Title: The Playboy Sheikh's Virgin Stable Girl
Author: Sharon Kendrick
Publication Info: Harlequin August 2009
Genre: Contemporary Romance
I read this book because not one but two different people emailed me and said, to wit, “OMG you have to read this it is HILARIOUS. Like Pregnesia Hilarious.”
One reader said,
“I just had to draw your attention to a stunning read. It’s so bad, it transcends the line between bad and good and becomes rather excellent….
I can highly recommend Kendrick’s latest. Honestly, she’s usually one of the authors that I like – I kind of enjoy the hyper-realism of her stories, and I know what I’m getting. But, for me, this tipped over from presents into parody. It’s truly an experience.”
Then, she quoted The Line, the one line in this book that makes it a Must Read. The money quote that is so ridiculous, you can’t even believe it, and you have to read it over again to make sure you didn’t hallucinate. And THEN, it gets better from there!
How could I not read it?
Eleni Lakis is a young woman living as a virtual servant in her father’s home. Her father is known for his prized horses. Eleni is the secret to his success, as she’s the veiled horse whisperer – or horse whiner, maybe. When the Prince of Calista arrives one evening to play cards and gamble with Eleni’s father, she knows it won’t end well. Her father’s life of wealth is a masquerade; the only thing he has of worth is his horses – and his daughter, not that he treats her as such. And Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi is like the John Shaft of the desert. Witness his arrival:
Robes of pure silk clung to the hard sinews of his body and as he approached Eleni could see a face so forbidding that some deep-rooted fear made her wonder if he had the power to turn to dust all those who stood before him.
And a face so inherently beautiful that it was as if all the desert flowers had bloomed at once.
It was then that Eleni understood the full and daunting truth. Her father’s bragging had been true for riding towards their humble abode was indeed Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi. Kaliq the daredevil, the lover of women, the playboy, the gambler and irresponsible twin son of Prince Ashraf. The man, it was said, could make women moan with pleasure simply by looking at them.
You’d think that would be enough, what with the breathless descriptions of unparalleled masculine beauty and sexual prowess. But no. It’s time for The Line, the one sentence that is so majestic, it’s almost impossible to believe that it’s real.
It’s found within the first 20 pages, but if you take this book in your hands to enjoy it, you shouldn’t stop there. It’s hilariously ridiculous and too much fun to stop. But the rule is, much like this review, you cannot take the book too seriously. If you do, you’ll hurt yourself or an inanimate object. Really.
Here it is, the reason I had to read this book:
Kaliq dismounted with the same speed and grace as he would remove himself from the body of a woman he had just made love to.
OH, my GOSH, it’s a revelation! It’s just… delicious crazy!
But wait, there’s more! This entire book is so freaking crazy, it speaks for itself.
Kaliq sees Eleni for the first time:
Kaliq glanced over at her, his antennae automatically alerted by the sound of a woman’s voice. It was soft and soothing, he thought—like cool, running water running through this oppressive and stuffy room. And it was curiously fluent for a servant. His eyes narrowed, but he could not see whether she was plain or beautiful.
Antennae? Like, he’s a hemi-pene? Wouldn’t it be just the one antenna?
Also, I love when cool running water is running. Run, water, run! Run like the wind! Run like the bosoms in Kaliq’s frustrated imagination!
Her head was covered with a veil and the clothes she wore were drab and concealing—and while they were entirely appropriate for a woman of her class and status, he would have preferred to feast his eyes on something attractive. Some buxom young thing with her breasts half spilling out, who would pleasure him with the yearning in her eyes!
It’s just like what they always say: if wishes were bosoms, sheikhs would ride.
But it’s not just wishes for bosoms and peen-antennae between them. He and Eleni have something… in common!
‘My father was displeased with his dinner,’ Eleni began, vaguely recalling the noise and the drunken shouts and the mess of lentils splattered all over the floor. ‘He sent my mother to market to buy a chicken and on the way back she stumbled, and fell.’ Eleni swallowed. ‘They think that she was bitten by a snake—but by the time they found her, she was dead and the vultures had long taken away the chicken.’
