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Things aren't going well for Shanna Whelan, either. After witnessing a gruesome murder, she's next on the mob's hit list. And her career as a dentist appears to be on a downward spiral because she's afraid of blood. When Roman rescues her from an assassination attempt, she wonders if she's found the one man who can keep her alive. Though the attraction between them is immediate and hot, can Shanna conquer her fear of blood to fix Roman's fang? And if she does, what will prevent Roman from using his fangs on her ... ?

The new episode in Feehan’s “GhostWalker” series comes “specially designed for comfortable reading.” Other things designed for my comfort are feminine hygiene products. Comfort is one of those elastic words designed to mask a product’s real function – if one were to rely on advertising alone, the true purpose of these products would be lost. This particular book was no more or no less comfortable than any other book I’m reading. It does cost more, drawing me to conclude that comfort means pricy.

This comfortable read tells the story of Iris “Flame” Johnson (quick: guess the color of her hair!) and Raoul “Gator” Fontenot. Yes, the names appeared just like that in the text. This tick carried on far too long; I got it on the first page.

I do not wonder this about Awaiting The Moon by Donna Lea Simpson. I have little patience for vampires and werewolves and things that go bump in the night, mostly because most authors strain credulity when trying to make these phenomena plausible. Simpson sucked me in and made believe that, sure, a nice guy with a never-ending list of family problems might also be hiding a werewolf-sized secret.

Of all the interesting paradoxes that exist in genre romance the oddest, or most absurd perhaps, is that paranormal romance has taken the creatures of the night and turned them into heroes and heroines. To be fair, the vampires, witches, and werewolves that once played the roles of monsters have undergone an image makeover that left them not so monstrous, but rather, toothless, without much power, and neutered. It’s understandable really: a hero viewing a heroine as a tasty meal—and not the sexual kind—isn’t too sexy, or a good basis for a love story. Unfortunately, some important elements of these other beings have been lost to the image overhaul. For example, what’s exciting and compelling about werewolves is the classic man against beast conflict which leads so eloquently to man against man conflict. But, in the toothless version that is so often presented in paranormal romance, werewolves are shape-shifters not enslaved to the full moon, not possessed to bite and kill people, and therefore not in danger of being killed themselves. Not only does this watered down version lack inherent conflict, by taking away the gruesome, helpless aspect of lycanthropy the compelling reason for it to exist in a story is also removed. What’s left is a man or woman who can shift into an animal. What is the purpose of that?

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.

Wendy: Romance’s greatest strength lies in its numbers: the number of readers it claims, the number of sales it racks up, the number of authors who forge a career in it, and the number—the sheer volume—of romance titles released each year. While many of those titles are familiar retreads of what has come before, there is always a gem awaiting discovery. Just when it seems every angle and possibility has been played out, a new voice, a new perspective comes along to breathe new life into the old constructs and to play hard and fast with the old rules. These discoveries don’t come along often enough, but when they do, they are something more than simply a good read: they are a reminder of all the reasons why romances are passionately consumed and lovingly cherished. J.R. Ward’s The Black Dagger Brotherhood series of paranormal romances are those rare gems, full of heroes that are a higher order of Alpha Male, heroines that bring those heroes to heel, and stories that are obstacle and conflict rich.

Why is it that most books about vampires and werewolves are so deadly serious? Oh, right, deadly. All those sharp teeth, the blood-sucking, the tearing from limb-to-limb. I suppose evil beings might strike some as non-frivolous subjects. But not MaryJanice Davidson – in her newest short story collection, Dead and Loving It, she offers vampires and werewolves with humor to spare.

