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The answer is Neva Case. If the former big-city attorney hadn’t been out in her pick-up, Mick wouldn’t be alive. Mick’s never met anyone quite like Neva. She’s smart, sexy, and passionate. She also has a secret. Neva runs the Big Brown Barn, an underground shelter for young girls forced into unwanted polygamist marriages. Neva would do anything for these girls—and that’s what worries Mick. Neva may be trusting, but Mick’s instincts tell him that something’s not quite right. He’s not about to let someone get to Neva and the girls on his watch. Especially when one of the girls brings trouble straight to the barn’s front door.

Now, with the shelter in unimaginable danger and time running out, Mick is in for the fight of his life, one that could cost him the woman he’s come to love more than anything…

Simon has never met a woman as passionate and driven as Amanda, or as devastatingly attractive. He can’t decide if he wants to put her on the next plane home—in the cargo hold—or kidnap her and spend a long weekend showing her exactly the kind of negotiating he likes best. Come to think of it, if the lady wants war, maybe they should engage in full-on battle…in the bedroom...and see who will be the victor. But when intimacy leads to an explosive passion, it might be time to think of a different, more permanent kind of merger...one that’s less about business and all about pleasure...

Deirdre Martin's The Penalty Box starts the night Katie Fisher attends her ten-year reunion. Cinderella-like, Katie has transformed from fat and nerdy into gorgeous and nerdy. Also a woman who, despite a college education, doesn't get basic nutrition. Of course, her high school dream-boy, Paul van Dorn, digs the skinny, confident (used advisedly) Katie.

The cover of Susan Lyons’ debut novel Champagne Rules depicts a nude couple, face to face, embracing. The man is dread-locked, goateed, and well muscled; the woman is soft, slender and at ease. It’s lovely; sexy but not gratuitous, erotic but not graphic. It’s also overlaid with an aborigine tint that mutes the contrast of the models’ skin colors and washes out the sharp lines of their bodies. This might be a random artistic decision—perhaps covers that appear to be a solid shade of eggplant are the new thing—or it might be that the color purple plays heavily into the plot—but this does not turn out to be the case—or perhaps rendering the cover models colorless is the publisher’s attempt to suggest social commentary on interracial couples: the skin color doesn’t matter; all that matters is the coming together of man and woman. Or perhaps the cover is shrouded in ambiguity because the interracial couple at the heart of Champagne Rules: Jaxon Navarre, a Jamaican immigrant to the U.S., and Suzanne Brennan, an Anglo-Canadian, are a couple in conflict over priorities rather than one whose story hinges on the difference in their skin colors.

It’s a particular curiosity that a genre of fiction as large and as encompassing as romance continues to grow, not with experimental or speculative creativity, but by continually recreating and repackaging and retreading the same product. Romance readers like their formulas and constructs and that’s fine. But, when the same story is told over and over again it should become more polished with each telling, more fine tuned every time it’s recited. What it can’t do is fail on the most elementary level. Fiction, for all its many elastic incarnations, must rigidly hold to certain fundamentals: stories must have beginnings, middles, and ends, setting and character must be established, conflict must build and action must rise, then fall. Fiction that doesn’t ascend to this most basic level—especially in a genre that takes so few risks—fails.

HelenKay: From the title of this book you may expect a swashbuckling alpha hero - sort of a romance read of old where the strong handsome man kidnaps the desperate heroine and through a serious of arguments and fights love blooms. In these other tales, financial interests or vengeance motivates the hero's actions. Love isn't the goal; it's the result.

In some ways that throwback description fits Marshall's Captain Sinister's Lady but not really. Morgan Roberts does capture Amanda Stephenson and does decide he wants to keep her. Those characteristics remain. The difference here is in the why and how. The problem here is in the when. One of the drawbacks of the book is that the majority of the romance action takes place in in the first third of the book, leaving the last 200 pages with little conflict or driving force.