By the muscular shafts of his thighs, Kaliq’s hands clenched into two tight fists. He had been accused by women of having not a shred of compassion in his hard body but for once he found himself touched by this urchin’s plight. ‘And how old were you?’ he demanded.
Ten? Almost the same age as he had been when his mother died in childbirth. Kaliq turned away from her troubled and trembling face, unwilling to acknowledge another fierce spear of recognition which burned through him—because some things were better buried away, deep in the dark recesses of memory. Royal and commoner—united by a strange bond. Each and every one of them had their burdens, he recognised bitterly—it was just that some were darker than others.
Oh, the humanity.
Kaliq wins Eleni’s prized horse, and she surprises him by telling him she should be taken with the horse to make sure the horse is happy. And there begins the best nickname ever for a heroine:
Would he not perform better if she were taken along, too? Would not it be infinitely more preferable to spare his stable staff the trouble of having to break in a highly strung horse who might still sulk and refuse to race properly?
He turned back—seeing that this time she had not dropped her gaze, but was meeting his with a steady question in her eyes. The little lizard grew brave for the love of her horse!
It’s romance time, dare I say, BUSINESS Time, when little lizards are brought out, is all I’m sayin’. And he calls her that through most of the book, too. Rwor.
One moment she was modestly looking at the ground—and yet now she was telling her prince about washing out her most intimate garments! Kaliq felt a slow rage begin to simmer in his blood—and not simply because she had been insubordinate.
No, because that flush of pink to her cheeks had made her eyes look as green as pistachios and as bright as new leaves—and, unwittingly and inappropriately, he could feel the sudden hot stir of lust at his groin.
Uh, oh. That doesn’t sound good.
It was a familiar ache. An appetite which demanded to be fed. Desire could sometimes be all the more powerful when it was indiscriminate—and Kaliq was a highly sexed man.
Part of him wanted to throw her down onto the straw and have done with it. For there was no surer way of losing desire for a woman than to take your fill of her. But he sensed that Eleni might be slow to realise that her duty was to please her sheikh in every aspect that he demanded. His mouth curved into a smile. She would soon learn.
NOW WAIT JUST A GODDAM MINUTE HERE MR SHIEKHY PANTS.
Wait, I’m sorry, I take this too seriously. He’s a highly sexed man… and no one understands him like his woman. Except he doesn’t have one. Gosh, the poor prince must go off and jizz randomly at inopportune moments. You know, because desire is all the more powerful when it was indiscriminate, and when you just spontaneously jizz on the wall indiscriminately, then it’s extra more hot.
And he is a highly sexed man. To quote a wise sage, “It is a romance novel rule that any man named Kaliq MUST be highly sexed.”
The rough clothes favoured by her people had been replaced by a fine silk which accentuated the fine curves of her fit and youthful body. Why, his little lizard looked almost beautiful!
He shifted his position so that the ache at his groin grew slightly more bearable.
‘I believe that this is what they would call the “makeover”,’ he observed.
Yup, sure is. And when we get to the part where it’s what they call “the buttmonkey assface hero groveling for six to ten pages because he’s a complete tool,” let me know because I’m so looking forward to it.
Sadly the following is lacking from this book: “The plot.” “The character development.” “The conflict.” “The empathy for either party on the part of the reader.”
“The frustration,” “the wooden dialogue” and “the overwrought descriptions” are here in plentiful supply, though.
She was turning out to be much cleverer than he had ever anticipated—with a native cunning which could spell trouble if he was not careful. She was here simply to help him decide on a horse and to warm his bed at night—and neither of them should forget that. So whose fault was it that they now seemed to be steering towards an inappropriate debate on the openings available for women in Calista? His!
‘Make yourself ready—for we are about to land. It can be a startling experience—but there is nothing for you to fear,’ he said coolly, and began to flick through an English newspaper, knowing that his words weren’t quite true. But what purpose would there be in telling her that take-off and landing were the two most dangerous moments during a flight?