Housekeeping first: Dead and Loving It is a collection of three previously published short stories and one brand-spanking new story. The older stories came out in e-book format – “Santa Claws”, “Monster Love”, and “There’s No Such Thing As A Werewolf” were published by Ellora’s Cave. This little bit of knowledge explains some of the action in the sex scenes, if you know what I mean. The final story, “A Fiend In Need” is original and, apparently, highly anticipated. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

As fairy tales go, the one where the handsome prince sweeps into a small village and tells a pretty—if unassuming—young woman that she is his princess, is hard to beat. Whether the young girl is cleaning out fireplaces or just living an ordinary life, wife of royalty is a more exciting proposition. Then there is the prince himself, who in the fairy tales is always tall, dark, and handsome, and never ever has ears like dinner plates. In romances the prince (be that literal or figurative) is monstrously well endowed, with a prowess that never abates, and enough skill to coax even the most shy and reluctant future princess into multiple earth shattering orgasms. The enduring and wide spread appeal of this fairy tale is understandable. Who wouldn’t want Prince Charming? Jennifer Ashley takes on the tale and the prince in Penelope & Prince Charming and proves that the story is worth telling again.

HelenKay: With so many paranomal offerings following the lives (or undead lives, as the case may be) of vampires, witches, werewolves and other nightstalking creatures, a reader can find anything from funny to horror on the shelves. Paranormal reads of the vampire variety range from the more harsh, like Kassandra Sims' The Midnight Work, to light and charming, like Kerrelyn Sparks' How to Marry a Millionaire Vampire. Recent witch/Wicca stories tend to fall more on the humorous side, but the not-so-funny are available, too. If the quest then is to find something new, to set one paranomal apart from the one read before, what happens if an author combines funny with serious and vampires with witches? Tate Hallaway provides the answer in Tall, Dark & Dead. She even throws in the Goddess of Evil, and witch hunters who get their orders straight from the Vatican.

It would seem romance is a genre that easily lends itself to camp. The larger-than-life heroes, the too-good-to-be-true heroines, the often overwrought storylines, and most especially the clinch covers--with the flowing locks and bare chests--are undertaken with a seriousness that belies the pulp nature of this form of entertainment. That more romances don’t come off as campy is, frankly, surprising and likely a testament to the skill of romance authors which manage to take their material seriously enough for it to be engaging and compelling; but not so serious that the material is easily ridiculous. Nina Bangs’ novel Wicked Pleasure, on the other hand, doesn’t find this balance and, despite a humorous style, falls firmly into camp.

When is a vampire not a vampire? When is the flu just the flu? When is an engagement not an engagement? When is a bad guy not a bad guy? And...when is it okay to get bitten by a complete stranger at a literary party?

All good questions. For that last one, the answer probably is "never" but maybe not. The other answers aren't as clear and answers are exactly what you'll want. See, Happy Hour at Casa Dracula is one of those books that raises several questions as it goes flying off in a hundred different directions. The book is hard to define in terms of romance versus paranormal versus chick lit with a twist. But, and here's the best part, it's equally hard to put down. This is due, in part, to Acosta's engaging voice and, in even bigger part, to a desire to know what the hell is happening here.

HelenKay: In this second book in the series that started with Kitty and the Midnight Hour and is already slated to run for two more adventures in 2007, Vaughn proves one thing: politics can suck the life out of anything and anyone.

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.

Though a Minnesota native, Betsy Taylor is the quintessential Valley Girl. Tall, blonde and leggy with a shoe fetish, she was living an ordinary life when she had a day from hell that cumulated in her dying—and rising again as Queen of the Vampires. Undead and Unreturnable is the fourth book in the series that follows the trials and tribulations of Queen Betsy as she tries to come to terms with her undead life. Though Undead and Unreturnable can stand on its own, like most series it’s better to read the books in sequence, including MaryJanice Davidson’s short stories in this universe. While Davidson does a decent job in reintroducing characters and storylines, there’s enough back story that a reader starting at Undead and Unreturnable might be a little confused on who fits where and why.

This is the fifth book in MaryJanice Davidson’s Undead series, following the death and times of Betsy, Queen of the Vampires. Though a Minnesota native, Betsy Taylor is the quintessential Valley Girl. Tall, blonde and leggy with a shoe fetish, she was living an ordinary life when she was killed in an auto accident—and rose again as Queen of the Vampires. Undead and Unpopular follows the trials and tribulations of Queen Betsy as she tries to come to terms with her undead life. Like the previous book, Undead and Unreturnable, Undead and Unpopular can stand on its own. However, it’s better to read the books in sequence, beginning with Undead and Unwed.

