My first full-on real-life romance novel was Shanna by Kathleen Woodiwiss. Naturally, it’s on my keeper shelf right next to The Wolf and the Dove. I have the ones with the original covers, though they are far from mint. The namby pamby covers on the ones with the links are meh. Unlike most of my contemporaries whose first (or close to it) romance experience was Woodiwiss, mine wasn’t with The Flame and the Flower or Ashes in the Wind, neither of which I cared for.
But she’s not my guilty pleasure.
It’s Carole Mortimer of Harlequin Presents circa 1979 through, oh, I guess around 1986.
No, really. I was still impressionable, Kathleen Woodiwiss and Rosemary Rogers and Bertrice Small and Valerie Sherwood and Johanna Lindsey notwithstanding. They were historical and well, that didn’t apply. Plus, I had to work at reading those novels. They obliged me to look up all the $50 words they used that I didn’t understand and forced me to soak up all that historical detail. I did very well on my vocabulary tests and in history class because of them.
So forget the 5 queens of ’80s bodice rippers (and hey, Romancelandia, don’t froth at the mouth at that because that’s when they were, indeed, bodice rippers) and their propensities toward, well, bodice ripping, it’s from Carole I got my taste for the forced seduction, the almost-asshole alpha (’cause you know in the end they get redeemed by the ingenue and you read the whole book just to get to the redemption), and the May-December romance. I mean, really. Was there ever a Carole Mortimer novel that didn’t feature a 36-year-old hero and an 18-year-old heroine?
I have never been successfully or completely deconditioned or reprogrammed. Blame her. It’s not my fault.
Really.
I met Kathleen Woodiwiss at lake Buena Vista (Disney) in Orlando when I was a kid. I have a first edition signed copy of Shanna. I think I’ve read it fifty times. The opening scene in the carriage is amazing. And I remember loving Carole Mortimer Harlequins a lot. Didn’t she do a lot of nurse themes? I don’t remember them being that … over the top.
I do love Shanna. I was really young when I first read it so it was a struggle to understand what was going on. I think my favorite scene in the whole book was when Ruark is coming through the shop with some barrels and his muscles are popping like crazy and Shanna’s fit to be tied.
I don’t remember reading one Mortimer nurse story, but I went on a Mortimer binge of the 1979-1985 vintage last summer and as an adult, I have to say I was a little disturbed by how forced was the seduction. I didn’t remember it like that. Still, she has me and always will.
My Aunt had every Harlequin ever published in a room with four walls of shelves holding the entire collection. She also had a wrap around porch and rocking chairs. I think I read them all. Harlequin lost me when they broke into different genres. I couldn’t subscribe to them all and my Aunt couldn’t keep up either. It’s addictive, though.
I was going to say that Harlequin lost me to college in 86 and I didn’t have time for it anymore, but after tonight’s wrangling with eHarlequin’s ebook shop, they’ve lost me all over again.
I’m rather peeved, I tell you, all that business just to download a couple of books. Grrrr.
Shanna is the foremost example to me of the useless heroine.
Not the worst, mind you; the worst were utterly forgettable, whereas Shanna is better-written. It’s strangely titled, though, since the well-written character is Ruark.
I loved Ruark.
Again, I think she’s a good example of the placeholder. There’s another big debate about the romance being hero-centric anyway.
(In my defense, I was 12 or 13 or something when I read it the first time. That probably says something about Shanna…)
If you read it at that age, a heroine barely into adulthood that acts fourteen would make sense.