He’s all heart, that Kaliq. Well, except for the antennae and the highly sexed parts. No word yet on which parts those are.
Eleni has flown to England, where it’s very green and very odd, and the women don’t wear traditional garb. She’s taking care of the stallion (the actual horse, not Kaliq), who will race at one point or another, and she’s resisting Kaliq as much as possible, even though they’ve been (*GASP*) put into adjoining rooms.
Because THAT’S not obvious or anything. So of course – SPOILER ALERT – they end up in bed.
What, like that’s a shock? It was to me, actually. It was almost a presumptuous plot device: “This is a romance. We’ve had The Makeover. Now it is time for The Sex Relations.”
He almost lit the lamp to watch her very first orgasm but he did not want to destroy the mood. As it was, the half-light caught her joy and illuminated the tear which trickled slowly down over her cheek and he lowered his head to lick it away.
‘Do not cry,’ he said softly and then, inexplicably, he felt a sudden lurching of his heart. ‘Are you sad that I took your purity away?’
‘No, but I’m sad that you didn’t buy me a pony.’
Wait, sorry. That was me.
Somehow, her first orgasm is her purity, leaving him to dispense of her actual virginity with minimal prep work.
Parting her firm thighs, he thrust into her with one long stroke as he heard her stifle the cry as her innocence was taken from her for ever. How hot and tight she felt. Kaliq moaned. He could have spilled his seed into her right there and then—and why not? For it was the right of the sheikh to take his pleasure where he found it.
You know, with random women, on the wall, on the floor, whatever. Desire is more powerful when it’s indiscriminate. And when desire prefers the wall hangings or livestock to humans and whatnot, it’s just off the hook.
Yet strangely he found himself wanting this eager, unexpected beauty to have the time of her life. To gasp her pleasure once more beneath the onslaught of his sexual prowess. So he held back. He tantalised her with the thrust of his body and then retreated, over and over again until the body of his no-longer-a-virgin began to adjust and to acclimatise to the new sensations which were sweeping over her. How quickly she learnt, he thought in admiration as he sensed her pleasure building once more.
What a man, that Kaliq. He is highly sexed after all.
‘It’s…it’s…Oh! That thing…that thing…it’s going to happen all over again!’
‘Your orgasm,’ he purred—but this time as she convulsed around his aching flesh he joined her, letting go completely, losing himself in a sea of delight, his body juddering as it was racked with spasms which seemed to go on and on, leaving him completely dry and gasping.
The use of the word “juddering” caused a lively discussion on Twitter while I was reading this on my commute home. I was informed that it’s common in UK, Aussie and Kiwi categories. Anne Douglas told me me that instead of rumble strips or speed humps, in New Zealand they have “judder bars.” I proposed a new Olympic sport: speed humps in the judder bar. Anne says she’ll help me judge on execution, originality, and showmanship.
Truly, she was no longer a girl – she had been made into a woman by her sheikh.
I have one thing to say. And that one thing is 0.o
Let’s move on, now that we’ve all been made into women by our sheikhs.
Her eyes fluttered open to find that the early morning sun was creeping in through the muslin drapes and that Kaliq was looking down at her. Anxiously, she searched his face for a sign of what last night had meant to him. Did he still respect her?
‘So what did you think of your sexual awakening, lizard?’
She felt the colour stealing into her cheeks. What was she expected to say? ‘It was very…agreeable.’
‘Agreeable?’ He laughed softly, thinking how ironic it was that his little stable girl should give him such a cool response—he, who had been praised to the heavens by society beauties the world over.
If you’ve been praised to the heavens by society beauties the world over, do you respect yourself in the morning?
Pausing in the act of knotting the belt of his robe, he flicked her an impenetrable look. ‘Just two things,’ he drawled. ‘When you prepare for bed tonight, don’t braid your hair like a governess—I wish to see it spread loose over my pillow.’
Her fingers playing with one of the ribbons, Eleni looked at him, unable to deny the small spring of hope in her heart. ‘And the other?’
His smile was cruel. ‘Make sure you don’t ever call me Kaliq in public.’
