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Title: Surrender to the Night
Author: Evelyn Rogers
Publication Info: Zebra 1991
ISBN: 978-0821734445
Genre: Historical: European
[This is a guest review from reader R. who found her long-lost romance thanks to the Bitchery and a HaBO that was SO funny I laughed so hard I could barely speak. Read on for more adventure in way-back romance!]
Surrender to the Night
(Or that book I ran into 18 years ago when I was 13, and finally got 3 days ago, thanks to the Smart Bitches and the Bitchery)
For real, guys, I can’t thank you enough. I feel like a niggling mystery from my early teenagerhood has finally been solved. I suppose it feels that way because that’s exactly what happened.
And oh! I HAVE SO MANY WORDS ABOUT THIS BOOK. So pull up a chair, I brought some cinnamon rolls and some coffee (but not that weak shit they actually sell at Toby’s. Oh god, I can’t do that to you. Last time we drove up there, Christmas 2009, I got a cup of coffee, and nearly spit it out and looked at my mother with HORROR and demanded to know if all Toby’s coffee was always this bad, or was this a particularly thriftful day in the ratio of coffee beans to water? She looked at me like I was crazy). (This is a common look my mother gives me. Bless.)
Anyway, here we go. (Um, I’m gonna spoil the shit out of this- [but] the book is 19 years old, so…)
First we are introduced to Our Hero, Clay. Clay is a Texan. He has a Texan ranch, with a Texan horse, and Texan BFF, and Texan boots, and has a Texan accent, and he REALLY loves boning Texan women. He’s got at least three he keeps in regular, erm, contact with. He is not a douchebag, however, and we are told this because he doesn’t like the idea of eating fried bull testicles (mountain oysters).
BUT WAIT. THERE IS MORE.
Not only is Clay a Texan in all ways Texas, he is ALSO, at the VERY SAME TIME, British Nobility. That’s right, our favorite Texan is also a Viscount and the heir apparent to an Earl. (Which leads into the hilarious line of “The Earl of Harrow is my daddy.”) But he’s more proud of being a Texan. I mean, who wouldn’t be? This viscount business just gets people all flustered. He also has a penchant for wearing open-throated shirts, mentioned the first three times we see him, to the point that the first time Jenna sees him wearing a cravat, she muses that she really didn’t expect him to be wearing anything other than an open-throated shirt. (As someone on LJ pointed out- technically all shirts are open throated- how else does you get them over your head?)
Jenna, on the other hand, is not a Texan. She is English, even though she was born in South Africa, where her father was killed as a innocent bystander of the Boer Wars, she was brought to England by her aunt or something, who was then immediately killed in a train wreck, which gave Jenna a blow to head so she went deaf, where she was then given over to the Deaf and Dumb Asylum in London, where her hearing came back two years later, and THEN she taught the younger kids until she was twenty, and then got work as a governess, where the husband tried to insist that her duties included a little what what, she objected, he insisted most insistently, she shoved him, he cracked his head open, and she ran off just ahead of a murder arrest, hid in the slummy tavern of the cover copy, pretending to be deaf, where she eventually ran into Clay.
Everyone got that?
As for why she insisted on hanging around this horrid tavern rather than, I don’t know, GETTING THE HELL OUT OF LONDON, she ran into two little plot device moppets with no mother and an absentee father and a working bathroom with running water. She Just Couldn’t Leave Them, or her opportunity for a bath (girlfriend likes to be clean). So she would beg money and make sure they had food and stuff.
Which leads us to The Plot. And really, there’s about three plots here that dart in and out of existence. First, we have Jenna and her whole murder charge issue. There are cops looking for her, so she disguises herself and is pretty smug about the whole thing. Halfway through, the Adorable Little Plot Moppets’ Absentee Father gets rounded up on a robbery charge (“They was robbing the Queen’s jewels they was!”), which was a robbery that Jenna overheard the planning phase of when she was pretending to be deaf. So first Jenna abducts the Plot Moppets, then when the Victorian London Child Protective shows up and takes the Plot Moppets away to an orphanage, she FINALLY is spurred to some action. But all the crap doesn’t even happen until the middle of the book. And, of course, there’s the Great Misunderstanding Betwixt Hero and Heroine.
