My Favorite Books

I realized yesterday that though I am a romance writer, I have shared little of what I like to read in the romance genre. I’ve been reading romance for almost thirty years and up until 10 years ago those romances were exclusively historicals, so it shouldn’t surprise anyone that my favorite romances are historicals. So behold, here are my top 10 favorite romances. They are set mostly in England in the 1800’s with a few set in America. I love me an alpha male, but I’ve got betas and some gammas too.  All of these books rate more than a 10, so if you want to read an amazing book, any of these will fit the bill. So in no particular order (except #1, which is my favorite) here are my top 10 favorite books.

 

1. Simply Love by Catherine Anderson—A contract, a determined man and a naïve girl lead to a wild ride.
2. Dark Fires by Brenda Joyce—My absolute favorite guardian/ward story!
3. Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas—This is the ultimate good girl/bad boy story. It also has one of my absolute favorite scenes in a book ever. Let me know if you find it.
4. Upon a Moon Dark Moor by—If you love Wuthering Heights but it left you dissatisfied, this is the book for you. Finally a HEA!
5. To Have and to Hold by Patricia Gaffney—A convict turned mistress and a lord, romances don’t get more unpc than this
6. Waiting for the Moon by Kristin Hannah—Amnesia, a group of misfits and a touch of the paranormal make this a fantastic read
7. Silk and Shadows by Mary Jo Putney—I simply love love love this book. If you like mysterious heroes, revenge and betrayal, you’ll love it too!
8. The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie by Jennifer Ashley—I wanted to read a book about a hero with Asperger’s and like she was reading my mind, Ms. Ashley wrote this amazing book.
9. Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas—I love nothing more than a villain turned hero and bonus points, it is tangentially related to Dreaming of You.
10. Wild at Heart by Patricia Gaffney—A feral man and the woman who helps civilize him.
11. The Wind Dancer by Iris Johansen--This is a bonus book, cause I just couldn’t help myself. It is set in Renaissance Italy and if you have a friend who looks their nose down at romance, give them this book and watch them change their mind.

A Thousand Words

Since a picture says a thousand words, I'll let this pic do all of the talking. Enjoy!

Love of a Good Book

I love chocolate, and television, X but there is nothing in this world I love more than a great book (my honey excluded of course). My happiest memory is of my twelve year old self snuggled up on my grandmother’s couch all by myself reading Little Women. I can still feel myself getting lost in the story while it snowed furiously outside. There was no place else I had wanted to be nor anything else I had wanted to be doing. I’d just wanted to escape into the world of the March sisters and let everything else fall away.

To this day reading an amazing book is my favorite past-time, it is almost like falling in love. As I type this blog entry I’m wincing. I’m currently suffering from carpel tunnel syndrome in part due to reading my Kindle nonstop for the past week. Damn the older versions with buttons. Even though I’m in pain and even though I have to go back to work tomorrow, and be on my computer for hours, I haven’t been able to tear myself away from the book I’m reading. So I happily suffer just so that I can find out what happens next with my stammering MC club hero and cult escapee heroine.  And it is so worth it.

Whenever I hear someone say that they don’t like to read or don’t like fiction, I feel so sorry for them. They’ve never experienced the wonders of becoming someone else or traveling through time or seeing the world from a whole new perspective. And that it is definitely a loss.

So instead of preparing for my 9-5 or even catching up with Orange is the New Black, once I’m done writing this post I’m going to pick my Kindle back up and fall in love all over again.

Bound to Love This

I love movies and romance and sex and a damn good plot, so of course I love the movie Bound. This mid 90's suspense should be on every movie lover's list of flicks to see. And if you like steamy, well Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly burn up the celluloid. Their chemistry is off the charts. This scene right here makes you want to grab a girl and kiss her, or at least that's what it makes me want to do :) Enjoy!

Hypocritical Much?

