I love to see a talented author play with a stereotype and make it work. In her upcoming release, Love Overdue, Pamela Morsi does this not once but three times. First, the unlikely heroine of her latest romance novel is one Dorothy Jarrod who is remarkably close to the image of the prim, introverted, sexually anxious librarian that researchers in the 1990s found to be the predominant image of women in the profession. Second, D.J., as she is known, and the hero, Scott Sanderson, first met when they were college students looking to hookup on spring break. Of course, conventional wisdom says that college students on spring break are promiscuous young people who typically engage in risky, irresponsible behavior, but D.J. and Scott are just the opposite. Finally, D.J. and Scott are brought back together by his mother, whose matchmaking goes to great lengths. Matchmaking mamas conventionally push their children toward marriage because the mamas are eager to see their children settled and producing grandchildren for Grandma to enjoy, but Scott’s mother has a far more surprising and compelling reason.
D.J. is six years out of graduate school and still waiting for a shot at managing her own library when she is hired—without even an interview—as administrator of the “tiny but thriving” public library in Verdant, Kansas. Morsi describes the pairing of library and librarian “as unlikely a scenario as a tornado trip to the Land of Oz.” Nevertheless, this Dorothy and her small, black terrier, whose name is not Toto but Melvil Dewey, Jr., familiarly known as Dew, set out on their journey with eagerness. D.J. hopes they will find in Verdant a home, “a place D.J. had been searching for her whole life.” D.J. believes that Verdant, like most small towns, is looking for a librarian who is “sedate, slightly stuffy, and incredibly sexless.” Dressed in gray with practical shoes, eyeglasses, and tamed hair, she is doing her best to fit that image and is not at all uncomfortable in the role:
“D.J. had found circumspection and reticence could be very comforting lifestyle choices.”
With a sentence like that in the first chapter, the reader just knows that somewhere in her journey D.J. is going to exhibit audacity and openness.
The reader soon learns that there is just a moment in D.J.’s past. Just as she was turning twenty-one, D.J. and some of her friends spent their spring break at a Texas resort, South Padre Island. D.J.’s birthday plans include taking a break not just from classes but from the buttoned-up person she is. She plans to become a “crazy, sexy, wild woman. A woman who sleeps with strangers.” The stranger she sleeps with is Scott Sanderson who, like D.J., is anything but wild and liberated. His mother describes him as “steady and responsible since the day he was born,” and his sexual experience is limited to a few unmemorable episodes with the woman who has been his girlfriend since high school. Scott thinks there has to be more to sex than he has found so far, and he hopes to find it on South Padre Island. D.J. and Scott meet and share an unforgettable night that is romantic and sexy and everything they are both looking for. But when D.J. awakens the next morning to find a stranger asleep beside her, wearing her red lace panties “like an armband on his right bicep,” she is embarrassed and remorseful. She runs away, determined to embrace her conservative self and never to repeat her spring break experience.
D.J. is understandably horrified when she discovers that the woman responsible for hiring her, the woman who has offered her an apartment in her home, is the mother of that stranger from her spring break experience. She is terrified he will remember her and angry when he doesn’t recognize her.
Scott thinks D.J. looks vaguely familiar, but he can’t understand why she clearly dislikes him on sight. As for Scott’s mother, she picked D.J. for her son. She even hired a private investigator to be sure D.J. was the right woman for him. She’s not about to let a little thing like the reluctance of the parties involved keep her from making the match that will see her son happily settled and free her to go on with the plan she has for her life. Her machinations leave other fictional matchmaking mothers in the shade.
Added to these twists are D.J.’s library colleagues, Morsi’s version of famous characters from Oz: the Scarecrow, a likeable ditz whose greatest achievement is her four years as a cheerleader; the Cowardly Lion, an “odd duck” who is so frightened by people that he hides in the stacks; the Tin Man, a vet suffering from PTSD who has lost his heart for living; and the wicked witch whose body language D.J. interprets as “saying something like “I’ll get you, my pretty, And your little dog too”—all of whom get what they deserve.
Dorothy finds not only a home, but also a hero and an HEA (albeit one some romance readers may see as missing a chapter). Love Overdue allows Morsi to rifle through the box of romance stereotypes and come up with something fun and delightful.
from my First Look at Heroes and Heartbreakers