Bitchery reader JC writes:
I want to go back to the first
romance I remember enticing me.
I cannot remember the colour of the book, the names of the characters, or
even the year it was set in, though it was probably written in the mid 90s.
It was an historical, probably Regency. The only sure thing I can remember
was the scene that sold book for me: the Hero settling in for a quiet drink
in his study, self assured in his (mis-)assumptions of the Heroine, when a
close friend/father figure/trusted servant unknowingly blabs the innocent
truth about said Heroine’s past, and the Hero shatters the glass in his
hand. He has a great self-flagellating moment while he realizes what a dick
he has been, while his friend who just delivered the plot turn says
something equivalent to…Dude, your hand! And the book has a wonderful
description blood and glass everywhere with the Hero replying something
along the lines of “My hand, who cares about my hand! I was a Dipshit.”
If any of your readers can remember a book based on this scene I would be
eternally grateful and wonderfully surprised. Unfortunately, since this
scene is the only thing I remember from the book, I think I must have a
little sadist streak in me that may never be gratified.
Ah, the glass shattering in his hand with the strength of his manly, furious grip. RAH! Do you remember this book? I can think of a few times when the threat of the glass shattering was made, but most of the time he has the sense to put down the glass first.
And what kind of glass was he drinking from anyway? The kind that are made extremely fragile on purpose so you can stomp on them at Jewish weddings? (“MAZEL TOV! You’re a dipshit!”) I’m holding a glass in my hand and there’s no way I could shatter it. What the hell is he drinking from?