“I hold his anxious, burning gaze for a moment, or maybe it's forever”

As 2012 dawdles to a close there appears to be no better time to culturally evaluate the changing fortunes of romance fiction. Over at Publishers Weekly Julie Naughton has assessed the evolution of theme, form and sparring partner in an article entitled Anything Goes, and this works out suitably, because there appears to be no better time to culturally evaluate the changing fortunes of romance fiction and without the dedicated research of a journalist Bewildered Heart would have no idea what any of those words mean. The growing success of digital imprints has seen Mills & Boon and Avon greedily pursue this online opportunity, and this means a more open and progressive attitude towards sexuality, monogamy, polyamory and any number of group activities. Fifty Shades may receive a bounty of credit, yet companies such as Ellora's Cave have been selling bondage and sadomasochism since 2001 and romances featuring gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender characters since 2007. Plans are presumably underway to combine the two next year. Meanwhile, ten per cent of novels published by Carina Press involve relationships other than the heterosexual pairings Harlequin Mills & Boon exclusively insist upon.

Is this a significant move on the part of the industry, a broadening of audience minds or simply a loosening of the classic definition of romance fiction? '“GLBT romance, including male/male and ménage stories, continues to become more popular as our society begins to embrace the idea that love is love and that a good romance story isn’t bound by gender,” explains Lorna Hinson of e-publisher Torquere Press. While this may be the case there is little evidence to suggest those reading traditional romances are becoming tired of the demure virgin meets arrogant billionaire and marries him formula. After all, this year's most popular novel could be summarised by the previous sentence. The author of Melting Ice, Nicole Austin, takes a different approach. “For many readers, being the center of a ménage is the ultimate fantasy. For those who have stressful, demanding careers, the idea of giving up control in the bedroom to a dominant partner is a little slice of heaven. Others may long for a same-sex encounter.” Has the market caught up with their readers, have the readers softened in their attitudes or is Austin trying to sell something? One positive to come from all this perversity is a genuine attempt to create rounded and believable gay and bisexual characters, far removed from the tired and offensive stereotypes of before. Surely the straight characters will be soon to follow suit.

Another phenomenon of romance literature has been the startling success of BDSM, but this is something of a misnomer. As Amy Pierpoint points out, “Romance readers have been devouring erotica for over a decade, but since these books were predominantly bought in e-book format, the sales weren’t reported through traditional sales channels.” Despite this, the surge in popularity is worth noting, albeit belatedly. After all, no such novel had broken through into the mainstream quite like those by E.L. James and now a new audience has demanded more. The reasons for this are unclear, but the ramifications could become serious. Next year will see the release of two interpretations of Jane Eyre, which will wonder out loud how Charlotte Brontë might have written her tale had she been allowed to include brooding and obsessive sex scenes throughout. Part of this move exemplifies the sophisticated transition the subgenre has undertaken. Titles and covers have become more elusive, even if the prose and characters have not. “Previously, the erotic titles featured more explicit covers, whereas the new covers are more subtle and feature objects, artistic lighting, and bold text,” says Cindy Hwang, executive editor at Berkley. Nothing says sophistication quite like a clearly captioned, well-lit photograph of a thing. The cheesy superficiality has disappeared and with it the dated snobbery aimed at brightly-coloured pictures of body parts and weird fonts.

Just as with real life there is a downside to too much sex and no one knows this better than the readers and writers of romance fiction. As Kate Douglas suggests, “The minute you give up on story development just to make something sexy, you’ve quit writing romance and gone over the slippery slope into pornography.” Still, as Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart acknowledged there is no obvious way to define pornography without asking him directly. Fifty Shades of Grey appears to be pornographic in its content, with narrative conventions such as a first person narrator and a barely discernible plot to disassociate it from whatever literary porn might look like. Due to this those readers disgusted by euphemisms and characters incapable of chafing have sought solace in the far end of the romance spectrum. As much as a voracious appetite among readers for graphic sex has developed there is just as strong an audience for the old-fashioned kind of romance, where courting is respectful, love is many-splendored and baby-making is done under woollen sheets and behind closed doors.

