Now that I’m no longer in school and only partially employed, my fragile sense of time seems to have slipped altogether. Halloween and Christmas–much like the presidential election–are tied in a dead heat as my favorite holidays. Today is also the first Halloween when I didn’t wear a costume outside. Alas, by the time I got home from work, all the trick-or-treaters had gone, so now I’m blogging in costume.
On an entirely unrelated note, on to a brief review.
This book has not a hint of supernatural, a twinge of horror, or a drop of blood. The only way in which it might be considered Halloween-worthy is if you think about it from the perspective of the social injustice bastard children faced in 19th-century England, the horror of being blackmailed by your own mother, and the fearful ignominy of having your own little sister sold to the highest bidder.
Lady Maggie’s Secret Scandal shows surprising depth for a romance novel: lovable, well-developed characters and a plot you can sink your teeth into without neglecting the steamy scenes romance fans devour.