Review: Tempted by His Target, by Jill Sorenson

Sep 23 2011 Published by under Reviews

Tempted by His Target* is a new Harlequin Romantic Suspense by Jill Sorenson, her seventh if I counted correctly. I do not usually read romantic suspense, but after a few heavy emotional reads, with a lot of internal conflict, I wanted something actiony, with a dreamy, sunny locale, and this fit the bill.

Isabel Sanborn was a rich and out of control party girl who fled L.A. after she woke up one morning next to the dead body of a Mexican drug lord’s son. Assuming she would be blamed for his death, she fled to Oaxaca, and she’s been on the run for two years when undercover U.S. Marshal Brandon Knox tracks her down. He poses as a clueless tourist, but soon he has to save her from Carranza’s thugs in a back alley, and they flee for their lives.

Their journey takes them by car, motorcycle, and on foot through Mexico, to Guatemala, and then back to the U.S. Instantly attracted to one another, they are both keeping secrets: Isabel what really happened that night before she fled the U.S., and Brandon his real occupation and reason for being with her. Theirs is is the kind of love that would have happened fast and easy had they met at a cocktail party in the states. It’s the circumstances that keep them from developing their attraction.

Spending nights in hotel rooms and days traveling together ratchets up the sexual tension. It occurred to me as I was reading Tempted by His Target that one of the problems with romantic suspense — the need to build a sexual relationship while in mortal crisis — can actually be a strength. Brandon and Isabel are constantly interrupted, either by their own self-control (Brandon is ethically bound not to have a fling with his target, and for Isabel, now is not exactly the best time to get involved) or by the events related to their flight, so the sexual tension just builds and builds.

It must be said, Sorenson knows how to bring the steamy. The love scenes were extremely intense. I was happy with how the author handled one encounter in which certain chances are taken. Failure to use protection is extremely common, because human beings tend not to think about what seem like distant risks when immediate gratification is at hand. But how it happens in this book, and the way the characters handle it, is very believable and very well done.

The opening scene of Tempted by his Target takes place on a beach (both Isabel and Brandon are surfers) and I wasn’t thrilled, because I don’t find descriptions of water very exciting. But when they head into town and on their journey — which includes a sweet interlude on a vacant farm and a violent episode among some abandoned ruins — the setting really works with the story to heighten both the romance and the suspense. My favorite suspense scene involves Isabel’s attempt to flee by blending in the crowds during Day of the Dead celebrations. Isabel is half Venezuelan and fluent in Spanish. Although not Mexican (and it’s clear that the locals would know this) the difference between Isabel’s easy way of relating to her surroundings and Brandon’s more complex one is significant to their characters.

Some other reviewers have complained that Brandon holds on to his secret for much longer than he should have, and doesn’t give good grovel, and I can see that, although it did not bother me. I really liked his character: a good man with a weakness for Isabel which is at times self-serving. The one sour note for me was the discovery that he had in his backpack a magazine with a sexy picture of Isabel (she did some modeling prior to becoming a fugitive) dressed a la Britney Spears in the “Baby One More Time” video. It wasn’t so much that she was dressed as a school girl (Although that doesn’t help. Brandon himself notes it’s kind of sleazy for him to be turned on by it.), but that it gave me the impression as a reader that he took an inappropriately lascivious interest in her prior to the assignment, which is more problematic than sort of accidentally falling in love at first sight. Still, I really liked Brandon, not least for his sensitive side. He’s very in touch with his emotions, not just during the love scenes, but even after fights: he seems to really be affected when he has to take on an attacker.

Isabel is a very likable character, too, despite the fact that she makes some questionable decisions. Heading into Mexico to escape a Mexican drug lord is probably the most bizarre, but the author finesses that in terms of her general instability and substance dependency, admixed with post traumatic panic. But there are a few choices in the book that had me scratching my head a bit (like why she wasn’t more suspicious of Brandon’s desire to stick with her, for one. Why would a happy go lucky American tourist want to hang with a girl who is followed by bullets everywhere she goes?). The Isabel in Tempted by His Target is so different from the wild child she was in L.A. that I almost wished for a prologue just to force me to believe she could really have been that girl once. But overall, as a character, she’s smart and funny and strong and vulnerable, and her complicated back story has as much power as possible given that it most of it occurs off the page.