Clay ends up in the crappy ass tavern because he’s slumming it with some of his English buddies (like you do). The wife of the owner of the tavern hits on him, and he’s like “no thank you I prefer my women not vile” and she plot with one of the regulars (who is involved in the robbery subplot above) to kill him because she’s pissed. What does her co-conspirator get out of the deal? Clay’s boots.
To be fair, they are nice boots. We know, because Jenna tells us. A LOT.
So Jenna, as the cover copy says, trails him to his lodgings, which is the Earl of Harrow’s London house, but also apparently serves as a frat house for the well-heeled single men of London, sneaks into his room in the dead of night, wakes him up, tells him not go slumming anymore, and leaves. She then goes back, because she’s madly in love with him, and they get it on. She muses that she really would have liked to hear some sweet nothings, rather than a “Get into bed” but beggars can’t be choosers. Literally. It’s lovely, she leaves, he finds the red hair after she had told him her hair was black, and then he finds “the disturbing evidence of her innocence.” (It’s also said later he found some of her “private hairs” so he knew she was natural redhead) (…)
At this point, Plot A rears it’s intermittent head, and Jenna sees some men asking about her, mentioning a 1000 pound reward, so she runs to Clay’s room (again, in the middle of the night) determined to tell him the whole truth and get him to help her. She blurts out the wanted for murder thing, and a number of other things about her past, and the exchange goes something like this:
Him: LIES you were a virgin and denied it when I asked which means YOU ARE A DIRTY LYING WHORE.
Her: ….
Him: ….
Her: That’s…. not how it works.
Him: WHY AM I THE ONE GETTING INTO TROUBLE WHEN YOU ARE THE LYING WHORE
Her: Whatever. Lets get it on. (“Let’s ride.”) (NO REALLY)
Me: ::facepalm::
So, because he won’t believe the truth, and won’t let her go until she tells him the truth (….) she makes a bunch of shit up about how she’s a society girl just in it for a laugh, they have some irritated with each other but still pretty hot sex, and then she vanishes. He then goes to ALL THE PARTIES and hits on all the redheaded upper class women to find her, and he does, completely by accident: she’s working as a temporary serving girl at one of those parties.
And this is where the almost-rape scene is. He tracks her down, and demands to know the truth, and she’s like “we tried that and you didn’t believe it, so go away.” He then pulls her down to the bearskin rug (OF COURSE) and is about to have his way with her while she’s sort of fighting but doing that “Gawd he’s hot if only he weren’t such a douchebag I’m totally in love with!” thing, and the mistress of the house walks in. Jenna is sent packing and Clay is ripped a new one by this friend of his mother’s, and then he feels really guilty about the whole thing for a while. She doesn’t harbor any real resentment, except that she did lose her job and all future employment as a domestic servant (gossip network in Victorian London being worse than twitter), and he does some soul searching about being a dick. (Also he mopes a bit at not being attracted to other women anymore once his Mighty Wang found the Magic Hoo Hoo.)
Now, you’d think some of these plots would collide. But they don’t, except as to how Clay sort of wanders into all of them and “fixes” things. They eventually dispose of the robbery subplot with a trip to Brighton, a carriage accident, conveniently appearing and disappearing amnesia, Clay’s sister, and the removal of the bad guy’s hand. And just as conveniently, once the real robber, minus his hand, gives enough information that the Plot Moppets father is released and vows to be less absentee and maybe feed the moppets once in a while. (The way the plots worked was an almost closed loop- the same characters keep showing up in different places until you’re like “AHHHH there are only 12 people in all of England! The rest are just autons that don’t do anything but occasionally make commentary!”)
