The Code of Love by Cheryl Sawyer

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The Code of Love by Cheryl Sawyer Trade Paperback: 376 pages Publisher: Signet Eclipse First Released: 2006

Source: Bought from library sale

Back Cover Blurb:
To Sir Gideon Landor, an English prisoner in the French colony [on the Indian Ocean island of Mauritius], Delphine Dalgleish, a Parisian trifle who would think nothing of turning him over to the French legion, is as pretty--and as useless--as a porcelain doll. To Delphine Dalgleish, Sir Gideon is an ice-cold double agent she despises for his treachery.

But these two are about to discover how wrong first impressions can be. In the midst of the Peninsular War, Sir Gideon has orders to crack the Grand Paris Cypher, a complex code created for Napoleon. Meanwhile the emperor himself sends Delphine to London on a delicate espionage mission. When Gideon and Delphine confront each other, they manage to defend their dangerous secrets, but not their hearts. As passion takes hold, they must decipher their own complex code of love...

And still war draws them inexorably to the Peninsula, threatening their lives and testing an alliance that may prove stronger than two empires...

Review:
The book is a historical romance set in the early 1800's. The historical side of the story is well-developed, and the problems in the story come from the events happening at the time.

The characters are well developed and act in realistic ways. The pacing is good, and every scene serves a purpose. There is a fun "Pride and Prejudice" type proposal scene near the middle of the story. There are no explicit sex scenes, but the main characters do have sex after they're married. I'd rate this as "good, clean fun."

Excerpt: Chapter One

"Escaped prisoner!" On a hot night in July 1810, the news sped around the capital of Mauritius and sent a frisson through the veins of its inhabitants. Captain General Decaen might well run the island as though it were the tightest ship in the Indian Ocean, but this was a time of war, and the English fleets hovering over the horizon created a powerful sense of menace around the remote Bonapartist stronghold. Rodriguez was already occupied by the British, Bourbon had fallen only a week before, and it was to one of these islands that the prisoner must have been aiming, for having silenced two sentries he reached the port unseen and swam out to snatch one of the French navy pinnacles in the harbor.

Delphine Dalgleish, at her family plantation of Saint-Amour, received a hasty note from a neighbor about the escape, and read it with consternation. The prisoner was English, and enemy, so she should not care--but she did. It was too close to home. The soldiers of the legion had been just in time to retake him, he had been mauled by four men-at-arms and he was already in solitary confinement by the time society rose and took its chocolate and sweet rolls in the warm light of the next morning, but the shock of it stayed in the mind. With one dramatic gesture, this young British officer had shown how different he was from the other prisoners of war, most of whom lived amongst the French colonists in a spirit of understanding. He had acted with a violence and speed that ran counter to the ordered island ways, which was why his treatment by the legion had been so vicious.

It was three days before he was brought back to the Maison Despeaux, the Garden Prison from which he had broken out. He was scarcely able to walk. He had not spoken a word under interrogation, nor a syllable since. Only Delphine Dalgleish knew who had betrayed him to the legion, and she told just one other person, so no one else knew what to think. Which made a visit to the Garden Prison de rigueur at the earliest opportunity.

Star of the Morning by Lynn Kurland

Star of the Morning by Lynn Kurland Trade Paperback: 324 pages Publisher: Berkley Sensation First Released: 2006

Source: Bought from Amazon

Back Cover Blurb:
Darkness covers the north, since the black mage has begun his assault on the kingdom of Neroche. Legend has it that only the two magical swords held by Neroche's king can defeat the mage. Now the fate of the Nine Kingdoms rests in the hands of a woman destined to wield one of those blades...

In this land of dragons and mages, warrior maids and magical swords, nothing is as it seems. And Morgan will find that the magic in her blood brings her troubles she cannot face with a sword-and a love more powerful than she has ever imagined.

Review:
This is a "romance fantasy," where the book has a strong romance in a fantasy setting. The world-building is fairly good, and the characters are engaging. The pacing is good, and every scene serves a purpose. There are no explicit sex scenes, but the hero and heroine do kiss. The magic is of the typical fantasy sort, allowing a man to shape-change or be "invisible" or such. I'd rate this as "good, clean fun."

Personal note: As primarily a fantasy reader, I've always been disappointed that romance authors who try their hand at writing fantasy inevitably assume that "fantasy" means "doesn't have to be realistic." Yet the non-fantastical parts of a fantasy novel have to be solidly realistic in order to sell the reader on the fantastical parts. Lynn Kurland does a good job at keeping the realistic parts realistic and building an interesting fantasy world. (The one glaring example of where she flubs on realism is when she has Morgan, who's never been close to a horse before, able to ride, groom, tack, etc., a horse with expert skill the moment she comes in contact with it and without an lessons.)