I’m not normally a romantic suspense reader, but I really liked this book. I absolutely believed in the love between Isabel and Brandon, and for a romance reader, that’s what it’s all about.

*I received Tempted by His Target free from the publisher in exchange for writing a review. I came to know of its availability on Net Galley because I follow the author on Twitter, and she has written a guest post here at Read React Review. In the interest of complete disclosure, I should add that I would also kill for her hair.

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Sexuality and Same-Sex Romance: Placeholders, Power Dynamics, and the P-word

Aug 11 2010 Published by under Genre musings

A guest post by romantic suspense author Jill Sorenson

Assuming that most romance readers aren’t familiar with all of the terms above, I’ll start with a few definitions.

  1. Same-sex romance.  In addition to the ever-popular m/m (male/male), there is also a little-known subgenre called f/f (female/female).  Same-sex romance doesn’t necessarily mean gay romance.  It refers to a sexual relationship or sexual contact/experimentation between two characters of the same sex.  These characters may or may not identify as gay or bisexual.  F/f and m/m romances are often written by straight authors.
  2. Gay or LGBT (lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender) romance, on the other hand, is usually written by gay or LGBT authors.  The characters identify or “come out” as LGBT.  Some authors of gay romance dislike having their books labeled m/m or f/f.
  3. Straight romance, aka heterosexual romance or m/f (male/female).
  4. Placeholders.  I believe this term was coined by Laura Kinsale.  It’s a theory about the reader’s identification with a character.  Many m/f readers “take the place of the heroine” and fall in love with the hero, for example.
  5. Sexual politics.  Macmillan defines this as “differences in the amount of power men and women have in a society or group.” Some readers are turned off by the sexual politics in m/f romance.  Or are they just turned off by the “weaker sex”?  M/m gets a lot more credit than f/f for having an equal power dynamic.
  6. The P-word.  It’s pussy, people.  This one makes so many female readers uncomfortable, I’m almost afraid to use it!

My inspiration for this blog post was a feeling of frustration towards m/m “purists” who express negative attitudes about straight romance and women.  Not all m/m readers hold these views, but there are those who think m/f romance is lame and sexist.  Others don’t want girl cooties in their smokin-hot manlove.  They certainly aren’t interested in reading about two women.

Because I write straight romance, I read f/f romance, and I’m a woman, I take offense.  In some ways, m/m seems like a rejection of female sexuality, an erasure of women.

But my self-righteous indignation is just an initial reaction.  Romance readers can be sensitive.  I get emotional.  You know how it is.  This post isn’t actually about male vs. female or “us vs. them.”  My agenda isn’t to shame m/m fans or rally around f/f.  It’s an attempt to understand why we read what we read and like what we like.

Let’s begin with placeholders.  Earlier this year, I read an interesting comment at Smart Bitches from a reader who only buys books with blond heroines, because she’s blond, and she likes to imagine herself in the heroine’s place.  This is an extreme example of place-holding, no?  Maybe it’s even “replacing.” I’ve also seen some Bitchy ads in the sidebar that feature middle-aged women fantasizing about getting it on with romance novel heroes.

Although I think the placeholder theory has merit, I don’t take my reading engagement that far.  I’ve never pictured my real-life self in the book, shoving the fictional heroine aside.  I don’t want to paste my face over hers, if that makes sense.  But I am inside her head, inhabiting her space and feeling her emotions, not just passively watching the action.  I am becoming her, rather than replacing her.  I can also slip into the role of hero, and especially enjoy sex scenes from the male perspective.

Not everyone experiences romance novels the same way I do, of course.  Obviously, there are various levels of engagement.  It may depend on the book, the reader, the situation, the sexual pairing—any number of variables.  The variable I’m most interested in is the reader’s relationship with her sexuality.

M/m creates a sexual space that’s difficult for me to get into.  I feel more like a voyeur than a participant, one step removed.  Part of this may be my unfamiliarity with the subgenre, or my general disinterest in two guys having sex.  I can also understand why some gay people feel objectified by this “eroticization of the Other.” Not that my reading of f/f sex is any less offensive, ideologically, but it feels more innocent because of my ability to lose myself in the story and connect with the characters.