I have a few ideas of what she can call him in public! Pick your favorite:
– Complete tool
– Disgusting wanker
I could keep going but there’s more fun with Kaliq who shall be nameless in public and Eleni, lady of the horsey doormats.
Eleni, it seems, is not only giving Kaliq a dose of his own brusque medicine, but she likes the sex. Likes it a LOT. After all, she has a lot of catching up to do if she wants to compete with Kaliq, who is a highly sexed man.
…she found herself moaning her impatience—lifting her bottom to help him pull them down as if she had been born to be seduced in the cramped and confined space of a sports car.
And then the gear shift penetrat- sorry, what now?
The polo field was absolutely packed with spectators—including some of the most beautiful and outrageously dressed women she had ever seen.
And every single one of them seemed to be staring at Kaliq.
‘All the women are looking at you,’ she blurted out, before she could stop herself.
He gave the flicker of an arrogant smile. ‘But of course they are,’ he said, with a careless shrug. ‘I excite the attention of women wherever I go—they are naturally drawn to my power and virility.’
Do you think his own ego gets in the way of everyday things, like taking a crap or shaving? Can you reach around your own inflated sense of self when you are that awesome in your own mind? Or does the razor shave him and the paper wipe his backside because they are naturally drawn to his power and virility?
The book continues on that vein for another few dozen pages. The arrival at Deeper and Inconvenient Feelings occurs earlier for Eleni than it does for Kaliq, and Kaliq’s descent in the fiery, sticky pits of love is preceded by wooden dialogue and danger that of course erase all the remaining conflict that wasn’t really all that conflicted, except maybe it was wondering how it got there and why it was wearing two different shoes.
This book is high entertainment. It’s so ridiculous, you can’t put it down. It is its own drinking game.
If you’re looking for a middle-eastern set romance with subtext that undermine stereotypes of monarchy in Arabic countries, or debates that raise questions about gender roles in different countries, well, this is not that book. But if you want some descriptions of a hero who is so virile, so gorgeous, so highly sexed that women flock to him and men lose the ability to sustain an erection for miles upon miles, this is the book for you. Kaliq is everything you didn’t know you wanted in a Harlequin Presents hero.
Which, of course, begs the question: Kaliq vs. Chuck Norris. Who wins?
This book is available from Goodreads | Amazon | BN | Kobo | https://www.omnilit.com/product-theplayboysheikh039svirginstablegirl-80401-149.html?referrer=sbtb” target=”_blank”>AllRomance.
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Yes, this is why we lurve you with a lurve that’s strong as a sheikh in the night, SBs!
Whee, I have this one, too. Need to write my review soon…
So, was he quitly highly sexed?
Great review as always, this sounds like the American Pie 4 of romance novels.
Chuck Norris doesn’t take a woman’s virginity. His virginity takes you!
…I’ve got nothing, except that I’m going to buy this book ASAP. I probably would have anyway, because I usually a) like Kendrick and b) that title is irresistible, but this review just made it a sure thing.
I’m crying on my keyboard here, although I must confess as an ex-Brit I did get into trouble for juddering in my books but my editor beat it out of me, so now I just shudder and shake like the Americans do. I got in trouble for my hero tossing something as well once, but I digress…
I want to read this book so badly now.
Reading this book was like watching a really horribly tacky movie that you couldn’t truly enjoy because it was so bad, but that you wanted to finish just to see how much worse it could get and so that you could tell all your friends about it later. It’s terrible, but you just can’t put it down. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I do now that I’m now weary of reading anything else by Sharon Kendrick for fear of getting sucked into another grotesque yet amusing monstrosity like this one.
And now for the really important part… I think Kaliq might be able to defeat Chuck Norris, but there’s no way he could win against Mr. Rogers.
Well, Kaliq would win a match with Chuck because … well, Chuck couldn’t be bothered with Mr. Asshatpants.
And, really, I want an alphabet naming game for the nameless one. You already gave us the first. I’ll add another.
A is for Asshat
B is for Bastard
C is for Complete Tool
D is for Disgusting Wanker
E is for Egotistical Sh!!head
someone want to do F?