For more on this we turn to Laurie Gold of Heroes and Heartbreakers. The alternative to explicit sex is labelled Sweet, just as chocolate is often the alternative to explicit sex. Therefore a new niche has been defined, falling somewhere between, 'Religious morals (and) lustful escapades.' Yet what exists between church and the bedroom? As it turns out there are plenty of things to do and see that aren't offensive. Thus PG-rated stories feature small-towns with distinct personalities of their own, larger casts of colourful secondary characters and a more realistic representation of everyday life. Amy Pierpoint, of the inappropriately named and spelled Hachette, insists these novels will, 'Offer the ultimate fantasy: finding faith, hope, and happily-ever-after in a local community.' The strongest criticism of sweet romances, known to Mills & Boon fans as Cherish, is that they lack the emotional intensity of the sexier stories, but slowly this false impression has been overcome. Gratuitous erotica is not immediately suggestive of compelling plot-lines and the less time the hero and heroine spend in bed the more time an author has for conventionally peripheral concerns such as characterisation, story, depth and theme.

'As one end of the romance spectrum blurs with erotica, the other blurs with women’s fiction,' suggests Gold, with this latest fusion placing an emphasis on plot twists, humour and a grounding in a deeper reality than sexual fantasy. Thus a new style has emerged, eerily-similar to numerous other styles that have been popular for centuries. The situation has become so financially-lucrative that Harlequin has created an entirely new imprint called Heartwarming. Senior Editor Victoria Curran explains, 'Because these romances are not aimed at an inspirational audience, they need to be exciting page-turners.' For as long as Mills & Boon has published romance fiction their product has been sold to female readers as a lifestyle choice with a clear identity. Their heroines are aspirational figures living a good life and achieving their dreams of eternal love, marriage and babies with an idealised partner. Next year's novels, as mentioned by Publishers Weekly, do not stray far from this formula and the addition of vampires, sadists, widows and art thieves are shallow subversions of the conformist approach. As 2013 draws near readers, authors, critics and bloggers can look forward to more sex, less sex, more of the same, less of the same, a new subgenre to cater for each and finally making that choice between inspiring or compelling.

“I like horses,” he said. “And for some reason, I like you, too”

Due to the incomprehensible and enduring success of Mills & Boon it was only a matter of time before other publishing houses took the opportunity to wade into the saturated romance fiction industry. Smaller presses specialise in the niche corners of the market Harlequin has failed to capitalise on, but few companies are seen as genuine competition. Finally, one has emerged and recently Avon Romance has attempted to branch into the digital realm. Founded in 1941, Avon did not publish romance until the 1970s, but they quickly became notorious through the work of Kathleen Woodiwiss and Rosemary Rogers whose sexually explicit, rip-roaring rape fantasies such as The Flame and the Flower and Sweet Savage Love are considered forerunners of the modern romance genre that feminists railed against, women bought by the million and men were largely unaware of. What better time for some brand expansion to remind those mildly cognizant that nothing has changed?

In 1999 Avon swapped owners, leaving one despicable newspaper magnet for another. Shortly thereafter News International moved other interests to a sister company and stream-lined Avon down to a single commodity, allowing them to concentrate solely on rivalling Mills & Boon. Although the business claims to be at the cutting edge of reading technology their website is only now accepting unsolicited manuscripts for Impulse, their online imprint. The eventual intention is to throw a new novel into the ether of the internet every week, but before that can happen they will need some people to do the necessary work. This, as you may have already guessed, is where you might come in. While print submissions tend to weigh in at a hefty eighty thousand words, fifty to sixty thousand is all that is expected for their digital e-books. 'We want you to be our next star,' Avon exclaim. Their titles are faintly ridiculous, their cover photographs are unintentionally hilarious, their authors are poorly paid and their subgenres are eerily familiar, but how does Avon match up to Mills & Boon when it comes to idiotic submission guides?