For other women, the sexual space in m/m feels totally natural.  In a fantastic thread stemming from Robin/Janet’s thought-provoking piece on ethical responsibilities beyond the book, author Heidi Cullinan said:

    “Sexual identity is so hard to define. I can’t tell you why I am so at home in m/m, but I am. I’ve had it explained that this is some sort of psychology, or something, about how it’s my way of accessing my inner male, or how I wish I were male—honestly? I don’t know. I just know that I love it. Somehow it does feel like it’s about my sexual identity, but I can’t explain it. I am intellectually (and yes, often physically) attracted to gay men.”

It follows logic that some women find it easier to identify with gay men, sexually.  They aren’t just attracted to men, but attracted to the fantasy aspect of being a man, having a man’s strength and sexual power.  This is an odd concept for me because I’ve never felt that way. I love being a woman. I like sex scenes from the hero’s POV in m/f romance because I relish his enjoyment of the heroine, not because I’d fancy having a penis instead of a vagina.

But I can’t assume that all women, gay or straight, embrace femininity the way I do.  I’ve heard that some lesbians love m/m.  Say what?  Here’s a comment from another interesting thread about the differences between straight and LGBT romance at Babbling About Books:

    “It’s worth noting that a lot of GLBT sex is similar to straight sex in limited ways. It’s not as simple as one person penetrating another. If what every straight couple wants most in the bedroom is different, queer couples differ even more dramatically from each other. Just from an f/f standpoint, stone butches, often those who present as most masculine and would seem simplest to slot into the m part of the m/f trope, are so uncomfortable with their female body and experiencing female pleasure that they would rather their lover fellate a strap-on than give them direct stimulation.”  –Thursday

When I saw the above comment, I thought of a puzzling scene I’d just read in a lesbian romance.  One of the heroines wore masculine clothing and lived as a man.  She used a strap-on during sex and reacted with arousal when her lover caressed it.  I didn’t understand what could possibly be pleasurable about donning a fake penis or having it touched.  But now I get it.

Sexuality is more complicated than liking men vs. liking women.  It’s also about which sexual parts we identify with, and they may or may not match our biological parts.

I have another theory, on the opposite end of the placeholder spectrum: some readers actively seek out characters that are not like them.  They are different from the blond reader who only reads blond heroines.  Rather than inserting themselves into the novel, they want to visualize or “become” someone else.

I can understand the fantasy aspect of this tendency.  Although I have to identify with a character in order to inhabit his or her space, it feels more comfortable for me to become someone else.  I rarely make an appearance in my own fantasies, in fact.  It’s one of the reasons I started writing romance.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve created characters in my mind and imagined them making love.  To each other, not to me.

Is part of the popularity of m/m the anti-placeholder?  If it’s impossible for the reader to imagine herself in the scene, taking the man’s place, does the fantasy become sharper and more pleasurable?  A pure escape, not grounded in reality or spoiled by any of the reader’s real-life experiences, separate from the reader’s sense of self?

As an aside, I don’t mean “escape” or “fantasy” in a negative way at all.  I see these as healthy, important facets of the romance genre.  Feel free to disagree!

On to sexual politics.  Many m/m readers enjoy the lack of traditional gender roles in a romance “between equals.”

At RRR Jessica’s, I read the following comment, which I believe was made by m/m aficionada Dr. Sarah Franz.  “F/f romance doesn’t work to dispel power dynamics the way m/m does because readers are women.”

My initial reaction to this statement wasn’t positive.  It sounded like another diss on f/f, very similar to the constant criticism of all romance as “for/about women (therefore lacking value).”  Then I read it again, and realized I’d misunderstood. Now I think it means that women have been historically oppressed by men.  When we write and read about two hot guys doing it for the female gaze, it’s like taking a piece of that power back.

I still don’t know if I get this power dynamic thing, or agree with the concept that m/m “does it better.”  I do know that m/m celebrates men, and I like men.  I like open-minded readers and rainbow coalitions.  But when penis = power, are m/m writers really subverting stereotypes by championing male sexuality?

