LynneC’s review of The Crown Affair by Lucy King
Contemporary Romance published by Harlequin Presents 6 Sep 11
I loved Lucy King’s first book for Harlequin, and I gave it an A. So I picked this one up with high expectations. The characters in this one tip over the edge into TSTL and the sketchy research makes for a less-than-convincing background. This book is the story of two immature people who would rather flounce and pontificate after their lusting than discuss and be honest with themselves and each other.
The lusting at the beginning is embarrassing. It goes something like this:
“Oh look, a man with his shirt off – phwar.”
“Oh look, a sexy woman in revealing clothes – phwar.”
Do they get it on immediately? No. Because he’s a king avoiding the paparazzi and she’s an architect who is fascinated by his – manor house. At one point she gives a textbook description to “prove” she’s an architect. The thing is, I’ve never had an architectural lesson in my life, and I could have said the same thing by looking at the building, which by her description sounds a lot like Sulgrave Manor. When they finally get to the point, she won’t do it because he sits her on what she calls “a solid mahogany Regency breakfast table.” Finally she consents to do it on a sofa, which she whimsically says she will do as long as it’s flame-proof. By this point I had a toothache.
Anyway, he is super-conscious of the press and suchlike, which is why he is living alone in the manor house – and why he is chopping wood half naked. Yeah, right. Like they’d leave him alone for that? Like they wouldn’t find out where he is in ten minutes and be buzzing the place in helicopters? This man, already a million-trillion-dillionaire, has discovered he’s unexpectedly heir to a small European country, and the press is leaving him alone? The British press? The press that not only hacked the cell phones of celebrities but also, it is now alleged, the lawyers of the celebrities? No. Just no.
And she’s an architect with assertion problems who has just lost her job. She wants to get into restoration, which makes me wonder why she didn’t do a restoration course (most of those take seven years to get the qualification) instead of architecture. So she’s confused, ditzy, and she wants to build your house. No.
They meet, and he takes her to his house and lets her wander around on her own. On the basis of a paragraph that she could have learned by heart from a guidebook. This man is so security conscious he should be locked up for his own safety. But they get together, and, sigh, have bit of afternoon delight. At this point, the lusting is really getting on my nerves, and I want them to get together and get it over with. Because I can’t stand any more blocks of text describing how sexy they are in such clichéd terms that, although I’m sure this book is new to me, I keep checking the publication date to see if I could have possibly read it before somewhere. And it’s “standard” lust, the kind that isn’t specific. Hot man plus sexy woman equals sexy time. The characters never come to life, and, although I’m told repeatedly what they are and who they are, I never see it from their actions or their thoughts.
Here’s a sample:
He ran his gaze over her and her body burned in the wake of its trail. Her breasts swelled. Her nipples hardened and molten heat pooled between her legs. Desire whipped through her and she had to fight not to tremble.
See what I mean? It’s a lot easier to give an example. Hardened nipples, molten heat, ho hum. Very few authors are immune to doing this, but when all the descriptions are like this, it starts to get a bit stale. Lucy King seems to have read a lot of erotic romance from about five years ago.
Throughout there are chick-lit phrases that I really don’t enjoy, because there are so many of them. “uber-fashionable,” “uh-oh,” and more and more, so that the book is overweighted by them. It makes Laura sound very immature, and I’d begun to think that maybe she shouldn’t be allowed out on her own. I’m also irritated by the plethora of one-sentence paragraphs. Very mannered and noticeable, when I’d rather have been reading a smooth-flowing story.
The second part of the story is when Laura applies for a job in Matt’s new principality for restoring the palace. Again, no. For a job as huge as the one described, a team of tried and true restorers, with expertise in various disciplines, would be employed, not a young person without a team who had lost her previous job. It just wouldn’t happen. Neither would it happen that someone as newsworthy as Matt would have escaped Laura’s attention. Are we to believe that she decided that the house she was so passionate about at the start of the story didn’t matter? She didn’t research the owner, the man she’d just had sex with? She didn’t see his face or hear an account of him on the news? Like I said, she shouldn’t be allowed out on her own.
But – someone who enjoys a lighter tone, someone who misses chick-lit, who likes the Bridget Jones style voice of the heroine and the uber-sexiness of the hero is going to love this. I fully expect to see some reviews where the readers adored it. But I’m afraid the book isn’t for me and I found it a struggle. The plot holes and unbelievability, plus the immaturity of the characters and the author’s jagged style, combined to make this book a struggle for me to read.
Grade: D-
Summary:
Close encounters of the royal kind
After being made redundant and finding her boyfriend in bed with another woman, Laura decides it’s time to take charge of her life. However, the last thing she expects is for the new Laura to end up having wild, naked fun with the gorgeous guy next door…
She virtually runs away afterward in shame— but so what? She soon gets a new job, on the Mediterranean island of Sassania, no less! But the island has a new king—aka Laura’s guy next door! Now they’re both in trouble, for King Matt should be focusing on affairs of the state, not on reigniting a hot affair of his own…
Read an excerpt.