'Q) Do you think all the fun has gone out of romance novels?' Well, Avon, much has changed since you were relevant. Nowadays heroines consent to sexual intercourse, so it would depend on how you were defining fun. 'A) Sometimes we do, too!' Oh, we didn't realise that was rhetorical, but then who knew romance novels used to be enjoyable. Clearly Avon has a passion for reinvigorating this much-maligned genre, and Bewildered Heart cannot find fault with this aspiration. After all, love stories have been in something of a rut for the previous few centuries. Therefore, what do you want, Avon Romance, anything even remotely different from everyone else? 'Fabulously sexy heroes who let nothing get in the way of getting what they want—the heroine of course—and giving her everything she needs.' Grammatical errors aside, a dominate alpha male relentless in his pursuit of a willing sexual partner is hardly a ground-breaking way with which to inject vitality and fun back into writing. The only character more archetypal than a strong, successful and handsome hero would be, 'Heroines unafraid to take chances in life…and in love. She’s smart and she’s never afraid to stand up for herself.'

The generic nature of romance has seen it fall foul of tiresome monotony. There is little here to suggest Avon has grander ambitions than any other purveyor of the identical product. Gone have the daring, politically-incorrect plot-lines that made their name, replaced by an underwhelming blandness. Nevertheless, the casual lack of clarity used to describe the ideal protagonists might imply a willingness to indulge subversion from prospective writers. With hero and heroine supposedly covered, Avon move onto the next vital ingredient. 'You choose the setting, just make sure it’s utterly romantic! We want to be able to immerse ourselves in the wonderful world that you’ve created.' Unlike those other stuffy publishers who insist upon their own suitable location, Avon allows you, dear authors, to invent your very own candlelit restaurants over-looking the ocean. At long last freedom? Possibly, but how many utterly romantic settings are left now that Washington State has been monopolised by vampires and perverts?

One curious avenue that might set Avon apart is their calling for series. 'Readers always cry out for more when you’ve given them characters to believe in…so give us more and you’ll get our attention.' While this sounds meaningless, the suggestion is that success will lead to further opportunities for success, allowing sequels, spin-offs and potentially more things to come from an initial story that readers don't immediately lose interest in. If a novelist has an idea for a trilogy, or an endless family saga loosely based around the drunken ramblings of a ninety-year-old with a god complex then Avon might be the home for such a concept, unless a home is found at practically any other publisher because such an offer is hardly unique. All these perfunctory statements might appear appealing on computer screen, but what kinds of manuscripts induce enthusiasm in the hearts of the Avon editors? Anything whatsoever? 'Dark and dramatic? Bring it on! We all love to laugh, but we’re also interested in stories that explore the many twists and turns of true love.' With this benign sentence the guidelines conclude and no one is any the wiser. There is little to learn from the Avon Romance website besides the fact that Avon Romance exists. Aspiring authors should bear in mind that if Mills & Boon reject their novel then there are other places that might reject it as well.

“Darn him for making even sarcasm look sexy!”

Anyone with a rational mind might have surmised that the article on happy endings that concluded Chapter Three of Secrets Uncovered would have signalled the end of the advice-giving. Typically of the logical, however, their brains serve no purpose when working out what goes on in romance fiction. Unsurprisingly Mills & Boon have one more epiphany to share, and even less startlingly that final piece of wisdom concerns unpredictability. Such a concept is not traditionally applied to the genre. In fact, the exact opposite is considered a major selling point. After all, boy must meet girl and boy must be handsome and wealthy, while the girl must be demure, beautiful and a twenty-seven year old virgin who has never recovered emotionally from being abandoned by her father. At a given point the couple must cede to overwhelming carnal desire and indulge in spectacular, life-affirming sex. By the end of the novel they must have overcome their petty differences and unresolved paternal anxieties to marry and make countless babies. What could possibly be unforeseeable in this classic formula that hasn't worked yet and shows no signs of fixing itself?