Maybe m/m isn’t pro-feminist, or even gay-affirmative in some cases, but I’ve read many comments from readers who say the subgenre has changed their views about sexuality.  They are more accepting of differences and knowledgeable about the gay experience.  This is a good thing, and I think it happens when character portrayals are authentic.  I know I’ve gained a wider perspective from reading f/f.

Which brings me to my last point.  Again, I can thank m/m readers for bringing the issue to my attention.  Why do we have such a serious aversion to the word “pussy”?

M/f authors also discuss this troublesome dilemma, on Twitter and everywhere else.  Flowery euphemisms are out, clinical terms a turn-off.  There is no “perfect word” for female genitalia. We bemoan the fact that guys get all the sexy slang terms, like cock.

The words for lady parts are so unappealing they make some readers sick.  Several m/m authors claim it’s the reason they write about men.

Oddly enough, I’ve never heard anyone complain that there’s no sexy word for anus.  Authors can’t wrap their minds around “moist channel,” but they’re hot for “rear entrance”?  What is that about?  Why are we so comfortable with cock, and uncomfortable with cunt?

Well, I’ll tell you, fine reader!  I think it’s the actual parts, rather than the representative terms, we react negatively to. I, for one, like pussy.  I’ve used it in sex scenes.  It doesn’t freak me out.  I’m not offended by cunt, unless you’re calling me one.  I can appreciate female parts just as much as male parts.  I like sexy words.

I’m not trying to tell authors what to like, or which words to use.  But I do think we devalue female sexuality when we shy away from descriptions of female genitalia.  If moist channel doesn’t get your juices flowing (ha), choose something else.  Make up new words.  Be creative.  Find your own way.

Or…write about hot man-on-man love. Just don’t do it because you hate girl cooties.

Thanks so much for reading!  Comments welcome.

Questions:

Do you have the placeholder experience while reading, or are you more of a voyeur?  Does the sexual pairing (m/m, m/f, etc.) make a difference in your engagement with the text or your enjoyment of love scenes?

How are power dynamics different in same-sex romance?  What appeals to you about m/m or f/f romance?  What turns you off?

Which slang terms do you like or dislike?

Related articles:

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My Beach Vacation with 7 Contemps and 1 Historical

Mar 10 2009 Published by under Reviews

Read on for mini-reviews and lots of Kindle-on-the-beach pictures of these:

  1. Talk Me Down, Victoria Dahl (2009, HQN 352 pages)
  2. Crash Into Me, Jill Sorenson (2009, Bantam Dell, 464 pages)
  3. Flat-Out Sexy, Erin McCarthy (2008, Berkley Sensation, 304 pages)
  4. Anything for You, Sarah Mayberry (2006, Harlequin Blaze, 256 pages)
  5. To Do List, Lauren Dane (2007, Samhain, novella)
  6. Just the Sexiest Man Alive, Julie James (2008, Berkley Sensation, 304 pages)
  7. Practice Makes Perfect, Julie James (2009, Berkley, 320 pages)
  8. Like No Other Lover, Julie Anne Long (2008, Avon Romantic Treasure, 384 pages)

Maybe it was the pina coladas (or sangria, or mojitos, or rum and cokes). Maybe it was the sun, the sand, the surf. Maybe it was my Kindle enthrallment. Or maybe they were just damn good books. But I enjoyed reading all of the above. I hope to write longer reviews of some of them at a later date, but until then…

talk-me-down

1. Talk Me Down: Heroine who secretly writes erotica has returned to small town. She and hero have hots for each other since high school. Hero is gossip-averse, alpha but not domineering, borderline stick in the mud small town cop. First a bone to pick with Dear Author and Smart Bitches: I thought the “Save the Contemporary” campaign was all about — er — the contemporary. Exclusive of both paranormal and suspense. But this was definitely romantic suspense, with the heroine in serious peril most of the book. I enjoyed it, but heroine was slightly immature (at what point in your adult life do you tell your family to accept you or shove it?) and static throughout book. I do love a nonpsychotically jealous hero, especially with bar scenes, and this had them aplenty.

