and daring, at her heart is a wellspring of courage and kindness, filled with a commitment to helping and protecting those society likes to target and torment. And while Detective-Inspector Oliver Reed doesn’t initially seem to fit the mold of a chivalrous hero, he’s driven by a code of duty and honor that most princes, no matter how charming, could only hope to match. This is a story that stands—jumps, leaps, flies, races—all on its own, with plenty of plot points to dazzle and amaze (including a murderous conspiracy and a number of deadly, damning secrets), but in the end, it keeps returning to the core of who the characters are and what the Cinderella story means. Courage and kindness are rewarded. A valiant man overcomes every obstacle. A brave, adorably wonderful Gus Gus saves the day. And at a ball, surrounded by the most important figures in the land, love conquers all. This story is a dizzying, madcap adventure that will have you looking at happily ever after in a whole new way.