Okay, I admit it: I judge books by their covers. You can’t tell me that you don’t. Humans are visual creatures. At some point, you’re looking at the cover of a book and thinking, “Hmm, that looks like exactly what I want.”

I did that with Kelley Armstrong’s Dime Store Magic. It has one of those shades-of-blue covers that suggests a sexy paranormal. Oddly (for me), I was in the mood for a sexy paranormal. The blue shadows suggested something along the lines of dark, too. I was in the mood for dark. One of those weeks, you know.

I didn’t quite get what I expected.

Wendy: It isn’t often that an author or book emerges from the vast ocean of yearly romance releases and stands outs as a talent or story that must be given attention. In any genre, talent is at a premium, and the argument that more books are released than there are capable writers to pen them is an easy one. That is an especially easy criticism of romance where there are so many books and so few authors offering originality. When J.R. Ward hit romance shelves a year ago with Dark Lover the impact was immediate. There she was, that fabled romance author with the skill to build an epic world of her own and the writing chops to lure readers into it. Then, six months later with the release of Lover Eternal it became clear that not only could Ward lure readers in, she could keep them in the palm of her hand as well. Perhaps then, it shouldn’t be surprising that a mere year after the first of the Black Dagger Brotherhood series came out, the third, Lover Awakened has Ward bound for New York Times bestseller list glory and a place among the upper echelon of genre writers.

I have just read the recently posted review by my fellow Heyer worshipper, Kassia, where she ponders the question of when a lengthy series reaches its “use by” date. This problem is not limited just to romances. In all the genres, storylines can span anywhere from two to an infinite number of books. The most common is the infamous trilogy with a single story stretched out over three books, à la Lord of the Rings. While there are longer single-story series (like Robert Jordan’s massive Wheel of Time, which at last count is up to book eleven, not including the prequel), usually those that go beyond three are “stand alone” where each book is complete in itself, such as JD Robb’s In Death or Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton series.

The greatest strength of paranormal romance is the opportunity it provides for diversity in the genre. The boy-meets-girl-loses-girl-wins-girl-back formula can be told with infinite variations when things such as five-hundred-year-life-spans are thrown into the mix. Unfortunately, paranormal has largely proved more homogeneous than hetero: he’s a vampire too noble to drink blood; she’s a good witch; he/she is a werewolf willing to chew off his/her own paw rather than bite a human. Limiting paranormal to a few constructs, a few worn out mythologies, constricts the subgenre to the strangling point and robs it of its most interesting aspect. One niche of paranormal romance that has yet to be winnowed down is science fiction. The opportunities for worlds with alternate histories, futures and presents that are populated with humans – or human like characters – are infinite and authors like Nalini Singh make a fantastic argument for more sci-fi romances.

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.

Some books defy easy definition. These books may best be described by what they aren't. A promise of a suspense not met. A romance focused only on the chase and not on the catch. A vampire tale less about vampires than about societal pressures. If a book isn't as suspenseful as advertised, or isn't really a romantic as hoped, disgruntled readers tend to rise up and complain of missed expectations. But, other times a book has just enough of everything to be enticing. Kimberly Raye's Dead End Dating falls into the latter category.

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.