Hi my name is Mila and I’m a hypocrite. I don’t like admitting it, but sadly it is true. Saturday my boo and I went to see Trainwreck. I really enjoyed watching the heroine fall in and out of bed with men and joking about it. But as I was watching the movie and enjoying the walk of shame on film and imagining all of her others, I realized that Trainwreck’s heroine was the type I hate to read about in a romance novel.

I like virgins, young ones, older ones, heck even born again ones. I’ll even settle for a heroine who is experienced in bed, but just not too experienced, if you know what I mean.  I cringe at slutty heroines, those that will sleep with a ton of guys and not even blink an eye. The odd part of this is that in my non-romance world I like to consider myself a feminist.  I abhor slut shaming and I think women should be able to do whatever men do and not think twice. Want to have a one night stand? Good for you. Planning a threesome after lunch? More power to you. But for God’s sake don’t make me read about my heroine doing that in a romance novel.

You might be saying to yourself that this is an odd opinion but not a hypocritical one. Well here it is (please know I’m holding my head down in shame).  I have absolutely no problem if my hero is a man-whore or a rake or a “bad boy”. He could ball an entire cheerleading squad and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash. If my heroine even fantasized about blowing a soccer team I’d be put off and would probably stop reading the book. I know, I know, what kind of feminist am I?

I wish I knew why I love good girls and detest the bad ones in romances. Maybe it’s because I was a good girl many years ago. Or maybe I’ve been brainwashed into believing only good girls deserve happy endings. Perhaps I need to find some books about slutty girls and see if I like reading about how the other half lives.

Happy Ending Please

I was having lunch with friends today and the subject of movies and books came up. We all agreed we wanted a happy ending—in a romance that is, though I suppose we’d take one in real life too. This isn’t a surprise considering we all write romance but I’m sure we aren’t alone. So why is it that now a days we have to watch and read everything (including romances) with one eye closed, waiting for the ball to drop, or the gunshot to explode or the cancer to hit? Why can’t our heroes and heroines have their happily ever after?

Have you seen the promos for Nicholas Sparks’ latest movie The Longest Ride? It looks right up my alley—hot cowboy type, cute girl, guaranteed romance. Yes please. And yet I haven’t watched it because I don’t know who’s going to get the ax. I’m sure it is coming because in far too many of Mr. Sparks’ works he’s reluctant to give his couples a happy ending. My theory is that if they get to walk off into the sunset in one piece he’s written an honest to God romance and men don’t do that. In fact, most mainstream creatives don’t do that.

If we spend a good chunk of our lives pursuing and then maintaining love, why is it that watching and reading romances so shameful? Why can’t Nicholas Sparks be a true romance author and be proud? Why not give us romantics the happily ever after we crave? I read romance because I adore watching couples fall in love and create lives together. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Happy Birthday Clueless, Dammit!

I don’t have any children, so I have the luxury of not having daily reminders that the sands of time are sliding by me. When I do get reminders, it can be very jarring. I can firmly remember the first time pop culture made me feel old. It was over ten years ago and I was working at a middle school. Walking down the hallway one day I overheard a conversation about Wham. I’d smiled to myself listening to the girls talk about a group I loved, until I heard a girl refer to them as an old group from the 80’s. Old group, what! Wham was the bomb and very relevant. And then I realized that they hadn’t had a hit in a couple decades. Ouch. Damn pop culture, reminding me of my mortality.

I felt it again today. Innocently perusing the net, I stumbled on an anniversary story. The movie Clueless turned twenty this weekend. Yikes! Dionne and Cher can’t possibly be twenty years older. Because if they are that means I’m 4…. Well, I’m certainly older than 40. I loved Clueless back in the day and will stop and watch a scene or two (or the whole movie) when I catch it on tv. Knowing all of the crazy fashion and catch phrases are twenty definitely makes me feel past my prime. Ouch again. I suppose I need to remind myself that age is all in one’s head or even remind myself that aging is a good thing—the alternative is not something I want to experience any time soon. Hmm, maybe I need to rent Clueless for old time’s sake. And who knows, I might just have to mosey over to YouTube and catch a Wham video J