'At Romance HQ unpredictability has become the buzzword of 2011 – we’re constantly discussing and promoting ways to ensure our authors are producing the most exciting stories possible.' As we near the end of whatever we are calling this year it is safe to assume that the current buzzword is sadomasochism, and that development certainly seems fitting. Nevertheless, there is no reason to think that unpredictability will fall out of fashion, after all predictability remains as vibrant and popular as it always has. Therefore the fact that it has taken Bewildered Heart over a year to read a short e-book should not make this weblog entry any less relevant. Thrusting aside preconceived notions that Mills & Boon is misguided, what can aspiring authors learn from this hastily thrown together afterthought of a tip devoid of inspiration and sentences worth cutting and pasting? 'Less successful submissions tend to share a common flaw - a reliance on the same tried-and-tested conflicts and themes (‘I’ll write a Greek hero and a marriage of convenience!’).' Followers of Bewildered Heart should brace themselves for the realisation that Secrets Uncovered might have confused unpredictability with originality, and it wouldn't be the first time. No matter though, because their statement remains as true as their continued dedication to not publishing any new books featuring Greek heroes and marriages of convenience, and both.

'For everyone who likes a definition, in Romance HQ-speak, an unpredictable story delivers a compelling happy-ever-after that takes the reader on an unanticipated, cliché-free and emotionally engaging journey.' This adorable explanation helps to illustrate that unpredictability can be defined by a synonym and two characteristics a reader would never associate with Mills & Boon. These qualities must be the original twists the publishers claim to be constantly on the search for. Yet no definition would be loveable without a series of antonyms that aren't particularly beneficial. 'We don't mean crazy plot twists, inconsistent behaviour or random genre mash-ups – it’s definitely not an excuse to replace conflict with crashing plot devices!' These are wise words indeed, as no amount of unconventional story-telling justifies incompetence. Still, it remains hypocritical of the purveyors of Paranormal, Medical™ and NASCAR to summarily dismiss random genre mash-ups. Who knows what else can be combined with a love story to expose new ways in which to view love, as we have seen with the addition of cupcakes, Spaniards and Washington State.

Despite the publisher's challenge we are no closer to understanding how to imbue romance fiction with unique revelations that will force readers from their comfortable chairs and hazy alcoholic stupors. What does Mills & Boon want? 'Don’t panic, we’re not asking for radical differences!' Phew, eh. After all, if we were brimming with creativity we wouldn't have chosen romance as our favoured genre. 'You’ve heard this before, and we’ll say it again – it’s all in the characters! The best way to create a strong conflict and story is by starting with two interesting, original characters with a compelling story to tell.' It is appropriate that even an essay on unpredictability will revert back to the same insight every how-to guide uses. These books begin and end with the hero and heroine. It would appear that once you have a one-of-a-kind Greek billionaire and a never-before-seen virginal orphan twenty-something caught up in an innovative version of a marriage of convenience your novel will tell itself, leaving you to work on the name and location changing that amounts to writing a follow-up.

For the redundancy of their article Mills & Boon is sensible to endlessly repeat their mantra. The unavoidable conclusion of Secrets Uncovered is that despite everything to the contrary there are no inventive ideas to revolutionise romance fiction and there doesn't need to be. Aspiring authors are best served simply telling their stories well. Through depth, humanity and honesty clichés can prove what made them such strong concepts in the first place, worthy of their endless recycling. Now Bewildered Heart has finished stripping Secrets Uncovered for parts there seems no more suitable time for a full evaluation, but there is little point. Much like romance novels themselves the e-book has a single idea bulked out with rambling padding. Even the single idea is a weak one, the straight-forward assertion that characters are everything. No words are wasted on sentence structure or how to infuriate your reader with a clumsy simile comparing the churning in the heroine's stomach to a sinking boat on a stormy ocean of concupiscence. Perhaps such skills come naturally. Before the inevitable panic does kicks in, there is one way to bring genuine originality to your novel. 'If you want to tackle a more controversial theme, go for it!' There you are. Not only the inspiration, but more importantly the permission.