Highlander in Her Bed is the sort of romance novel that, by intention, strains credibility at every turn. The principles are an American woman, Mara McDougall – who, despite having no Scottish relations, inherits a Scottish castle – and a seven-hundred-year-old Scottish ghost, Alex Douglas. The conflict is obvious and immediate, as is the catch: A ghost, unlike his undead brethren, lacks a corporeal body, and something, most likely something implausible, needs to happen to ensure the hero and heroine jaunt off to their happily ever after. A bit of poof or smoke and mirrors needs to be employed so that the ghost is alive again or, at least, just solid flesh. One of the most exciting aspects of romance is the willingness of the authors who work within the genre to take on a premise that doesn’t even hope to be believable. Every once in a while there is a rather spectacular payoff for the risk. Usually such success is the result of grounding an otherwise unbelievable premise –The Black Dagger Brotherhood comes to mind – but here, with Highlander in Her Bed, Allie MacKay didn’t take that route, instead she went for the might-as-well-hemorrhage-believability-at-every-turn path and the result is only spectacular in the train wreck sense of the word.

Erin McCarthy has stumbled onto a bit of obvious brilliance: If there is a perfect place for vampires in the twenty-first century, that place is Las Vegas. It’s logical that the hot, sexy, and just a-little-bit dangerous undead, would make a town that caters to the night and doesn’t blush over indulgences in avarice, lust, and gluttony their home. In the hands of the right author, Las Vegas is a backdrop rife with conflict and rich with potential for the living and not-so-alive alike. In the hands of the wrong author – an author who doesn’t seem to know the city beyond tourism commercials – well, then, you have the second installment in the Vegas Vampires series Bit the Jackpot.

Jackie Kessler’s debut, Hell’s Belles purports to be a paranormal romance. The cover, a red-saturated shot of the city with a shapely leg taking center stage, looks like so many other paranormals on the shelves that the images could be taken as shorthand for the presumed story within: striking and strong young heroine overcomes evil with sass and luck when not tumbling the strapping young stud who turns out to be The One. Even the jacket copy points to romance, something light and frothy, something easy to read, quick to be consumed and then forgotten. But that’s not what Hell’s Belles is. Paranormal romance doesn’t fit this book nearly as well as fantasy does and readers eager for a by-the-numbers romance won’t find that here.

There’s little room for surprise in the clockwork art that is genre fiction. What is expected of the formula is, after all, the expected. But fiction, good fiction, needs the element of surprise, some bit of plot or character or device that isn’t as expected. It is in the unanticipated, the unforeseen, the unpredicted that talent shines brightest and readers are given something memorable. Debut author Colleen Gleason has neatly sidestepped the issue of triteness with The Rest Falls Away, by stretching and straddling genre boundaries. The result is a story that isn’t strictly a romance or strictly a paranormal or strictly a Regency. It’s a romance without a central love story, a paranormal that never looses sight of the fact that vampires are monsters, and a Regency whose heroine has something besides the ton on her mind. All that makes for a read that surprises.

For a romance novel to be rich and full, one of the usual requirements is that the heroine possess believable faults and, in some cases, many faults. Idiosyncrasies, difficult backstories, fears, dysfunctional families all help to fill-in the person the heroine is at the beginning of a story. Faults, yes, but rarely does a heroine seduce then suck the souls of the men she meets. That's just not something a "normal" heroine does. Then again, a succubus is not a "normal" heroine and Succubus Blues is not the usual romance.

Wendy: In the last year, HelenKay and I, like so many other romance readers, have turned into unapologetic, drooling J.R Ward fangirls. Our reviews of the previous Black Dagger Brotherhood entries have been nothing short of a breathless, gush-fest wherein we extolled the greatness of the writing, the characters, the universe, the… well…everything. We just love these books. Which is why we’ve treated Lover Revealed to a back and forth discussion instead of the point-counter-point style we usually use for new releases.

Lover Revealed is the fourth installment of J.R. Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood series. This time the focus is on the perhaps unlikely duo of human ex-cop Butch O'Neal and Marissa, the one-time-would-be shellan of the vampire king Wrath. Butch and Marissa met in the series' opener and continued their almost relationship through the next two books. At story's opening, their star turn finds them apart and at odds for all the easily-resolved-if-only-they'd-talk-about-it reasons that this couple has previously faced. After Butch is captured by lessers, tortured, and given a parting gift by the Omega himself, Marissa rushes to Butch's bedside to nurse him through recovery and their romance begins – or continues as the case may be – in earnest.