[HelenKay] One of our regular features here at PBR is the author favorite spot. One of us picks an all-time favorite and tortures the others by insisting the book get a special review. Jayne Ann Krentz is my all-time favorite romance author. This likely is a result of her being the first romance author I ever read, but my opinion of her has not wavered over time. As my romance novel preferences change (and they have), my appreciation of her work has not diminished. Now, for reasons that are not clear, Wendy does not appreciate Krentz with an appropriate level of enthusiasm. Actually, she doesn't have any enthusiasm for Krentz. Rather than force her to read the book and thereby, potentially, allow this horrific flaw in Wendy's reading taste to destroy our friendship and reviewing arrangement, I turned to Kassia for assistance. Kassia, being the witty and clever soul she is, shares my admiration for all things Krentz.

The real story is that Wendy, having done a host of solo reviews during my deadline-inflicted absence, is taking a much deserved rest. Unfortunately her anti-Krentz mindset is also true.

For those who don't know, Perfect Partners follows the story of Letty Thornquist, a librarian at a small mid-western college. Letty inherits a sporting goods company (Thornquist Gear) upon the death of the owner who is also her uncle. Still stinging from her fiancee's infidelity, Letty sees the inheritance as her ticket to a new life and relocates to Washington to run the company. The CEO of Thornquist Gear, Joel Blackstone, has other ideas. He dreads the arrival of the intellectual and plans to move her out of the way. He's been using the company to inflict a little revenge on his hometown and the influential businessman who ruined Joel's family. Joel needs Letty to stay out of the way, and out of his company, until the vengeance is complete.

Then Joel meets Letty, and his priorities change.

HelenKay: Just as there are old standards in romance songs - think Sinatra - there are some old standards in romance novels. These are the patterns and situations authors use over and over to push the romance where they want it to go. The unfaithful fiancee who drives the heroine into the arms of the hero. The marriage of convenience. The domineering family that rules the adult child's life through a series of threats and enticements. The hero who loves dogs. Actually, that last one might be okay in any book.

Sometimes these elements, alone or together in some combination, work. The reader jumps on for the ride, just happy to be on board. Other times, the reader shuts down from the repetitive scenarios. It's a fine line, one usually separated by a strong author voice, writing that shines and characters that feel full despite the recycled storyline. When the author falls on the right side of the line, the been-there-done-that feeling is forgiven. When, as here, those old romance standards combine with a too-good hero, a weak heroine and an odd run to Vegas, those been-there-done-that feelings become flaws and the forgiving doesn't come easy.

I am a heretical Regency fan. I don’t care much about historical accuracy. Don’t worry about lines of succession. And, frankly, I’m not all that much fascinated by muslin, sprigged or not. When it comes to reading Regency, I’m all about the style of the story.

Michelle Martin’s The Adventurers, published in 1996 (and sadly out-of-print – go forth, pay lots of money on the black market for this one), is one of my favorite Regencies. Let’s call it my comfort Regency. Oh sure, I adore all of Martin’s work, but The Adventurers is the one I pick up first, second, and last.

HelenKay: Romantic conflict. There are competing views on this issue. Some argue that a romance novel, by its very definition, requires an attraction between the hero and heroine as well as compelling reason to keep them apart - the something standing between the hero and heroine that prevents a happily ever after from being a foregone conclusion. Others say that a romantic conflict pulling the hero and heroine apart often feels trite or forced because we know how that part of the story will end. For these folks, something else can drive the plot without having the story suffer. Parallel Attraction should appeal to the latter group but will likely violate all the "rules" set out by the former.

HelenKay: The front cover of Sword of Darkness starts out with a joke. Sherrilyn Kenyon provides a cover quote praising MacGregor's first book in the Lords of Avalon series. Kenyon and MacGregor are, of course, the same person. Hence the joke. Kenyon explains in her Author's Note at the end of the book, that the quote grew out of a conversation with her editor. The real question is: when a book begins with a jest and then takes on a legend as strong and pervasive as King Arthur, will the joke be on the reader?

If this discussion were a television show, it would probably fall into the "Fear Factor" category: a beloved author goes off and, horrors!, collaborates with another author. Immediately, worst case scenarios fill your mind. What if her style is overwhelmed? What if the stuff I like isn't there? What if it isn't good?

We (Kassia, Wendy, and HelenKay) faced our fears and lived to write about it. When Jennifer Crusie announced that she was co-authoring a book with Bob Mayer (who is that? we all said), people wondered how it would all work out. After all, Crusie is one of those authors who doesn't need help. She's great just the way she is. And that hasn't changed. What is different became the stuff of our lengthy discussion. Which naturally does not require you to have read the book first, though if you did, we want to hear your thoughts on our thoughts.