Obsess over your reflection much, Kaliq? What a monumental, asshat tool. My HERO!!! LOL, kidding.
In a fight between Kaliq and Chuck Norris, or Chucky-Baby, as my mother-in-law refers to him, there is not a single doubt in my mind that Chuck would stomp Kliq, the princely prick, in to the sand. No contest.
F is for Fucktard
G is for Goat … er … groper?
I’d never make it all the way down to M, but it’s definitely for Man-whore.
I am totally using the phrase “It’s its own drinking game!” from now on. Thanks, SB Sarah!
Also, Chuck Norris would kick ass. Because you’re not allowed to describe Chuck Norris as manly. Other men are Chuck Norris-y.
Doesn’t the verb judder occur at all in American English, then? How interesting!
However, I do not see it as particularly appropriate in a sex-scene. It isn’t a simple synonym for shudder or shake , as it is usually used of an inanimate object. The bed might judder during a lively congress, but not the human participants.
I tend not to like any word containing any version of “retard” (i.e. F*tard has always hit me wrong), so how about something like F*in A*hole for F? I know it’s not all that creative, but it is classic, AND it’s got a literal component to it, as well. 😉
Lizard??? He calls her LIZARD after taking her virginity.
Change that B to Bestiality
I wasn’t supposed to hear By the power of Greyskull there, was I? I didn’t think so.
In other news,
H is for (Highly-Sexed) Hedgehog Humper? At least as satisfying as walls, stables, and goats, anyway.
Oh. My. Word. Crying here and trying not to wet myself.
This phrase did it:
“…but by the time they found her, she was dead and the vultures had long taken away the chicken.”
Damn but they miss that chicken…
I would not read this book if you paid me many dollars, but this review was totally awesome. What with the chickens and the thigh shafts and the looks of orgasm and the lizards, I’m juddering with mirth. And a touch of incredulity.
as her innocence was taken from her for ever
Interesting use of the passive voice there, Kaliq.
1. Hate books that force me to learn new vocab: acclimatise. Seriously, didn’t know that one, had to look it up. And IMHO it isn’t a good fit either. :shrug:
2. If I were an author it would be my goal to write a book just like this to get this review from you. This marks the second time I have to go buy a book because of the deliciously awful snarkful review you have given it.
As I giggle at my computer, I must say…I am concerned about the horse. It sounds like the asshat and the lizard are so busy being humptastic that everyone has forgotten about the stallion. I am sending this book to PETA…I know that they will take care of this unfortunate discovery.
Oh, and Kalick needs to remember that a sharp tongue does not mean you have a keen mind.
I’m seized by a fierce unrelenting need for this book.
I read this last month, and if the Kindle DX wasn’t so darn expensive, I would have thrown it at the wall. Last month’s entire Presents category was simply awful, but this one happens to be the absolute worst thing I’ve ever read. Or close to it (some later Thea Devine comes to mind).
However, the cringe-inducing nature of this work has been significantly mitigated by your utterly hysterical review. Maybe I need to re-read it, to reassess its awfulness.
And to add to the Alphabet of Asshattery:
F is for F**kwad
G is for Greasy Haired Gasbag
H is for Husband from Hell with Herpes
I is for Incontinent and Impotent Idiot
J is for Justifiably Manslaughtered
Someone else can pick it with the ultra-difficult “K”
Spamword – Glass83 – 83 glass eyes later, Steve finally managed to pop Doris’ cherry
And that, my children, is when Harlequin officially jumped the virgin shark.
I bought this one for the library and am delighted I didn’t spend my own money for it. While reading this, I often imagined kicking Kaliq in the bidness, despite the apparent risk of breaking my toes on his Crotch o’ the Desert.
The only reason to wade through this dreck is to see him broken and grovelling, full of guilt at his numerous transgressions. But it never happens—-his only punishment is to actually experience an honest emotion and to care for another human being. Oh, the horror.