Excerpt: Chapter One
Morgan of Melksham walked along the road, cursing both autumn's chill and her journey that caused her to be traipsing out in that chill instead of hunkering down next to a warm fire. This was not what she had planned. Her life had been proceeding quite nicely until she's received the missive in the middle of a particularly muddy campaign in which she'd been trying to pry one of Melksham's nobles from a keep that did not belong to him. The message from Lord Nicholas had been brief and pointed.

Come soon; time is short.

Morgan didn't want to speculate on what that might mean, but she couldn't help herself. Was the man suffering from life-threatening wounds? Was his home under siege from nobles he had exacted donations from once too often? Had he had a bountiful harvest and needed an extra pair of hands to bring that harvest to the cellar?

Was he dying?

She quickened her pace, forcing her thoughts away. She would know soon enough, and then that uncomfortable, unwholesome pounding in her chest would cease and she actually might be able to eat again.

The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale

The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale Trade Paperback: 383 pages Publisher: Bloomsbury USA First Released: 2003

Source: Bought from Amazon

Back Cover Blurb:
Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee, Crown Princess of Kildenree, spends the first years of her life listening to her aunt’s stories and learning the language of the birds, especially the swans. As she grows up Ani develops the skills of animal speech, but is never comfortable speaking with people, so when her silver-tongued lady in waiting leads a mutiny during Ani’s journey to be married in a foreign land, Ani is helpless and cannot persuade anyone to help her. She becomes a goose girl and must use her own special, nearly magical powers to find her way to her true destiny.

Review:
This is a "fairy tale re-telling" based on a Grimm's fairy tale. The world-building in this book is good as is the pacing. The characters act and change realistically throughout the book. The romance in the story develops slowly. There are a few kisses, but no sex. I don't recall any curse words being used. Overall, I'd recommend this as "a good, clean fun" novel.

Excerpt: Chapter One
She was born Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee, Crown Princess of Kildenree, and she did not open her eyes for three days.

The pacing queen directed ministers and physicians to the crib. They listened to her breathing and her hummingbird heart, felt her fierce grip and her tiny fingers soft as salamander skin. Al was sound. But her eyes did not open.

For three days the grave-faced attendants came and went. They prodded her, lifted her lids, slipped thick yellow syrups down her throat

“You are a princess,” the queen whispered to her ear. “Open your eyes.”

The baby cooed in her sleep.

When the third day had worn away to the lake blue of evening, a hand parted the nursery curtains. All was still for the night. The queen dozed on the bed. The baby in her crib dreamed of milk, her round, perfect lips nursing in sleep. A woman in a fern green robe pulled aside the curtains and tiptoed across the carpets. She slid her callused hands under the infant’s back and head, held her up, and grinned.

“Did you call me out of my house to come and tell you stories?” she said. “I will, my fat one, if you will listen.”

The queen awoke to the sounds of the rocking chair creaking and a voice singing about magpies and pigeons. She stood up, ready to call the guards, then saw that it was her own sister who sang to the baby, and that the baby was looking back at her aunt with wide eyes.

It was the aunt who shortened the crown princess’s name to Ani.

On clear days she took Ani to the north edge of the palace grounds where no wall had been built. That far out, the garden was allowed to stray out of its ordered beds and rows and merge with the occasional copse of ash and pine. The aunt felt easier there, and she held her niece’s small hand and named all she saw.

“You see the bird on the tallest branch there, the one with a yellow breast?” she’s migrating farther north now that the weather is warmer. The bluewing there is looking for twigs and says he has a found a picky mate.”

Ani began to speak sentences at one year. The aunt knew too well how Kildenreans disliked anything outside the common, and she tried to keep Ani’s progress hidden. But the household staff noted it, and rumours began that perhaps the queer green-clad nurse-mary possessed unnatural methods of awakening a child’s words.

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith Mass Market Paperback: 235 pages Publisher: Ancor First Released: 1998

Source: Library

Back Cover Blurb:
This first novel in Alexander McCall Smith’s widely acclaimed The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series tells the story of the delightfully cunning and enormously engaging Precious Ramotswe, who is drawn to her profession to “help people with problems in their lives.” Immediately upon setting up shop in a small storefront in Gaborone, she is hired to track down a missing husband, uncover a con man, and follow a wayward daughter. But the case that tugs at her heart, and lands her in danger, is a missing eleven-year-old boy, who may have been snatched by witchdoctors.

Review:
This book is not a typical "who murdered him/her" mystery. The first few chapters focus mainly on the heroine, how her agency got set up, and a bit about her country. The book then focuses on the local-flavor of crimes she solves by mainly using her wits. If you're a person who likes to learn about different cultures, then this is an entertaining way to do so. If you like straight who-do-its, then this book (or, at least, the first few chapters of the book) may have less appeal for you.

There are no explicit sex scenes or cussing. I'd rate this as "good, clean fun."