World's shortest plot synopsis: Lucy Armstrong is brought in to direct some final (and pointless) scenes of a movie. On set is her sister (Daisy), niece (Pepper), and ex-husband (Connor Nash). Also, J.T. Wilder, stunt double and Green Beret. Things quickly get out of control, danger ensues, shadowy figures try to play puppet master, and Lucy and J.T. try to make sense of it all. There are crosses and double-crosses and possibly a triple-cross. Action and romance and alligators (Moot). It's all there.

As previously noted, I have read, sometimes voraciously, romance since, well, my whole life. Yet, I managed, somehow, to avoid all of the big names of the genre. As I’ve rectified my omissions, I’ve discovered some great authors, puzzled over the success of others, and wondered what was the big deal about some. You know, the authors who are okay but not great, write nice stories but nothing that rises above the crowd, have a certain something but not enough to make you seek out more.

Thus we come to Linda Lael Miller. I won her title Daniel’s Bride through a Paperback Reader contest. Or rather, I won the privilege of reading and reviewing Daniel’s Bride through a Paperback Reader contest – my idea, which should teach me something. Hey, I thought, I like new stuff. I make macaroni and cheese with chipotle cheddar.

Just in time for wedding season, Catch of the Day arrives with wedding themed novellas by Whitney Lyles, Beverly Brandt, Cathie Linz and Pamela Clare. This anthology offers readers a quick and uncomplicated dip into stories that stay tightly focused on the hero and heroine, while wading through bridal bouquets, pre-wedding jitters, extreme ceremonies, and ugly bridesmaid dresses. Like any wedding, Catch of the Day's crescendos are well planned and well carried out and conversely the low points are as painful and disastrous as a fumbled wedding cake.

Long running, single protagonist series might be one of the most difficult things to pull off in fiction. On one end of the spectrum there are Robert Parker’s Spenser books where Spenser never ages, never evolves, he just keeps solving those crimes. The sameness and lack of growth quickly become frustrating. And on the other end is Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series where the characters do move forward and change and in the process loose that precious something that made the reader want more of them. Through four books in the Hollows series, Kim Harrison has neatly avoided these divergent issues with a layered heroine, Rachel Morgan, who is equal parts kick-butt and vulnerable and inhabits a universe that is strife-rich in design and richer still by Rachel’s actions.

With paranormal romances awash in vampires and werewolves, it’s the rare author who offers something new to the sub-genre. It is the even rarer author who manages this feat without relying on the use of clichés common to romance novels. In Dark Protector, Alexis Morgan’s Paladins offer a fresh, new mythology to the paranormal world only to fail to overcome other standard conventions and a lack of world-building.

These days it’s difficult to trip over a pink covered book without hearing talk of chick lit’s death. But, how fatal is this death? Is it the same sort of plague westerns fell victim to, when a genre that was once all powerful disappeared from bookstore shelves? Or, is it more like the nuclear winter Hair Bands of the 80s faced when a glut of pretty boy groups perished under Seattle’s influence with only a couple of bands proving to have talent and staying power?

What hope is there for this admittedly bloated genre of fiction? While the one-thousandth retelling of a plucky single girl in the city, who drinks trendy cocktails and lusts after an obvious cad doesn’t hold appeal, the much boarder spectrum of chick lit does. There are still stories to be told, and, quite simply, there is a need for a fictional medium for irreverent young women and the third wave feminism issues they face.

The Young Adult genre has blown wide open in the last few years, tripling in size and print runs; where once a teen reader was stranded in the no man’s land between Intermediate and Adult Fiction they now have many authors vying for their age group and attention. With women doing the majority of the book buying, it is no surprise that young, female protagonists populate the shelves. Whether they are mean girls, the target of mean girls or dealing with issues that range from body image to rape, authors find ways to interpret the teenage experience in new and (hopefully) interesting ways. To this end, a sub-genre has even developed where authors overlay high school woes with a paranormal sheen, giving the unwanted high school label “freak” a whole new meaning.

