Rules of Surrender (Governess Brides Series #1) Book

I'm going to be honest. Christina Dodd has long been on my list of favorite authors of romance fiction. The Governess series was one of my first forays into the genre, back in the day. While I intend to give Ms. Dodd another chance, I remember liking this book a lot better back then. Perhaps because I got into romance novels after my roommate and I got dumped from long-term relationships in the span of the same weekend, so we cheered ourselves up by buying a bunch of romance novels and trading them back and forth throughout the week. So perhaps I wasn't really paying much attention to what I read.

With a shiny new Kindle in hand this Christmas, I decided to start at the beginning and re-read some novels I have particularly enjoyed in the past. Reading through "Rules of Surrender" again, I have to wonder...what was I thinking? Is the Kindle book an inherently different novel than the physical copy I read back then? Or, as a teenager, did I just not use critical reasoning skills when I read novels? I'm suddenly ashamed of my younger self.

The "hero" is one of the least likeable of any I've come across in romance novels. A lot of his dialogue is downright laughable. It reminds me of Khal Drogo from A Game of Thrones...only bad. Way, WAY more over the top. I couldn't understand why the heroine would ever fall in love with such an ass...or even how she could take him seriously. (Honestly, if I'd read him call his child, "Fruit of my loins!" one more time, my eyes would have rolled out of my head. And that's just ONE example of the ludicrousness of the dialogue. Bear in mind, this character lived in England until he was in his TEENS.)

There really wasn't a single character in this book that I really LIKED. Other than perhaps the children, who were generally okay. But if I'm reading a romance novel and am finding the CHILDREN to be the most engaging part, there's something seriously wrong. I didn't have any big objections to Adorna, the grandmother, but I didn't end up really thinking one way or another about her. For being in the book a significant amount, she was something of a non-entity to me.

The heroine is...very proper. And not a great deal of fun. I can't think of a single moment in the book that made me smile, but if there was, it certainly didn't come from her character. I honestly cannot think of a heroine in any romance I've ever read that was so singularly unamusing. She has no sense of humor that I could discern. Then again, if I were tied to this "hero" in a novel, I wouldn't be laughing, either.

Yet, as bland as the heroine is, she is LEAGUES above the "hero". Given that she's a bit "bottom of the barrel" that's saying something. The "hero" is an arrogant, conceited ass. Granted, it's pretty common for a hero to START a novel that way, but when he's no different 90% in as he was in the first chapter, that's a huge problem. On my Kindle, this book is 200 pages. On page 189, the "hero" is no less of an arrogant, self-centered, conceited jackass than he was on page 18. Typically, even if the HEROINE thinks that the hero doesn't love her at this point in a novel (as the "reveal" often comes quite late in these books), the AUDIENCE knows differently. But when Charlotte thinks he doesn't love her, I find myself right there with her.

Happily (?), this situation is eventually resolved (on page 194 of 200). The children say, "But you DO love her! You're ENGLISH!" and his reaction is to essentially go, "Egads, I suppose you're right! Suddenly, I remember my biological father for perhaps the first time in this entire novel, and I have seen the light!" So...that's...believable. I guess. Well, believable or not, it's what we're left with. (The author also seems to realize the absurdity inherent in this "development" because the heroine's response to his profession of love is, "He didn't mean it. He couldn't have changed his mind in so little time. Yet he looked earnest enough, and she couldn't imagine why he would lie." Charlotte replies to his declaration, "Really?" Which was exactly my response, though I said it in I'm sure a different tone than the author intended the heroine to utter this word.)

The development of the "romance" is completely unsettling. The "hero" forces her to marry him by publicly humiliating and compromising her, knowing she will be left with no recourse but to marry him. She agrees to marry him because she knows that it's either that or flee the continent. The romance practically drips off the page with that basic premise. Bear in mind - AGAIN - that this is fairly late into the book. It's not like this happens in chapter 2 and the rest of the book is about the two of them growing together. She swears that she'll not be a wife to him, so he 1) shoots open the door to her room, 2) carries her like a sack of potatoes to a bed, and 3) when she refuses to undress, he whips out a knife and literally cuts her clothes off of her.

When I read the sentence, "He pointed his knife at her. She gave in to panic and ran," my heart nearly palpatated out of my chest. Not in the way the author intended, however. And when I later read, "You are a good" - rip! - "civilized" - rip! "dutiful lady of England. ... You will submit to your husband as the law and custom demand," I thought I would swoon from the sheer amount of ROMANCE that imagery instilled in me.

I'll be honest. This is not the first scene I've read in romance novels where the author writes a scene that could come off or does come off like a rape scene but the author intends for it not to be. I have no doubt that's NOT how the author intended for this scene to come off. However...she failed. Epically. I can't even understand how she didn't realize how badly she'd missed the mark. At this point in the book, the heroine thinks the "hero" doesn't love her, that he views her as property, and that he cares absolutely NOTHING for her as anything more than a piece of property and a sexual conquest. And, at this point in the book, the "HERO" believes (and in every way reinforces this belief such that I think he's probably right in his belief) that he doesn't love her, that he views her as essentially his property, and that he cares absolutely NOTHING for her as anything more than a piece of property and a sexual conquest.

When you have established that a "hero" views his new wife in this fashion, he has categorically ignored her protests to his sexual advances and done as he darn well pleased, and he starts the sex scene by saying, "This is my day. You are my wife. I will do with you as I please," well...how is this to come off as anything BUT a rape scene? Oh, *I* know why! Because she secretly LIKES it! Her body responds to his actions, so that makes it okay! It's not rape! (What a lovely - and incidentally inaccurate - message to send.)

Even following this scene, the "hero" cares so little for the heroine that when she tries - yet AGAIN - to tell him why she's unhappy and what she wants from him (for him to love her and NOT treat her as "not the center of his universe, but a convenience to make his life easier, a mere planet dependent on the mighty sun" ... when she tells him that he'll put her in a little mental compartment and so she'll essentially do the same, he laughs in her face. He literally laughs at her and says, in essence, "No you won't! You like having sex with me too much!" And, somehow, that "scores a direct hit" with her.

Incidentally, the "hero"'s advice for his mother's suitor, when he's told that Adorna wants an affair, not a marriage, is "abduct her." Then he goes on and on about how it's the proper and best thing to do. The author treats this advice as being perfectly acceptable, as the "hero" then talks about how Bedouins will abduct a woman from another tribe, drag these women off into the desert, and keep them there until they are so overcome by the strength of the abductor's passion that they fall desperately in love with them. Ms. Dodd, I have only this to ask: What. The. Frack?

I don't even know what else I can say to explain just how unimaginably BAD this book is. Even if you can get past the "plot" (there's some sort of embezzlement going on. Don't worry about it, because it's generally forgotten through the book until it's resolved at the end in THE most ludicrous way ever) and the HORRIFYING character "development" (which doesn't exist. The "hero" starts off as a scumwad and ends up as a scumwad, until a light-switched epiphany makes it all okay), the writing is sub-par for a Dodd book. If you don't believe me, I point out this example: "Wynter bounded up the stairs to her side. His fair hair and his earring glittered almost white with his wrath." If anyone can explain to me how someone's hair and earring can "glitter with wrath" - or how one's wrath can somehow transfer itself into one's hair and jewelry to make it glitter more brightly than it otherwise might...I will retract this entire review.

If you want my recommendation, do yourself a favor and skip this book.