Harlequin's quest for vitality has seen it attempt to escape its reputation for generic romances grandmothers read. Nowadays hip, young perverts are found buying Twilight and Fifty Shades by the wheelbarrow-load. Mills & Boon have struggled in vain to prosper from this audience, consistently thwarted by their own authors playing it safe. Of course, the aforementioned phenomena are about as ground-breaking as they are scandalous, but their sales reflect a change in reader mood. There may never have been a more suitable time for pertinence to be introduced into romance fiction. What are these contentious issues Secrets Uncovered talks of? Racism, ugliness, elitism, actual prostitution, the list of options seems endless and increasingly unlikely to ever be published. In September Harlequin Teen printed Speechless, a Hannah Harrington novel involving a vow of silence following a hate crime. She somehow finds love and learns any lessons Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak forgot to teach. Might Harlequin adults follow Harlequin teens in dealing with realistic social problems in a way that isn’t deeply offensive? Would such earnest examinations benefit from being interwoven into an idealised love story with a happy ending? Are there serious and divisive subjects connected to relationships worthy of exploration and later a possible mention on Romance Novels for Feminists? There appears to be only the one way to find out and a firm rejection from the improved, politically-conscious Mills & Boon would only serve to exemplify their hypocrisy, and that would prove just as satisfying as seeing a book on the shelf.

“Three heart-breaking, regret-filled, uneventful days”

Anyone who has ever visited the internet will have noticed that there sure is a lot of internet on there. Every possible taste is catered for, and as Bewildered Heart goes to show there are even websites that cater to the interests of nobody. The enduring popularity of romance fiction transcends fleeting phenomena such as technology, but Harlequin has been quick to capitalise on the evolving ways in which humans read, learn, socialise and share photographs. Authors communicate to readers with a satisfying immediacy and fans can unite to discuss, recommend and philosophise deeply their second favourite subject, after themselves. Within this presumably unprofitable cottage industry there are the odd dissenting voices and there are bloggers who are attempting to change the ways in which we assimilate the tropes of the genre. Romance Novels For Feminists argues that even advocates for equal rights can love Mills & Boon without betraying their values. Does Harlequin need to update their attitudes or should the public's perception of Harlequin get with the times? How can RNFF be more popular than Bewildered Heart? Are we really analysing sexism within romantic literature again, even after we effectively solved that whole issue months ago? None of those questions will be answered below.

The traditionally misguided notions of conventional wisdom and public opinion believe Mills & Boon's product is unhealthy, not only for the hackneyed prose and predictable plotting, but because the, 'Genre’s conventions may appear to grant women power, but in truth work to limit women’s power within patriarchy, and resist any messages that might teach women how to subvert its restrictions.' The very publisher offering books by women for women are the ones keeping women doomed to the perpetual subservience and unhappiness that men used to force upon them. However, there is, as there always is in a democracy, an opposing viewpoint. The critic Pamela Regis has suggested that, 'The romance novel is about women’s freedom... and popular because it conveys the pain, uplift, and joy that freedom brings.' Yet presumably readers cannot have it both ways, and Romance Fiction For Feminists points out both arguments are based on sweeping generalisations. The genre is too vast and too categorised for one-fits-all statements. Mills & Boon is slowly developing and with them their heroines are becoming more independent and successful by the novel. The frightfully sexist Doctors and Nurses imprint became Medical™ and perhaps most tellingly of all Harlequin added a new subgenre to its roster, Feminist, where heroines proudly choose to die alone, sarcastic, bitter and without make-up on.