2. Crash Into Me: Latina FBI agent heroine, hero is widower and single dad, former pro surfer, former adulterer and alcoholic. I picked this one for the Cali surf setting, so well developed and so appropriate for my vacation. I think people who like rom suspense will really like it: the question of who was the murderer really had me from the beginning. The romance did not work as well for me, despite hot and unique sex scenes, because heroine is dishonest with hero and hero’s behavior is questionable at many points. Secondary romance with teens was sweet and well done. I think I have to accept that this sub-genre is not for me. There were many truly horrible people in this book — misogynists, lying teen sluts, rapists, murderers, child abusers. It just doesn’t work with romance for me.  That’s my hangup, I realize.

flat-out-sexy

3. Flat-Out Sexy: A very nice romance with younger hero who is sincere and honorable. Sexy and sweet. Heroine is supposedly an academic but may as well have been window washer for all it mattered to her character. I did not like the stereotyping of her former fellow academic boyfriend, just maybe because I am a professor married to another professor. I don’t think everyone who drives NASCAR is buff and masculine and everyone who teaches anthropology is wimpy and effeminate. That said, I am allergic to NASCAR and yet found myself quite interested in the culture while reading this book.

anything-for-you-sarah-mayberry

4. Anything for You: What a great little book. H/H are best friends and business partners and heroine realizes all her emotional energy is going to him. In order to move on with her romantic life, she severs their ties, setting in motion a very funny and sexy series of events as hero is forced to reevaluate their relationship. Very focused and tight, with wonderful results. I am planning to glom Mayberry ASAP. Loved the Australia setting, the unique terminology peppered throughout.

lauren-dane-to-do-list

5. To Do List: My second Dane book, after Giving Chase. This one was also a friends into lovers book, but less successful than the Mayberry. Opening scene, h/h are kissing for first time, and within 3 days are engaged. I know it’s a novella, but it was just too fast, despite the fact that they knew each other all their lives. I felt like I was missing the first 5 chapters. Taught me a new saying, “Sweet baby Jesus on a skateboard.” Really no conflict to speak of, but on paper it’s that hero is organic farmer, heroine is uptight lawyer determined to make partner. He finds her OCD “sweet” and she finds his organic farming “sexy”.

sangria-and-mojito

6. Just The Sexiest Man Alive: I loved this book. Both Type A, she’s a hot shot lawyer, he’s basically Brad Pitt. He needs to learn how to act like a trial lawyer for a movie. Funny and engaging. And, one of my favorites things — a very sexy book with almost no actual sex!  I know I love a book when the insides of my wrists start tingling. The physiological explanation is that my wrists hurt because I am unable to put it down.  But I like to think of my wrist tingles as my own mystical sign of booky greatness. This is not a perfect book — do we really believe this guy is a changed man? And sort of stalled in last third. But still, I enjoyed it so much I immediately downloaded …

7. Practice Makes Perfect: I loved this one, too. Again, with the Type A hot shot lawyers, both of them this time. Very Tracy and Hepburn. Colleagues have hated each other for 8 years, now both trying to make partner, sparks fly. The stress of their career ascension is so well portrayed — anyone who has tried to make partner, or get tenure, will appreciate it. Heroine is a hippie’s daughter, public school, feminist vegetarian. He’s the silver spoon golfing Harvard educated prepster. Actually deals almost head on with class and gender issues, but veers away when things get interesting  — I want to write a longer review on this one to talk about that issue in particular. Again, NO SEX, but sexy as hell.  I so enjoyed it and am totally enamored of Ms. James.

julie-ann-long-like-no-other-lover

8. Like No Other Lover: What can I say? This is my 4th book by this author, and I have truly enjoyed all of them. In this one, a mild mannered but wealthy scientist type gets spurned by the beautiful popular girl. The tables are turned and they come to reevaluate each other. Has a Pride and Prejudice aspect (as did Practice Makes Perfect), a theme I adore. I loved both characters, and I love how forthright and mature Long’s h/h are. It’s also set at the hero’s home — did I hear house party? Squee!!! I have to admit however, that Long needs to be taken in by the Metaphor and Simile division of the RWA for some serious deprogramming. This woman has never met a person place or thing she could describe directly. Still, what a great read with a drinking game scene in the middle that had me laughing so hard people were staring at me over their mojitos.

I’ll do a separate post on my Kindle, but for now I leave you with this…

beautiful-caribbean-sea

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