Excerpt: Chapter One
Mma Ramotswe had a detective agency in Africa, at the foot of Kgale Hill. These were its assets: a tiny white van, two desks, two chairs, a telephone, and an old typewriter. Then there was a teapot, in which Mma Ramotswe--the only lady private detective in Botswana--brewed redbush tea. And thee mugs--one for herself, one for her secretary, and one for the client. What else does a detective agency really need? Detective agencies rely on human intuition and intelligence, both of which Mma Ramotswe had in abundance. No inventory would ever include those, of course.

But there was also the view, which again could appear on no inventory. How could any such list describe what one saw when one looked out from Mma Ramotswe's door? To the front, an acacia tree, the thorn tree which dots the wide edges of the Kalahari; the great white thorns, a warning; the olive-grey leaves, by contrast, so delicate. In its branches, in the late afternoon or in the cool of the early morning, one might see a Go-Away Bird, or hear it, rather. And beyond the acacia, over the dusty road, the roofs of the town under a cover of trees and scrub bush; on the horizon, in a blue shimmer of heat, the hills, like improbable, overgrown termite mounds.

Crown Duel by Sherwood Smith

Crown Duel by Sherwood Smith Mass Market Paperback: 480 pages Publisher: Firebird Fantasy First Released: 2002

Source: Bought from Half.com

Back Cover Blurb:
Battle on and off the field, with sword and fan, with might and manners...

It begins in a cold and shabby tower room where young Countess Meliara swears to her dying father that she and her brother will defend their people from the growing greed of the king. That promise leads them into a war for which they are ill-prepared, a war that threatens the homes and lives of the very people they are trying to protect.

But war is simple compared to what follows, when the bloody fighting is done and a fragile peace is at hand. Although she wants to turn her back on politics and the crown, Meliara is summoned to the royal palace. There she soon discovers that friends and enemies look alike and intrigue fills the dance halls and the drawing rooms. If she is to survive, Meliara must learn a whole new way of fighting--with wit and words and secret alliances. In war, at least, she she whom she could trust. Now she can trust no one...

Review:
This book was originally published as two books: Crown Duel and Court Duel. While this is a traditional fantasy, Meliara isn't a very good swordwoman and mainly relies on her wits and the friendships she builds. The first book centers around a war, so there is a good bit of fighting and running. In the second book mainly focuses on court intrigue and has very little swordplay.

The worldbuilding is strong, and the culture is unique. Meliara is a bit exasperating at times in the first book, but that's fixed in the second book. The characters are engaging, and the pacing is good. There are no sex scenes, but there is kissing. In the second book, there is some traditional magic wielded by the villain. I'd rate this as "good, clean fun."

Excerpt: Chapter One
The broken shutter in the window creaked a warning. I flung myself across the table, covering as best I could my neat piles of papers, as a draft of cold wind scoured into the room. Dead leaves whispered on the floor, and the corners of my moat of papers rustled. Something crashed to the floor behind me. I turned my head. It was the soup bowl I'd set that morning on an old, warped three-legged stool and promptly forgotten.

The rotted blue hanging in the doorway billowed, then rippled into quiescence. The whispers and rattles in the room stilled, and I sat up with care and looked at the bowl. Could it be mended? I knew Julen would be angry with me. Julen was the blacksmith's sister, and the mother of my friend, Oria. After my mother died she looked after me, and she had of late taken over cooking for us. Crockery was hard to come by these days.

I reached for the pieces, my blanket ripped--and cold leaked up my arm.

I sat back on my cushion, staring down in dismay at the huge tear at my elbow. I did not look forward to the darning task ahead--but I knew that Julen would give me one of those looks she was so good at and calmly say that practicing my darning would teach me patience.

"Mel?"

The voice was Bran's. He tapped outside the door, then lifted the hanging. "Meliara, it's time to go see Papa."

Ordinarily, Branaric never called me Meliara, but I was too distracted to notice right then.

"Bran!" I leaped to my feet. "I did it--just finished! Look!" I pulled him into the room, which had once been a kind of parlor for the servants, back when the castle had had plenty of servants. Pointing proudly at the table, I said, "I know how to cheer Papa, Bran. I've found us a way to pay this year's taxes! It's taken me two days, but I really believe I have it. It'll buy us another year--you know we need another year. Look," I babbled, stooping down to tap each pile of papers. "Every village, every town in Tlanth, and what it has, what it owes, and what it needs. Not counting the gold we set aside for our Denlieff mercenaries--"

"Mel."

I looked up, my mouth still moving; but when I saw the stricken look in Bran's eyes, all the plans fled from my mind...