Jenna finally, finally, finally sucks it up enough to go turn herself in, and sits and waits, while Clay, stamping his foot and saying “BUT I AM A VISCOUNT” and finds a witness that sort of exonerates Jenna (sort of) and, of course, marries the girl. Who just inherited a bunch of money from her late father. So everyone is happy! And he buys her some really nice Texas boots of her own!
This book really does take all the elements you expect from a Zebra, and mushes them up. He’s Texan and a viscount! She has red locks, is gutter trash, but can talk in any accent she wants and ALSO likes baths! A mystery! A murder charge! Fabulous gowns just vague enough in description to pass the tests of costume historians! Plot moppets! I would have liked better interweaving of the plots, so Plot B doesn’t really feel like it came out of left field, and the ending was…. not all that satisfying, since Clay did all the heavy lifting and Jenna sat patiently in Newgate Prison. (And hell, even the ending of Plot B was “Clay gets the bad guy into a room, gets him to confess and then chops off his hand.” All Jenna did was identify the guy’s voice and nearly get shot.)
AND THE END: This had all the hallmarks of a “deadline looming!” ending. Everything suddenly gets wrapped up, the Plot Moppets are sent on their way, the kindly tavern owner is given a bunch of money for being kindly, and Jenna gets to be both a ranch wife and a viscountess. All in about four pages.
So there it is. It wasn’t the best romance I’ve ever read, and it most certainly was not the worst. And there was enough wtf-tasticness to keep me entertained. Maybe not really worth the 18-year wait, but I am so glad it was found for me.
Everyone got that?
Hells yes, I’m with ya sister.
And congrats on quite possibly one of the best reviews I’ve read all year.
Th…
… that was…
That was the FUNNIEST thing. I was genuinely disappointed when I reached the end of that review. I wish I had a Texan BFF. 🙁 My BFF is from Chicago. There’s less ranches and open-throated shirts and more, “That’s what SHE said, derp derp.”
Seriously made my afternoon.
I must read this book. IMMEDIATELY.
*dreamily*
I looooooooove a man in an open throated shirt.
Could you please think of another HABO book, let us find it for you, and then review it for us? Because this was really, really fun! Thanks for the review!
So much old school tomfoolery, and all in one handy blog post! I haven’t had this much fun in ages – and I’m really not sure what that says about the state of my “life” right now…..
Probably nothing good.
I feel like standing up and applauding after that review. That was fantabulous!
Bravo!!
Encore!
I second that!!
I insist there be more reviews of old school Zebras and Harlequins. They are hilarrible and this review is full of real funny.
“Plot moppets” – oh, how I wish I’d thought of that phrase. Perfect.
And thank you for a wonderfully wtf-ey review.
::bows::
I had so much fun reading this and so much fun writing this. And it’s kinda cool that people think I’m funny.
Really, it was the “YOU LIED ABOUT NOT BEING A VIRGIN YOU ARE SO A DIRTY LYING WHORE” bit that made me want, nay, NEED to review this.
I feel the need to create a database of plot moppets. Or Texas viscounts. My job is sooo boring, and this review is so the opposite; please come up with another HABO soon.
children85: now my database has a name.
Please, feel free to review any book you want. Even if you never read it before and don’t need us to find it.
Best review I’ve read in a long time!!
You guys… ‘hilarrible’ is my new favorite word.
Co-worker: What are you laughing at?
Me: (pointing at screen) Plot Moppets!!
Hysterical! Those Zebras romances were priceless, but this review takes the mountain oyster! More fulfilled HABO for you!
This made me laugh like a choking hyena and caused my co-worker to run into my office to see if I was okay. Busted!
I can honestly say I will never read this book…. but I will come back and read this review over and over again. AWESOME! I loved it!!
I suddenly feel that I’m spending too much time on “making things make sense.” I need more fiery redheaded street urchins!
The real terror of the Autons!
