Posted in books, Lane is Reading, Reviews

Romance in Review: THE RELUCTANT BRIDE, by Beverly Eikli

Growing up, I spent many, many happy hours going through the novels on my grandmother’s bookshelf.  Her two literary passions were True Crime and Romance, and I read them all–covertly.  My mother preferred that I not read romance.

To this day, my favorite of the stories was a book called THE CHADWICK RING, by Julia Jeffries.   It was absolutely a guilty pleasure with an innocent, intelligent heroine struggling to find her place in a man’s world. When I signed up to read THE RELUCTANT BRIDE for Beverly Eikli’s book tour, I was just hoping to enjoy her latest romance novel.  I was not expecting to be swept up into the giggly, giddy delight I used to feel when I would sneak another historical romance out of Grandma’s bookshelf–but I did!

THE RELUCTANT BRIDE has everything a romance novel should.  You have your damsel in distress, your strapping-but-scarred hero, a rogue, a marriage of convenience, misunderstandings and drama, with the additional interest and intrigue of espionage and family secrets that threaten to ruin everything–seriously, if you like romance, this one will have you squirming happily.  Eikli has a wonderful command of the narrative, and she builds a fully fleshed reality for her characters.  I think she’s written a novel that will stand against the best of them, and it is as memorable as the one that has stuck with me since I was about 10 years old.

Scroll to read an excerpt below Beverly’s bio, a find out how to win a gift card giveaway from Beverly.

I’m giving this one 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Beverley Eikli and her Rhodesian Ridgeback, Homer.
Beverley Eikli and her Rhodesian Ridgeback, Homer.

About Beverly:

Beverley Eikli is the author of eight historical romances published by Pan Macmillan Momentum, Robert Hale, Ellora’s Cave and Total-e-Bound. Recently she won UK Women’s Fiction publisher Choc-Lit’s Search for an Australian Star competition with her suspenseful, spy-based Regency Romance The Reluctant Bride.

She’s been shortlisted twice for a Romance Readers of Australia Award in the Favourite Historical category — in 2011 for  A Little Deception, and in 2012 for her racy Regency Romp, Rake’s Honour, written under her Beverley Oakley pseudonym.

Beverley wrote her first romance when she was seventeen. However, drowning the heroine on the last page was, she discovered, not in the spirit of the genre so her romance-writing career ground to a halt and she became a journalist.

After throwing in her job on South Australia’s metropolitan daily The Advertiser to manage a luxury safari lodge in the Okavango Delta, in Botswana, Beverley discovered a new world of romance and adventure in a thatched cottage in the middle of a mopane forest with the handsome Norwegian bush pilot she met around a camp fire.

Eighteen years later, after exploring the world in the back of Cessna 404s and CASA 212s as an airborne geophysical survey operator during low-level sorties over the French Guyanese jungle and Greenland’s ice cap, Beverley is back in Australia teaching in the Department of Professional Writing & Editing at Victoria University, as well as teaching Short Courses for the Centre of Adult Education and Macedon Ranges Further Education.

She writes Regency Historical Intrigue as Beverley Eikli and erotic historicals as Beverley Oakley.

Beverley won the Choc Lit Search for an Australian Star competition with The Reluctant Bride.

Shortlisted for the 2012 Australian Romance Readers Award for her novel Rake’s Honour

Finalist in the 2011 Australian Romance Readers Awards for her novel A Little Deception.


Angus and Emily, newly married, have just been visited unexpectedly by Angus’s brother and his unsuitable consort. Emily, embarrassed by her highly pregnant state and knowing it will cause gossip amongst Angus’s family, reacts in this scene to her husband’s apologies for the situation Emily has just confronted.

With deliberate care Emily set down the plates once more and turned to look at her husband through narrowed eyes.

‘For contaminating me with a lady of dubious repute? But Angus, how much worse a contaminant would I have been had you not married me?’ She patted her swollen belly. ‘You’d be apologising to your brother. A fallen woman—’

‘Don’t speak like that.’ His wide-set eyes burned with undeserved defence of her. ‘Men’s impulses can be ungovernable, but ladies do not suffer such … urges … You were … taken advantage of.’

Emily stared at him. She sucked in a long, quavering breath as her simmering anger came finally to the boil. Is that what he believed? That she was insensible to passion? And that was a good thing?

‘What would you say if I told you that my impulses were every bit as ungovernable as Jack’s?’ She could barely control her anger sufficiently to speak. For days she had forced her feelings into the background, using the same emotional device against her unwanted husband as she had when her father insulted her, shutting out the hurt by erecting a barrier as impenetrable as steel.

Now, feeling surged through her, blackening her vision and causing her to sway. She put her hand on the back of the sofa to steady herself.

Angus stood awkwardly by the door, as if unsure whether to move closer to support her, or beat a tactful retreat.

