The Veil of Night (Signet Eclipse) [Mass Market Paperback]

Worn out premise. Unbelieveable characters. The writing is so uneven that I could never get into the flow of the story - even if it had been better. The hint of the secret with the hero just wound up being annoying. Boring, boring, boring. Such a dissapointment.

What a letdown this book was. I've been anticipating it for a long time with much excitement because the author has said that her writing is influenced by Laura Kinsale and Judith Ivory, two of my favorite romance authors of all time. No one would love to come across another Kinsale or Ivory more, but I'm sad to say that I can't see any hint of similarity between their writing and Lydia Joyce's.

Joyce's prose style IS above average and pleasant enough to read, though here and there she overuses a word, like "challenge" or "whorl." But the main problem for me was in the characterization. I expected some complexity and layers to the main characters, but they were both lacking in depth. Victoria was your usual spinster heroine, prim on the outside but not on the inside, and Byron the typical "tortured" rakish aristocrat. I put "tortured" in quotes because while he had a good reason to be so, I never really felt his torment emotionally. At no point was I surprised by anything the characters said or did.

On the whole, Victoria and Byron were both pretty predictable, and as a result, their relationship was kind of lackluster. Perhaps part of the problem was that they psychoanalyzed each other so much in their conversations that I wasn't left any room to do any digging into their psyches myself. I also didn't get emotionally invested in either of them. They did not capture my imagination.

The love scenes were a bit more creative than usual, but they lacked the heat I am used to from Ivory and Kinsale. For the most part, the sex was just there. Joyce did a good job with the gothic atmosphere, but I felt that all the darkness in this book was on the outside, not matched any internal darkness in the characters. The book just did not have that sparkle or emotional connection of a favorite read.

To be fair, I should add here that the kind of darker, meaty historical romances I love are very hard to find these days, and I miss them terribly. For that reason, I'm sure I am guilty of having expectations that were too high for Joyce to fulfill. If I compare this book to your average first time author's romance, it is probably slightly better than that. It's only when I compare it to Kinsale and Ivory that I feel so let down. It seems that some readers below loved this book much more than I did, and I envy them and wish I could see the same qualities in it that they do.

I guess my reason for writing this review is to let other readers know not to raise their expectations too much. If you're looking for a formula story that's a pleasant way to pass the time but not too out-of-this-world or special, this book is a decent read. If however, you expect it to knock your socks off, well, you're setting yourself up for disappointment. I think it is a slightly above average debut, but it's very far from matching Kinsale or Ivory.

An enviable beginning. I see some less than favorable reviews here, and while loving or loathing a writer's style is no more an exact science than any other relationship, I disagree adamantly with the notion that touching a nose instead of a breast isn't erotic. In the right hands, tying shoelaces can be erotic. The fact that the love scenes veer away from a well-worn path is one of my favorite things about this book. Not to worry; her breasts aren't neglected. He just takes his time getting there, by the scenic route.

The set-up seems typical at first: a woman is blackmailed into having a sexual affair by a man seeking revenge against her brother. Of course they'll fall in love, after fighting to quell their growing vulnerability to each other. The suspense is in how they find their way from sex to love. Secrets are revealed, emotional barriers are breached, and layers of character are peeled away in a long, slow, emotional strip-tease.

Victoria is a beautifully complicated version of a staple romance character: a wanton in old maid's clothing, hiding her true nature to protect her heart. She plays along with the role of indignant blackmail victim, but it's not as if she'd be left destitute if she refused Byron's shocking proposal. She enters into the bargain willingly, sacrificing pride for for the chance to explore her sexuality after years of self-imposed repression.

Byron is more true to type: the wounded male whose casual cruelty is thin armor against the pain of rejection. His secret doesn't take an Einstein to figure out, either. But if he's not the most original hero on the bookshelf, he makes up for it in bed. He's also a worthwhile verbal sparring partner for Victoria, who is a mistress of the sly rejoinder.

"Veil of Night" is like bittersweet chocolate. Delicious, dark, and rich enough to savor a chapter at a time. In a Hershey Bar world, this author is a welcome change. Not for everyone, perhaps. But how much fun would that be?

SPOILER Territory Ahead. Proceed With Caution...

Wow. I can't say for certain, but I suspect that the final paragraphs make romance-novel history. I'm being careful not to give anything away here, so forgive me if I make it sound like there's a huge shock at the end. That isn't the case. It's simply true-to-life. A serving of reality on the banquet table of happily-ever-after.

I'm always grateful when an author trusts her readers that way.

P.S. Speaking of banquets, watch for the "peach crumble" scene. Byron can serve dessert at my house anytime.