'The romance novel’s central conflict is a struggle between two individuals intent on negotiating how power will be divided and/or shared between them.' While this isn't nearly as romantic a description as it could have been, a Mills & Boon is a deliriously-heightened version of the recognisable politics within any relationship. The compromises, agreements, personality clashes and emotional arcs depend upon credible and honest portrayals of this journey. Romances therefore reach their happy ending through various means. Typically authors favour, 'Feminine submission to a dominant man; while others explicitly reject such submissiveness while implicitly endorsing it.' Occasionally, and with a knowing wink to empowered women, there are many that, 'Marry action and ideology, presenting protagonists who share power equally.' Thus the genre serves a multitude of purposes. 'By comparing and contrasting what a successful negotiation of power in a romantic relationship looks like a discerning feminist reader can learn about equitable models, and the tricks our culture uses to convince women to accept inequitable ones.' Without realising it or intentionally pursuing any objective other than profit and glazed stares into middle distance Harlequin have contributed to feminist theory, albeit much in the same way as the guests on Jerry Springer have benefited cognitive linguistics.

'Traditionally, romance has been characterized by a strict heteronormativity.' What scholars dub heteronormativity we call a happy ending. As previously discussed the eternal union of a beautiful woman to a handsome man at the story's conclusion is the defining trait of romance. Nevertheless, monogamy is no more anti-feminist than a loyal and sensitive billionaire made of chocolate is. Psychologists have demonstrated that women read romance novels to reinvigorate their love lives and reaffirm their commitments to partners, and only the most cynical of feminists would imply that this process masks deep-seated repentance and a genuine desire to escape quiet lives and desperate marriages. Thus we move on to chief among the criticisms of the genre, the predictable repetition, and, on a related note, the sex scenes. Mills & Boon plays upon the reassurance of familiarity, but does the focus on the initial courtship offer a false model, that a couple's problems are over once they declare their undying love and does this, 'Deny the necessity of the constant dance of love, hurt, anger, and forgiveness that make up the day-to-day workings of most real-life relationships?'

Romance Novels For Feminists disagrees, 'If you read romances on a regular basis, you actually find an echo of the relationship work you have to slog through. Repetitively encountering the pattern through reading of many romance novels heartens the work of enduring the same repetition in day-to-day life.' This sounds suspiciously like the self-justifying defence of a guilty pleasure and the writer acknowledges the shaky footing under which this statement was constructed. Why have Mills & Boon not published any stories involving married characters going to therapy, or openly arguing during terse dinner parties at the homes of wealthier, more contented, couples? Such idealistic notions of love and the firm refusal of reality are more widely political than the restriction of women to chains of bondage. Equally the desired and popular fantasies Harlequin sell require an indifference towards logic, so why can't a feminist reader choose the occasional romance without needing to rationalise their behaviour, in the same way intellectuals might accidentally enjoy the cinematic offerings of Michael Bay?

Finally, there is the endlessly problematic view that such novels are pornography for women, as opposed to pornography, which is pornography for men. 'This label suggests that women in particular should be ashamed about being interested in, and reading about, sex. As a feminist, I take exception to such a belief.' Who wouldn't, but then pornography is subjectively characterised, albeit most often with negative connotations. Romance Fiction For Feminists goes into greater detail on this idea in later posts, even daring to chastise the industry for not being progressive enough to elicit rebellion. Author Ann Snitow views sexually explicit prose hopefully, due to her insistence that, 'Good sex for women requires an emotional and social context that can free them from restraint.' Unfortunately romantic heroines tend to wait for their emotionally wary heroes, shedding sexual aggression and spontaneity for the more desirable passivity and innocence. Seen in this way even the sex scenes in romance fiction are part of patriarchal oppression. Nevertheless, 'If pornography is defined as sexually-related subject matter that sexually stimulates its reader/viewer, then calling romance novels “pornography for women” is no insult in this feminist’s book,' the blog post concludes. By the sounds of it the feminist's book she speaks of is shamelessly disgraceful.

