Okay, my bad. I should know better than to try to read romance fiction, but in the past I've stumbled -- obviously by lucky error or happy chance -- over novels that were quite readable. This isn't one of them. In fact, it's one of a very small handful of books I've abandoned because they are, frankly, too ridiculous to continue with. I'll give this one star, because Tess Mallory finished it Right To The End, and Dorchester / Love Spell (the publisher's name should have tipped me off: I must be getting slow) put a very nice over on it, which caught my eye.
Why would I pick it up? Because I'm watching Highlander on dvd right now, and I've caught the Duncan MacLeod bug ... tall, dark and handsome, swords, tartan and heather are about my speed right now, and this idiotic novel looked promising. It proves out the old adage: don't judge a book by its cover. In the case of Highland Fling, the cover is the only good thing about the novel. [Rolls eyes]
On page one, I knew I wasn't going to get what I wanted: we begin with the hero hiding under a bed, before he leaps astride his horse and does a runner. I beg your pardon? Persevered while the 'plot' leapfrogs backwards and sideways through time in disjointed, loosely connected passages that try one's patience before page 20. Stuck around long enough to choke down a hero named Griffin (which is not a Christian name in Scotland, and never has been), who calls his horse Firestorm (and that's wery, wery tacky indeed), and after all the leapfrogging around, we run smack into a present-day flashback to yesterday, where Mallory calls the main female character's lunch date 'Lord Bothingwort' --
'Bothingwort' isn't even a name. If you Google it (and I did!!), you will discover that this daffy novel is the only place in the entire WWW where this preposterous name appears. Anywhere. At any time. Mallory made it up. It's an American's -- Texan's! -- attempt to think of a name that sounds toff English; and to English (or Aussie) ears it sounds Blackadder-daft (except that Blackadder was an outrageous comedy, in which all this would have been for laughs). In fact, 'Bothingwort' is insulting to English readers. Mallory isn't trying to be funny: if Highland Fling were done as a laugh riot, it might have worked, but the author is trying to be serious ... and what angers me is, Dorchester actually published this adolescent drivel and in 2003 shipped it to commonwealth countries where (gasp!) readers could be expected to know what they were reading. Makes me mad enough to spit. Can you tell?
The way Mallory writes, I seriously doubt she's ever even been to Scotland. I doubt she's ever met an actual, genuine Scotsman. I know for a fact she's never met a physicist of any age group or gender ... no PhD. physicist who ever lived is a dizzy feather-head! The way Mallory writes men, I want to say that I doubt she's ever even been out with one, much less 'stayed in' with one, if you know what I mean; but she's married, so ... go figure. Whatever.
Book Abandoned. The equivalent of turning off a baaaad movie.
Better luck next time, AG, and for gawdsake, choose more carefully.
Recommended for: anyone who has a budgie cage they need to line, or a combustion heater to light … though, save the cover. It's pretty enough that it caught me, too.