This story caught my attention twice: First, by its description, which promised a blend of fantasy and regency romance (two of my favorites) and second, by the very first line:
“If the Duke of Robinsworth had known it would be so difficult to raise a daughter alone, he never would have killed his wife.”
Intriguing! So much so, that I paused and quoted the line to my husband, who also acknowledged the sheer hookiness of the first line. But as I read further, contemplating how to use that line in the workshop I sometimes teach on “Beginnings,” I couldn’t help but notice some issues with the story-telling. Then I noticed a few more. And then…well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
This book immediately suffered from withheld information. Even though the duke readily admitted, in point of view, and on multiple occasions, that he killed his wife, he didn’t tell us why. This made it very difficult to like him because by default, I don’t sympathize with murderers.
Then there was Sophia, the fairy on a mission from….well, whoever is in charge of the fairy. Her mission was to…well, it had something to do with the duke’s daughter. Which brings me to my second big problems: World building. I also teach a workshop on that, and after reading this novel, I definitely have a few ideas to tweak that one.
You see, when you’re introducing a magical world (which is anything that differs from the world we know and understand), you have to actually tell us (the readers) about it in a timely fashion. You can’t, for example, give us five rules of behavior which include “Never, ever fall in love with a human” without telling us who makes the rules and what happens if you don’t follow it. Mostly the last one. Because deep down inside, where we all naturally challenge authority, our hedonistic impulses need to understand why they can’t just have what they want.
There was more, though. Frankly, the magic was silly. The fairies reminded me of children’s stories, which created problem number three: TONE. You see, Mary Poppins wasn’t sexy (even if she did have a beau). I found it incredibly difficult, no, impossible, to get into a story about a fairy who turns into a tiny little creature with wings and slips into little girl’s bedchambers in the middle of the night to help them (still not clear on that)….and then switch to her in the duke’s bedchamber straddling his thighs. It was just weird and very uncomfortable.
Back to world building…These fae were not adult fae as I’m used to reading them in fantasy. Which only made it harder to understand the way the world worked or the rules. Adult fairies aren’t mindless little do-gooders. (And maybe that’s not what these were, but if not, I didn’t get that.) I expect my adult stories about the fae to involve a complex world of other-worldly creatures who interact with humans for their own reasons.
All of that was building to a painful crescendo…I was rather dreading the sex scene and trying to decide whether or not to skip it…when I found my ultimate put-down moment at the 3/4 point.
***SPOILER AHEAD***
It was a lie. I was still traipsing through this book on the power of a promise given to me in the first sentence and reinforced at least a dozen times. But it simply wasn’t true. The duke didn’t kill his wife.
I honestly can’t believe this book was published, and I don’t say that lightly. I’ve read books I didn’t care for, but hey, we’ve all got different tastes. I just didn’t realize anyone’s taste permitted repeated, direct and explicit lies by an impartial third person narrator. This wasn’t a case of being misled…I quoted that first sentence to you verbatim, and there were many more like it.
***SPOILER Behind***
I do not recommend this book.
Rating: 1/5
Title: A Lady and Her Magic
Author: Tammy Falkner
ISBN: 9781402268120
Publication Date: September 1, 2012