“He ran through air thick as quicksand, each move bogged down by guilt and regret”

The numerous obsessive Bewildered Hearts out there may recall an awkward encounter this weblog suffered through thanks to a Mills & Boon Desire 2-in-1. Here the benevolent publishers offered twice the romance, making The Millionaire's Indecent Proposal and Under the Millionaire's Influence the bread in an unappetising sandwich that had no filling. Never one to give up on a failed metaphor Mills & Boon has continued with this tradition and now Bewildered Heart has a new double novel to contend with, only this time there are two Special Moments for the price of two. Previously remembered as Romance Romance, and now known as Cherish, Special Moments is an imprint that specialises in fanciful fantasies and lightweight comedies, distinctly separated from the gritty realism of Modern, the sweaty sensuality of Spice and the ethnicity of Spanish. With no discernible qualities besides in what they are lacking therefore, Special Moments pushes the absurdity of romance fiction to the forefront, leaving readers in no doubt that Cherish authors live in a delusionally blissful state, writing novels such as Once Upon a Wedding and Accidental Princess.

For the time being we will focus our attention on the former, a 2009 effort by Stacy Connelly. While the title implies gruelling disappointment Once Upon a Wedding also suggests fairytale nuptials, and after the opening three chapters the reader will have had their worst fears confirmed. Life hasn't been kind to Kelsey Wilson. Despite her thriving business, winning personality, stunning good looks and impressive breasts Kelsey has had her fair share of misfortune. First there was something to do with her father the narrative rather glossed over, and then her dear and feisty mother picked one fight, with cancer, that she couldn't win. Presumably orphaned and frightfully working class Kelsey was taken in by her Aunt and Uncle, the billionaire Wilson's of the legendary Wilson Family. Kelsey grew up in the shadow of her beautiful blonde cousins, Emily and Aileen, and as a result of not seeing any sunlight has grown into a literal pale imitation. Now a somewhat struggling wedding planner she has her biggest, and possibly first, event to coordinate, the marriage of Emily Wilson and Todd Dunworthy, of the resplendent Dunworthy clan. With ten days before the ceremony a rather large and attractive spanner is through into the works. The bride and groom only went and invited Emily's ex-boyfriend, Connor McClane, to the wedding and now he has arrived, spanner wedged uncomfortably into his trousers and with every intention of halting the couple's happiness and Kelsey's gainful employment.

Thus Once Upon a Wedding's heroine has a new job to add to that of everything else, she must stop Connor from whatever he is doing, but what is Connor doing? Connor McClane has a good life. He lives somewhere and works as the world's sexiest private detective. Sunglasses look tremendous on his face and even one of his lazy half-smiles is enough to reduce the female population to giddy puddles of excitement. Sure, he's a rebel from the wrong sides of the tracks and yeah, he was never good enough for Emily's uptight parents and big deal, he was responsible for an innocent woman getting murdered a couple of weeks ago and so what, he's an insensitive, paranoid jerk who gave up love for a big cheque, but Connor McClane has changed and now only three of those things are true. A month ago Connor had dinner in San Diego with Todd and Emily, and his tingly Private Detective senses went into overload. Something about Todd's smug wealth and handsome face and penis in Emily rubbed Connor the wrong way. Since then he has been hellbent on proving the groom is unsuitable for Emily and his exhaustive and expensive investigation has brought him absolutely no evidence. Yet Connor does not need evidence when he has a hunch and a history of fatally misjudging people. While readers may jump to the conclusion that he still harbours feelings for Emily, Connor dispels such notions by immediately attempting to seduce Kelsey, even going so far as to stare at her breasts.

