Shannon C.’s review of Retreat by Mari Carr
Erotic romantic suspense eBook released by Ellora’s Cave 27 Nov 08

With smaller turnaround times between proposals and release dates, it’s possible for an e-published author to get a very good idea of what readers are buying and write books specifically to that market, whether that’s a market they’re any good at writing or have much interest in. It’s a logical thing to do, and if I were a published author, I’d definitely want to write books I knew would sell.  But the knowledge that a book will sell doesn’t guarantee the book will be good, and even if all the elements are there to be a bestseller, the book still has to engage the reader and bring something new to the table, which is not what happened with Mari Carr’s latest.

It feels like the kind of story that was written because both menage and BDSM stories are selling well at the moment. (I don’t know whether this is true, and I wouldn’t dare to presume to speak for the author.) Unfortunately, because this story does feel so much like something that was written for the guaranteed sale, it suffers. Devon has already reviewed this book, and if you are a fan of the author, you might want to read her thoughts instead of mine. Because this book, quite frankly, sucked.

The biggest problem I had with this book was that it should have been a lot darker, and it should have been a lot less superficial. The author thankfully doesn’t go into a lot of detail about the BDSM training that our protagonists, Jon and Night, go through, and she doesn’t use the cult to titillate. But she doesn’t really explain why it was traumatic beyond a superficial explanation. I really wanted to understand exactly why it was that these men in particular felt that they couldn’t be fulfilled sexually unless they shared women, other than that that is an erotic romance trope.

The BDSM aspects that were present weren’t very heavy. They could have been left out entirely, and it wouldn’t have made any difference to the plot. Which is a shame, because I would have respected the author more if she’d pushed the envelope and actually written, y’know, a BDSM story, full-bore, with all the props and bells and whistles. Instead, she writes enough for it to be considered a little kinky, and even during the scene where the boys try to scare the heroine, Carly, away from getting involved with the federal agency’s attempts to infiltrate said cult by showing her what “hardcore BDSM” is really like, all they really do is manhandle her a little roughly and make her call them master. I at least wanted to see more definite bondage, maybe some whips and chains. Alas, no. I mean, at least if they’d gone for more of the BDSM thing, I’d have believed the heroine really was a submissive at heart. Instead, the men back off and decide they can’t use Carly in that way. So, yeah, how exactly is that going to help when she infiltrates the cult?

The plot itself, aside from the BDSM cult aspects, was not only boring but seriously paint-by-numbers. Every plot development might as well have been advertised in blinking neon lights. At one point, I was sending incredulous emails, to a very patient friend of mine, in which I predicted every exciting twist. I was never, ever wrong.

Plus, what’s not boring and paint-by-numbers is patently ridiculous. A federal agency doesn’t have enough manpower to bring down a cult without the help of the sons of its leaders? You have got to be kidding me. They don’t have enough trained professional female agents and have to resort to sekretly submissive school secretaries to infiltrate the cult when it starts up again? Please. Tell me another one. Furthermore, lots of nameless victims of domestic violence being willing to put their lives in the hands of an obvious psychopath like Cassandra and overlooking the fact that she practically has “I am fucking crazy!” tattooed on her forehead? My credulity is strained to the point of pain here.

As for the characters, well, we have Carly, who is a school secretary and sekret submissive. If a woman like her truly exists outside of Romancelandia, I think she should be taken to someone’s lab for reprogramming. Carly is wholesome, despite her sekret submissiveness, and yet, she describes herself as not being like other girls. I’m not sure what that means in this context, exactly, but considering that the other female characters in this book are a psychopathic nutjob trying to pass her evil organization off as a shelter for victims of domestic abuse and the nameless women who are stupid enough to fall for it, I can believe that. Given the other women we see, Carly really is a beacon of intelligence and bravery… except, you know, when she’s TSTL, which happens a lot. Oh, and Carly talks like a woman about four times her age. (I don’t know when I’ve ever heard a woman under 50 actually refer to a group of men as “fellas”. And Carly does. A lot. So much so that it got to be somewhat distracting, because every time she did, I kept thinking, ‘Nobody talks like that!’)

Carly is well-nuanced in comparison to Jon and Night, though. Jon and Night both have potential for being unique characters, but they don’t quite reach it. The only things that differentiated the two of them were their hair color and the different ways in which they expressed the terrible emo darkness in their soul. In fact, they both express the fact that each has half of the other’s soul. WTF does that even mean? To me, it reads like the kind of shortcut where the author doesn’t need to make her characters actual, you know, individual people, so in the end I get the impression that Carly has ended up with two manbots instead of two men. Here again, I would have liked a bit of audacity.  These boys are really, really good friends, but they are as close as brothers. If the author had made them actual brothers, I would have rolled my eyes, but she doesn’t. If she’d made them hot for each other, I’d have liked them a little more, but she doesn’t.  So, again, she treads the safe middle ground of not offending anyone’s sensibilities.  And because I didn’t like any of these people, I felt distanced from them during the sex scenes, and was mostly bored.

Also, the characters routinely refer to their relationship as a ménage. I know this is such a little thing to nitpick about, but I hate when people in contemporary erotic romance do that. I am not an expert on polyamory, but I have friends who are involved in multiple-partner relationships. None of them have ever referred to said relationship as a ménage. A threesome, yes. I’ve even heard triad. But ménage? No. Just. Fucking. No.

I know there are other Duckies on the site who love them some Mari Carr. But this book, with its overly silly plot, its underwhelming characters, and the paint-by-numbers feel has convinced me she is not for me. I can’t even recommend this book for fans of the author. It’s that awful.

Grade: F

Summary:

Jon Walker and Night Thomas lived their childhood in a cult. They embraced the lifestyle, and it was there that they were trained as BDSM Masters. Only when the cult was infiltrated by undercover agent Reilly did the boys learn of the cult’s seedy underside, and help to destroy it.

Nearly fifteen years later, Jon’s job as a high school teacher — and his lust for the school’s gorgeous secretary, Carly — bring him close to the normal life he’s always craved. Just when that life is within his grasp, Reilly returns. An incarnation of the cult has resurfaced with Jon’s evil mother at the helm, and Reilly wants Jon and Night to go undercover to stop Cassandra Walker once and for all.

Shocked by his mother’s return and his BDSM past come back to haunt him, Jon is terrified of Carly discovering his dark secrets. Including the darkest of all — his complex relationship with Night, and his unrelenting urge to share Carly with his best friend.

Read an excerpt.