The Chronicler knows that she should be doing her reading, typing up the notes from last session and well, tidying the house, but she feels she must share the following two snippets of news:
Firstly, she has found a romance novel that meets her exacting standards: Jo Beverley's "The Shattered Rose". It is now officially her favourite romance novel. It is not perfect, but it felt right. If the Loinfire Club was reading this there would be few causes to drink save the odd reference to heat and perhaps a use of the word "sensual" or two and such things could but be forgiven in the wake of all the characters in the book being fundamentally sensible people who read their brief. Most of the romance is written in a rather understated manner - with some undue flourishes, but not too many - and that appeals immensely. Gushing - quite possibly of the unamusing variety - will appear in due couse.
Secondly, "My Fair Viking" is a terrible book. Really, really bad. The Chronicler was ready to declare Adam the Healer the most odious hero of all time when the Anthropologist reminded her of the Knight of Darkness. It is truly terrible. What is perhaps most remarkable is that it is Sandra Hill's eighth book concerning vikings and in all that time she had not managed to do more research. Rant will no doubt result.
(Given that the Chronicler spent last year chiefly scribbling about Norse and Anglo-Norman literature - also the Robin Hood rhymes, but that his hardly relevant here - she feels that it is not through unfamiliarity or overfamiliarity of period that she objects to one and not the other.)
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