5 stars Another masterpiece from Blair Babylon, who I am convinced keeps getting better and better. Max is not at all as I’d imagined him, and really it’s no wonder, since he has been forced to repress who he is. The real Max keeps popping up his head, doing real-Max things that the other Max wishes he wouldn’t do. He struggles with his inner demons to be a Godly man, but he hasn’t quite figured out how to balance the different parts of himself, and as a result, tortues himself. He is a man searching for himself, impeded by too many bad guys who wish him harm. It’s hard to focus on self-actualization while trying to simply survive without getting yourself killed. Dree is also searching for herself, struggling to define herself as more than just a sucker who falls for guys who lie. Interesting, then, that she requires Max lie to her, although I suppose this is how she changes the story she tells herself, since she is the one perpetuating the lie, thus controlling it. Dree is, surprisingly, a bad-ass, so although she comes across as an innocent, country bumpkin, she knows how to fight. It’s this survival instinct that propels her forward from one decision to the next, accepting help when needed, but never shying away from hard work. We know from previous stories that Max is an attractive man. All of Blair Babylon’s leading men are exceedingly attractive. When Dree first sees Max, “It was like he’d scooped up all of the masculine perfection in the world and left none at all for the other guys.” Having a one-night-stand is on Dree’s bucket list of things she must do to change her life, and she is determined to have Max. She’s drunk and Max hesitates, but then “Max considered letting her yank on him while he stood immovable until they had a cogent conversation about whether she was too drunk to consent, but that time had passed. At this point, his choice was to either have sex with her or defend himself.” What follows is something that makes me see Max in an entirely different light. In previous books, his friends had made references to him seeking to become a priest. This lays that theory to rest. I love the scene where Max talks about buying some clothes for Dree and he blithely talks about going to a “showing” where “models wear the clothes so you can select them. They’re tailored and delivered a few days later.” He is genuinely confused about why she would suggest going to a department store to pick out some clothes because “they won’t fit properly.” He has been so sheltered from the type of lives we normal humans lead that he doesn’t even understand why she would want to buy clothes like that. In contrast, Dree has never owned new clothes, always hand-me-downs or second-hand finds, other than the scrubs that were provided when she started work. The two of them are a study in contrasts. There’s a profound scene where the two of them are in bed and it’s very dark, allowing only glimpses of shadows of each other. The descriptions used to convey the feel of the “grey curves in the blackness” is inspired. Max rises to stand next to the bed. “The trickle (of light) made a cluster of semicircles that was the side of Augustine’s (the fake name Dree insisted Max give himself) head, the heavy rounds of his shoulders and biceps, and the inward sweep of his waist to his hip. The line that was his arm moved… Dree reached her hand toward the gray frost on the side of his shoulder and found his skin.” To me, this scene encapsulated so much of the theme of this story: the secrets they are keeping from one another, the desire to share themselves despite the darkness (problems) that surround each of them, combined with the urge to hide in the darkness to protect themselves. This was a scene that made me pause and marvel at the genius of the imagery and the clear metaphor for their lives. Secrets are such an important part of Max and Dree’s story. Both are devout Catholics and both feel shame and guilt for their actions, though neither knows this about the other. Each shares bits and pieces of their truths because they know the other will not believe them, since they’ve already agreed to lie. Both feel a deep connection to the other that they are unwilling to admit, even to themselves, believing they can power through these feelings and leave one another when their time together has come to an end. There’s a built-in expiration date to their adventure together and both are determined to live their lives afterward without regrets. I had suspected Max had strong feelings for Flicka, but it wasn’t until Blair turned her focus on him that I understood the depth of his feelings, the lies he had told himself and allowed himself to believe about their relationship. Because he and Dree are sharing an honesty (disguised as lies) they have never shared with anyone else, he opens up about his feelings and his abiding hope that Flicka might find her way back to him. When he sees a photo of Flicka smiling after marrying Deiter, he is devastated because he recognizes the smile as one of true joy and he understands that he will never have her. Dree comforts him, telling him the truth he had refused to acknowledge for so many years: Flicka never loved him. Then Dree says, “This girl is nothing but a pretty bag of skin stuffed with red flags.” And the narrator comments, “Yes, that was Max's favorite kind of woman.” If, like me, you start wondering why all of these male characters from Le Rosey are so tall and seem to fit a certain sexual profile, that’s addressed in the book too, when the narrator observes: “Le Rosey graduates are often in the top percentile of many traits, whether it was height, income, intelligence, arrogance, or depravity.” At least, Blair is aware that her characters are consistently of a certain type. As the plot unfolded and I began to understand Dree’s situation better, I suspected where this was going, so the ending was not a shocker. It was clear that Max and Dree’s story could not be told in one book so I wasn’t too upset when I reached the end and there was no conclusion. I will be anxiously awaiting the next one. I am fully vested in these characters. I understand them as well as the larger truth that we all lie to ourselves to disguise the truths that are too hard to acknowledge. September 28, 2020
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3 stars In the summer of 2017, I read A Vampire's Seduction by Fleur Camacho. I gave it 4 stars. There were parts of it that were very good (and memorable), despite some plot holes. When I started reading this book, I wondered why it felt so familiar to me. The more I read A Vampire Obsession, the more convinced I became that this was the same story. I really like Ava Mason’s writing so I was having trouble wrapping my head around the possibility of plagiarism. I couldn’t imagine it, and this was compounded by the fact that this book was almost identical to the one I had already read. Surely, a plagiarist would go to greater efforts to conceal her actions. The only thing to do was to email Ava to ask, and I was relieved to find out that she wrote A Vampire’s Seduction under the name of Fleur Camacho. That helped to explain why I haven’t seen any follow up books in the series since reading A Vampire’s Possession (book 2). I don’t know whether my standards have changed (it would make sense that they have), but I was disappointed in this rewrite. I didn’t like Detrand at all and I found the instant connection between him and Adelade a little hard to fathom. The dominant-submissive twist to their story was a turn-off for me. I understand that the strigoi are a sensual/sexual species, but the ease with which a virginal young woman (a human in, I’m guessing, the 1800s) adjusted and reveled in Detrand’s over-the-top sexual proclivities made it impossible for me to suspend my disbelief. I found myself slogging through the sex scenes, which I did not find vaguely erotic. I don’t think I’m a prude, but as I read this book, I found myself questioning whether I need to be more open-minded. No, I don’t think that’s it. I think the problem is that Ava tried to heat things up without putting in the work to build the relationship between Detrand and Adelaide. I definitely understood and believed the obsession aspect of the relationship, but I was asked to believe in the love between them, and that was a bridge too far. By the end of the book, the love was more believable, but I was weary of reading about them having sex. There were some good things about this book. Notably, the world-building was effective and many of the questions I had after reading the original were answered. Characters were well-developed, although there were so many supporting characters, it was sometimes difficult to keep them straight (particularly in the beginning). I think there should have been more exploration of Elena’s character and her relationships with Detrand and with Adelade. Descriptions were vivid and scenes were easy to visualize. Unfortunately, in the end, I didn’t identify with or like any of the characters enough that I would have been sad had any of them died. I’ll still be happy to read anything from Ava Mason, but assuming any followup books would be similarly written (with a heavier emphasis on graphic sex than on plot), I feel I’ve had enough of this series. September 26, 2020 |
Elizabeth J ConnorWriter. Editor. Proofreader. Archives
September 2022
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