Emily glared at him. ‘What if I told you that I was so consumed by passion in Jack’s arms I would not have heeded the Blessed Virgin Mary cautioning me against the temptations of the flesh?’ She tried to regulate her breathing, but the rage was clawing its way further up her body, threatening to make her its puppet. She, who never lost her temper. ‘I loved Jack. I was his slave in passion, every bit as culpable as he. If you are so concerned for virtue, spare your condemnation of innocent Miss Galway. You need only cast your eyes upon your wife to be singed by my sin. There! I have confessed my true nature. Whatever you thought of me before, you cannot but think worse of me now.’ She registered the horror in his eyes and was glad for it. Much better that she banish any pretence between them.

She’d never expressed anger as poisonous as this. At first it frightened her, then it sent exhilaration pulsing through her. Her love for Jack had been cut off at the root. Now hatred filled her veins, making her feel alive again. ‘And so you know, I care nothing for your opinion,’ she added.

She managed to remain upright, though her vision came in waves. She could feel her strength leaving her, but she had to spit out the truth so he’d have no illusions as to the kind of woman he’d married. A woman no good man deserved.

‘You married me because you needed a wife. I married you so I could keep my child. We made a contract. My body is yours to do with as you please, but that is all you will ever have. My thoughts, my feelings, my love will be forever out of bounds to you.’

Beverley will award a $20 Amazon or Barnes & Noble Gift Card to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour.
the more times you comment on the tour, the better your chances of winning!
Posted in Explaining the Strange Behavior, Lane is Reading

I Have Resolved to be Less Vapid

My New Year’s Resolution is to quit all celebrity gossip that cannot be reasonably avoided.  I started feeling a little too Idiocracy (get this movie and watch it if you haven’t already) about the extent of my knowledge into the lives of various strangers, who will never know me from Adam.  I mean, I probably know more about what certain troubled daughters of Hollywood have been up to, than their own mothers.  Once I realized I was guessing blind items more easily than I could work a crossword puzzle, I knew there was trouble.  I aim to change.

Like smokers turn to nicotine patches, though I’ve gone cold turkey on the celeb gossip sites, I am currently dosing myself with a book about Catherine the Great, who worked like a Clinton and partied like a Kardashian.  It kills a few birds.  I get to enjoy the gossipy stories about her heralded personal life, get to satisfy my pre-Soviet Russia sweettooth, buff up on my 18th Century European and Eastern European history, and just flat out enjoy the audacious character of this amazing woman, whose toilet I have seen in person.

After this book, I have lined up a book about phrasing your speech to the utmost advantage, a book on neuroscience that deals with whether or not biological free will exists, and a book that is…

An entertaining illumination of the stupid beliefs that make us feel wise, based on the popular blog,

You believe you are a rational, logical being who sees the world as it really is, but journalist David McRaney is here to tell you that you’re as deluded as the rest of us. But that’s OK-delusions keep us sane. You Are Not So Smart is a celebration of self-delusion. It’s like a psychology class, with all the boring parts taken out, and with no homework. Collecting more than sixty of the lies we tell ourselves every day, McRaney has produced a fascinating synthesis of cutting-edge psychology research to turn our minds inside out.

You Are Not So Smart covers a wide range of topics drawn from all aspects of life, such as coffee (it doesn’t stimulate you; it’s just a cure for caffeine withdrawal), placebo buttons (those fake thermostats and crosswalk knobs that give us the illusion of control), hindsight bias (when we learn something new, we reassure ourselves that we knew it all along), confirmation bias (our brains resist new ideas, instead paying attention only to findings that reinforce our preconceived notions), and brand loyalty (we reach for the same brand not because we trust its quality but because we want to reassure ourselves that we made a smart choice the last time we bought it). Packed with interesting sidebars and quick guides on cognition and common fallacies, You Are Not So Smart is infused with humor and wit.


Wish me luck.  Quitting isn’t going to be easy.

Posted in Lane is Reading

Way on Down

I am really into reading memoirs these days, and I picked up four at B&N last week. I gave up on reading Jenna Jameson’s book because it was depressing me. Reading about how much someone loves and trusts their spouse, when you know they are now divorced and acrimonious is sad. Also, what a horrible life that woman had! So, I started reading I’m Down, by Mishna Wolff.

On the back of the book, Jennifer Beals says that she was laughing from page one and throughout. Funny memoir, I thought. Excellent!

Bloody hell! Jennifer Beals either didn’t read the same book I did, or she has a really sick sense of humor. I could hardly read the last four chapters because the water in my eyes was blurring up the pages too badly. Not. Funny. At. All. Sad. Sad, sad, sad.

Sad, but extremely well written. If I may, Wolff has a voice like a Judy Blume character. Had Margaret Simon grown up in the ghetto, she could have written this book. So, it felt very comfortable and natural to read. Still, I have a headache from the sad now.

Why read memoirs? I like learning about other people. I find people endlessly fascinating. And I like knowing more about the human experience from the perspective of other humans living it–not just an anthropological or historical viewpoint. And, because I find that the experiences of others frequently informs me making better changes in my own life. Feeling sorry for myself because of X? Well thank god I didn’t have to live through Y! Wondering how to get from point A to point B? Maybe I can try how he went from point C to point D. It works for me.

Soon, I will start reading Love in a Headscarf and Mennonite in a Little Black Dress. I hope those are humorous. I would much rather laugh than cry.