Nice. I like that you used all the words in my vocabulary. Dick, douchebag and crappy ass. Now, I have a new word from you too. Plot moppets. Nice.
Girl,
Are you published? If you’re not, please get started with a short story, novella, something! You have a great voice.
Man, I want to write some. It’s sad how I remember the plots of really bad 80’s Harlequins I read at my grandma’s house. Usually have an idea on the titles, if not the authors, but who knows if I could find them on Amazon any more when the titles were so generic!
I am laughing my ass off all alone at home, my dogs looking at me askance. Awesome review. I will be eternally grateful to you for bringing Plot Moppets into my life.
Brava!
don’t make us wait 18 years for another review. Quick, to the keyboard! I’m off to go help my plot moppet with her homework (*snerk!*)
cannot92 – I connot stop saying “plot moppet” 92 times while ROFL!
@Rhonda, no I’m just a law student with a blawg. I keep meaning to write things, but then this school thing gets in the way.
And doing more depends on several factors, like finding a book that speaks to me (probable), having time to do so (could happen), and of course, the humor of the High Priestesses of the Bitchery (::shrugs::).
That said, I fully intend to hit up Rodney’s Books and loot their romance section for more Zebras. I always liked the Zebras more than Harliquin.
(Captcha: Student 45. Yes, I’m going to be a student for THE NEXT FORTY FIVE YEARS OH GOD)
Redheadedgirl: Your ladylike protestations are noted. Now give us what we want.
I. AM. SLAIN.
“Clay ends up in the crappy ass tavern because he’s slumming it with some of his English buddies (like you do).”
That was my favorite line. Kind of like a mystery 2000 theater for romance books.
Brava.
My local used book store won’t take Zebra books. NOW I know why. Thanks so much for the review. I just kept reading and reading and reading … wonderful!!!
Now I want to start a band just so I can call it “Plot Device Moppets.”
Has anybody else ever watched the Adult Swim cartoon “The Venture Brothers”? One of the characters has henchmen called her “Moppets.” They’re these murderous, unshaven, bearded, creepy dwarves who find it fun to murder people. So the whole Moppet thing is really creeping me out.
What a brilliant way to be introduced to SB, TB. I can see it’s going to be like mainlining heroin! Plot Moppett, hillarible, the idea of databasing plot moppetts… inspiring!
Between “plot moppets”, “I prefer my women not vile” and the “soul searching about being a dick”, I was giggling the whole way through. I dont’ want to read the book but I’d be happy to read another review!
I miss these types of reviews. This is OLD skewl SBTB, when Sarah and Candy were ripping a new one for every improbably trashy book they could find. Oh man, and weekly cover snarking? Le sigh. I think its time for me to snoop through the archives and re-read some of those! I add my vote for more fun guest reviews, too! Great job, redheadedgirl.
Amanda: Mrs. Dr. Girlfriend Monarch is my idol.
I miss the old melodramatic historicals. Today’s historicals are much more accurate, but they don’t make you work as hard, you know?
*water out nose*
Oh gawds.
My plot moppet woke up because I was laughing so loud and coughing at the same time. Brilliant!
*snerks@hillirable*
*cheers!* WELL DONE!
Also: bwahahaha “plot moppets” snorf. ^_^
Abs-freakin-lutely agree!
Let’s see, my daddy was from Texas, I wear open throat shirts, and one of my titles is, “Le Count de Inventory.” So why aren’t I surrounded by wimmin?
Oh. My. God. I’VE READ THAT BOOK.
*cries for the poor reading taste of her childhood*
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? These are my FAVORITE KIND.
I mean, sure, I adore The Spymasters Lady and the other Joanna Bourne books like WHOA, but I love me some improbable, trashtastic, hillarable old school, wouldn’t know a research book if it got hit broadside by one, where swashes are buckled and buckles are…. well, usually unbuckled, or what’s the point? historical romance. And for that kind, the Golden Age was the early to mid 90s.
BEST CARE ANY WHERE.