Killed for cause
Kissed off knuckelhead
Losing IQ points as we speak
Loose change for brains
Man without a brain
Miserly meat stick
And Gina, I *always* worry about the animals!
Interesting tidbit there about the word “juddering”.
My favorite “I swear they’re not actually speaking English” story is from a friend who was sent to work in the London office for a year. In a meeting he said, “OK, I’ll just toss this together…” Everyone burst out laughing hysterically. He looked around and said, “What did I say now?”, which just made them laugh harder. Finally they explained to him what “tossing” means in British English!
Ooooh god I really needed a laugh this morning too 😉
Uh… wow. Out of curiousity, I looked up Sharon Kendrick to see if she had any connection to Middle Eastern culture which, of course, she doesn’t. Haven’t read the book, but these excerpts sound like she read some books but doesn’t have any personal experience with the culture.
This would tick me off except that the book seems so disconnected from anything resembling reality that I don’t think it matters.
K is for Krazy-misogynistic?
I put on my pretty, cleavagey dress because there are going to be boys at the party I’m going to tonight, and now I’ve sprayed soup all over it.
I mean, it’s not like you didn’t warn me, but I didn’t listen, and I read the one line with food in my mouth and there’s no way I’m going to be able to get this washed and dried again before I have to go out and it’s all your fault!
Okay, Sarah, you must, must, MUST send this one to DocTurtle.
Ya’ll have made my day. Thanks.
This just may have surpassed Pregnesia.
Sheikhs are my guilty pleasure, and being a tad high-handed is par for the course, but yep, this guy goes way beyond high-handed into complete git.
Any man who think “lizard” is a cute way to refer to the missus should be, shall we say, disabused of this notion. With something pointy.
A is for Asshat
B is for Bastard
C is for Complete Tool
D is for Disgusting Wanker
E is for Egomaniac
F is for F*ckwad
G is for Git
H is for Horrific
I is for Idiot
J is for Jerk
K is for Knuckledragger
L is for Lout
M is for Misogynist
N is for Nad-less
O is for O RLY?
P is for Prick
R is for Rude
S is for Slimy
T is for Turdhead
U is for Ugh
V is for Vicious
W is for Waste-of-Space
Y is for Why Did You Write this?
My day has pretty much been crap until I checked on what the Smart Bitches were up to. Thank you for making me laugh until my sides hurt. 🙂
OMG, last month my sister sent me a picture of this book, sitting on the shelf of her local bookstore along with its compatriots. We were ROFL just at the title. I am THRILLED to find out that the book lives up (down?) to its cover!
I’ve been hopping all over the web sending people to read this review lol.
“if wishes were bosoms, sheikhs would ride” FUNNY!
I am buying the book. Awesomeness like this has to be encouraged.
This quote.. He gave the flicker of an arrogant smile. ‘But of course they are,’ he said, with a careless shrug. ‘I excite the attention of women wherever I go—they are naturally drawn to my power and virility.’
Two words.. JOHNNY BRAVO
“‘I excite the attention of women wherever I go—they are naturally drawn to my power and virility.’ “
OooooKayyy… That would be awesome – like a symphony of pinging knicker elastic and a tumbling dogpile of flailing females only prevented from crushing the “hero” to death by his magical shield of self importance.
Funniest review I’ve read in ages, but what happened to the horse? Won’t somebody think of the ponies?
Having just recently suffered through “The Duke’s Cinderella Bride” by Carole Mortimer, I’m naturally shy about reading another godawful category. But at least this one sounds cracktastic, whereas the Mortimer was just a boring gangbang of adverbs.
That made me LOL at work. My coworkers think I am so strange.
I actually wanted some of the grovelling included in the review, just to round out some of the highly sexxed and highly sexist block quotes.
Does she ever get to call him by his name in public?? Was the gear stick somehow involved in their reunion? Was is seed enough to grow plants the likes of which we’ve never seen??
These questions need answers.
Oh, and….MWA! HA! HA! A+ review.
I want to leave it where Ahmed can see it and wait to see how long he goes before thumbing through it… then wait longer to see how long it takes him to confront me.
Could be hysterical…
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