Rating: 4 Stars
Told in the first person.
Told in the first person.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book for review from Author’s Pal and the author. I was not compensated nor was I required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am posting this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising".
Meet the Author:
Harmony Williams has been living vicariously in Regency-era England since she discovered Jane Austen. Since time machines don’t yet exist, she’s had to make do with books—fictional and non-fictional. On the rare occasion she doesn’t have her nose stuck in a book, she likes to drink tea and spend time with her 90-lb lapdog. A feminist, she writes stories about strong women and the men who support them as equals.
In 1814 London, England, a lady is defined as a demure, delicate flower. Miss Francine Annesley is not that lady. If men were like plants, she would have a garden of admirers to choose from instead of the thorn in her side since childhood, Julian Beckwith. But she would make an even worse nun than she does a lady, which will be her fate if she can't dig up a husband before the Season ends. However, Julian is not an option.
With only ten short days left in the Season, Francine doesn't have time to waste on petty squabbles or knee-weakening kisses, even if Julian's offer to fulfill her every wish rouses her curiosity. It seems men are more complicated than plants. Too bad love bloomed at the most inconvenient of times...
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Francine Annesley is trying to escape her mother. Julian Beckwith is an old friend. Francine has an interesting friend, Mary that I wanted to get to know better. I couldn’t figure out if they got into more trouble together or if Francine does alone.
Throughout the whole book I was glad to see that Francine stayed true to herself. During that period of time, we know what men thought of women but Francine doesn’t care. She could have gone with convention and been miserable or she could have followed her heart. Her hobby is botany and I learned something new from her. I would like to think that as she got older her hobby got to be a lot more.
There are times where you have no choice but to chuckle as some of the scenes unfold. It’s a story where you could almost forget that it’s a historical romance. I’d like to think that Francine would enjoy seeing our century. If I had the chance to go back in time, I’d like to meet someone like Francine, Mary, and Rose. There isn’t much in the way of sexual interaction but you don’t want a lot here. If there had been more, it would have changed the tone of the story. The sad news is that I couldn’t find anything at all about whether or not there will be a third book in the series. You certainly don’t need to read book one in order to enjoy this book. But if you find that you would like to know more about Rose than you will want to check out How To Play The Game Of Love.
“Before you launch another harebrained scheme, ask me. At least while I’m in London.”
His proposal took me aback. I stared at him, mouth agape, as I tried to discern whether or not he meant the offer. I shifted my arms to cross them in front of my chest, but he stood too near. I couldn’t cross them without brushing his chest. The thought of touching him sent odd tingles over my skin.
“Why?” I asked finally. “So you can stop me?”
“Hardly.” He emitted an odd sound. I couldn’t decide if it was closer to a snort or a chuckle. He shook his head ruefully. “I doubt I can stop you once your mind is made up.”
I matched his smile. He had that right.
But…could I still trust him? This was Julian, the boy I’d known from birth. We’d embarked on more escapades than I could count, but never before as adults. Much had changed in the ten years since we’d lived adjacent to each other.
And my freedom was about to be cropped short.
On a whim, I said, “Kiss me.”
It was madness. He’d never do it.
He flinched. “Are you mad?”
“Hardly. If you want to fulfill my requests, then kiss me. Otherwise I’ll have to turn elsewhere.”
I didn’t mean it. I was the staid one of my friends, the voice of reason. Despite the way Mary flouted convention, I never stepped a toe out of line of my own volition. Maybe I should start.
Check out the Ladies of Passion series:
- Print copy of How to Play the Game of Love - US shipping ONLY. A digital copy will be sent if winner is International