The More I See You by Lynn Kurland

The More I See You by Lynn Kurland Mass Market Paperback: 400 pages Publisher: Berkley Romance First Released: 1999

Source: Library

Back Cover Blurb:
A wish upon a star transports the luckless-in-love Jessica Blakely back in time to the thirteenth century. But her desire for a fair and gallant knight yields the fearsome Richard De Galtres. Though wary of Jessica's mysterious ways, Richard protectively harbors her in his castle by the sea. Though her stubborn will nearly drives him mad, the very sight of her puts a smile on a face that has known too few. And when Jessica's tender desire pierces the armor around his heart, Richard fears he may never be able to recover--or resist...

Review:
The book is a historical romance set in the medieval period. The world-building in this book is excellent, and the characters are well-drawn. The pacing is good, and every scene serves a purpose. There are no explicit sex scenes, but the main characters do have sex after they're married. The only magic is the wish upon a star that transports Jessica through time. I'd rate this as "good, clean fun."

Excerpt: Chapter One
Jessica Blakely didn't believe in Fate.

Yet as she stood at the top of a medieval circular staircase and peered down into its gloomy depths, she had to wonder if someone other than herself might be at the helm of her ship, as it were. Things were definitely not progressing as she had planned. Surely Fate had known she wasn't at all interested in stark, bare castles or knights in rusting armor.

Surely.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to examine the turns of events that had brought her to her present perch. Things had seemed so logical at the time. She'd gone on a blind date, accepted said blind date's invitation to go to England as a part of his university department's faculty sabbatical, then hopped cheerfully on a plane with him two weeks later.

Their host was Lord Henry de Galtres, possessor of a beautifully maintained Victorian manor house. Jessica had taken one look and fallen instantly in love--with the house, that is. The appointments were luxurious, the food heavenly, and the surrounding countryside idyllic. The only downside was that for some unfathomable reason, Lord Henry had decided that the crumbling castle attached to his house was something that needed to remain undemolished. Just the sight of it had sent chills down Jessica's spine. She couldn't say why, and she hadn't wanted to dig around to find the answer.

Instead, she'd availed herself of all the modern comforts Lord Henry's house could provide. And she'd been certain that when she could tear herself away from her temporary home-away-from-home, she might even venture to London for a little savings-account-reducing shopping at Harrods. Yet before she could find herself facing a cash register, she'd been driven to seek sanctuary in the crumbling castle attached to Lord Henry's house.

The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley

The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley Mass Market Paperback: 256 pages Publisher: Ace Fantasy First Released: 1982

Source: Bought from Walden Books

Back Cover Blurb:
This is the story of Corlath, golden-eyed king of the Free Hillfolk, son of the sons of the Lady Aerin.

And this is the story of Harry Crewe, the Homelander orphan girl who became Harimad-sol, King's Rider, and heir to the Blue Sword, Gonturan, that no woman had wielded since the Lady Aerin herself bore it into battle.

And this is the song of the kelar of the Hillfolk, the magic of the blood, the weaver of destinies.

Book Description:
Since the blurb is a bit cryptic, here's a quick description:
Harry Crewe is brought to live in a desert country named Damar. Her life is quiet until the night she's kidnapped by Corlath and taken deep into the desert. She doesn't understand why she's been kidnapped, but she's treated kindly. She discovers that she's learning the new language, culture, horseback riding, and even swordplay exceptionally quickly. She's shocked when discovers why, and why the kelar in Corlath's blood demanded she be brought back with him. For war is coming...

Review:
The book is a "worldbuilding fantasy." The world-building in this book is excellent and a lot of time is spent on it. The pacing is a bit slower, but every scene serves a purpose. The characters are engaging. There are no sex scenes, but there is some kissing. There is hereditary magic ("kelar") in this book which only the two main characters have, and it comes with a price. I'd rate this book as "good, clean fun."

Excerpt: Chapter One
She scowled at her glass of orange juice. To think that she had been delighted when she first arrived here--was it only three months ago?--with the prospect of fresh orange juice every day. But she had been eager to be delighted; this was to be her home, and she wanted badly to like it, to be grateful for it--to behave well, to make her brother proud of her and Sir Charles and Lady Amelia pleased with their generosity.

Lady Amelia had explained that the orchards only a few days south and west of here were the finest in the country, and many of the oranges she had seen at Home, before she came out here, had probably come from those same orchards. It was hard to believe in orange groves as she looked out the window, across the flat deserty plain beyond the Residency, unbroken by anything more vigorous than a few patches of harsh grass and stunted sand-colored bushes until it disappeared at the feet of the black and copper-brown mountains.

But there was fresh orange juice every day.

She was the first down to the table every morning, and was gently teased by Lady Amelia and Sir Charles about her healthy young appetite; but it wasn't hunger that drove her out of her bed so early. Since her days were empty of purpose, she could not sleep when night came, and by dawn each morning she was more than ready for the maid to enter her room, push back the curtains from the tall windows, and hand her a cup of tea.