Once upon a time, a young woman stood at the edge of the library stacks, wondering where, oh where, she’d find her perfect story. Years went by, and she continued to seek the perfect story. One was too hot, one was too cold, very few were just right.

Still she kept reading, deciding that no one tome would fit her every mood. She settled on a mix of stories, figuring variety was the spice of fantasy. After all, there is a great difference between story and reality. One always ends just right, the other, well, you know how it is when you wake up to cat vomit. Or morning breath. They sometimes smell the same.

You go to the bookstore in search of a contemporary romance read. A solid, straightforward romance read. Not erotica or erotic romance. No suspense or mystery. No vampires, werewolves or other evidence of paranormal. Sounds easy in theory. Reality is the problem.

Oh, books of this type are on the shelves. You just have to dig through all of the book with photos of vampires, witches and mostly naked people on the bindings first. And when you find that non-historical, non-erotica, non-paranormal romance you face an even bigger issue - will it hold your attention. The question is, without the worldbuilding necessary for paranormal romance, without a dead body or missing something, will this newly purchased contemporary romance keep you turning all 400 pages. Authors like Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Jennifer Crusie, Lani Diane Rich and Meg Cabot craft novels where the pacing, plot and character development all work together with success. Others don't.

This is a don't.

Some books, like JR Ward’s Lover Awakened, are eagerly anticipated with pre-orders numbers that one would expect from a New York Times best seller veteran. Other books, the sort in a superstar stratosphere unto themselves, like the Harry Potter books, are obsessively waited for: countdown clocks are made, lines form, the devoted sleep on sidewalks for the chance to be the first with the book in their hands. And then, there are books like Teresa Medeiros’ The Vampire Who Loved Me, a book, like the others, awaited, but with sanity and patience. A book fans of After Midnight (Merdeiros’ first look at the Cabot sisters) are certainly interested in, but one unlikely to inspire camping out for. As it turns out, The Vampire Who Loved Me isn’t a book to sit nicely on the to-be-read pile, but demands to be read immediately and without interruption.

The time has come to throw back the curtain and provide a sneak peek into the inner workings of PBR. If you believe all of the book discussions resemble refined Oprah Book Club teas, prepare to be disappointed. The behind-the-scenes action here at PBR is not all that sophisticated at times. In fact, the words "rugby match" come to mind.

The process starts simply enough. Books arrive from authors, from publishers, from PR professionals and, every now and then, from actual bookstores following the exchange of money or credit between PBR reviewers and said bookstores. We pass around titles and upcoming releases. But sometimes - not all the time, but sometimes - a book just sits there and manages to create controversy.

Enter the anthology Hell With The Ladies by Julie Kenner, Kathleen O'Reilly and Dee Davis.

The primitiveness of 1136 Scotland can make the modern mind shiver. Those pesky Romans were gone from England but the Normans had come and conquered and subsequently left their mark on: the English language (the beginnings of its modern version anyway), the monarchy, and well, sufficed to say, Western history. Outside of the political arena the daily lives of average folks were pretty tough. There was no Costco back then. Which might not matter as there was also no refrigeration to keep five gallon tubs of mayonnaise fresh. For that matter, there were also no cell phones, TiVo, internet, cars, or anything approaching modern convenience. It actually gets much worse than no electricity, there was also no public sanitation (that’s for humans or livestock). It would be another seven or eight hundred years before people started to bathe regularly (and by people, that means: people with money; and by regularly: that doesn’t mean daily). Given the harsh and unhygienic conditions, it’s no surprise that the life expectancy was only in the early thirties. All things considered, it was a dicey time.

Back at the dawn of the chicklit era, authors like Helen Fielding and Melissa Banks were getting a lot of attention (even though I still remain confused by Melissa Banks’ inclusion on the chicklit list). However, a select, savvy group of readers were hip to an author who largely slipped under the media radar: Marian Keyes.

Keyes is an Irish author who writes bitingly funny, painfully real stories about modern day Irish women and the troubles that foil them. Keyes’ depiction of her country – much drinking, smoking, drugging, shopping, and middle class mores – is short on the mystical, magical, woo-woo that passes for Ireland in romance fiction. Since I much prefer the Irish of The Pogues, I couldn’t be happier.