While Kelsey was living in lowly one-bedroom apartments with her mother, Emily was the society princess her parents always planned for her to be. However, Emily had very different ideas, ideas borrowed from too many hackneyed Hollywood movies to recount. Aged eighteen she fell for Connor, a bad boy on a motorcycle and their doomed love affair fizzled briefly before Mr. Wilson paid Connor to break up with Emily and leave town. Nothing would have given Connor greater satisfaction than throwing the money back in the old man's face, but unfortunately destiny conspired against such idealistic notions of youth, because even then Connor loved money and needed some for a business opportunity. However long it has been since then has passed, but Emily has not changed, and is still the easily-manipulated arm candy she has always been. For this reason Connor has returned, perhaps to stop a sham marriage, or maybe just needing more money from Mr. Wilson. Our supposedly down-to-earth heroine cannot resist Connor's wild conspiracy theories or impish grin, and as the third chapters ends the adventure to bring down Todd Dunworthy has begun, just as soon as Connor finishes having breakfast in his hotel room with Emily.

Unlike every Mills & Boon novel Once Upon a Wedding contains a superficial impression that money isn't necessarily attractive. Although Kelsey shows the archetypal disinterest in wealth that all romantic heroines pretend to have before they marry a billionaire, Connor arrives in town as the never-do-well troubled youth made good. He has expendable resources for his vendetta against Todd and for a fortnight's stay at a five-star hotel, but these plot contrivances are more likely erroneous missteps by Connelly rather than subtle references to Connor's status as the richest private eye Earth has ever known. Laying the alpha male's financial comfort aside, the novel retains many trademarks of traditional Mills & Boon shelf-filler. Kelsey is an unassuming beauty, disgusted by her womanly curves, porcelain skin, fiery hair and freckles. Fortunately for the book's genre, and her own self-confidence, Connor likes his proverbial cushions sparkling white, plumped up and with red trim. Of lesser importance perhaps, Kelsey prefers a man to be an assured, patient, idealised Adonis with nothing but compliments and commitment on his mind. Soon swept along by Connor's immaculate brilliance, of course, and it hardly seems to matter what she wants.

Little of significance takes place over the course of the initial sixty pages, with the author cramming in as much laboured back-story as possible. When the action does manage to briefly catch up with the present hero and heroine are found wistfully remembering how beautiful the other is, only to worry over how their instant infatuations cannot lead anywhere, because Connor and Emily used to date and Kelsey is supposed to be distracting him, not falling in love. Despite these persuasive reasons they are falling in love, they have no choice, yet what is there to suggest that this couple are meant to be together? Without discernible personalities to give depth to their journeys they only share a disdain for Charlene, Emily's social-climbing, conceited mother. Kelsey is a mess of panic and neuroses, but Stacy Connelly has simply contrived the creation of her hero to specifically love all of her heroine's flaws and anxieties. Thus by failing to flesh out a credible protagonist the surrounding world she relates to becomes stereotypical and emotionally-clichéd. There is no need to fret at this early stage though, as there is much plotting to unfold over the remaining one hundred and fifty pages. Villains will be unmasked, lives shall be saved, secrets will be revealed and at some point Kelsey and Connor will wed.

“Are you ready for all the happily-ever-after, love-of-a-lifetime, till-death-do-us-part stuff?”

As the predictably tedious wisdom of humans dictates all good things must come to an end. On a  related note all Mills & Boon novels must end as well, usually with some lip-locking and a few grand promises between two people standing somewhere expensive. Romance fiction is defined by its happy endings and there is no room for manoeuvre when it comes to the meaning of the word happy. Therefore every Harlequin book must conclude in the same manner, with the hero apologising for his previous errors in judgement and the heroine accepting his behaviour in exchange for money and babies. Authors are perceptively advised to finish writing at the most delirious and idealised moment of a relationship, the initial declaration of eternal love, while leaving the reader to ponder the implications and whether it all worked out for the best. Despite this seemingly straight-forward lack of ambiguity Secrets Uncovered closes out Chapter Three with a brief lesson in how to conjure up the most satisfying of happy endings, helpfully spelt out with five tips that are fairly obvious.

What say you, editors. 'Be Creative – We know that it's hard to avoid happily ever after clichés and there’s certainly nothing wrong with a fairytale wedding or a baby bump but think of what new twist or spin you can put on these tropes.' While it is good to know that all the creativity we haven't been using up until this point may finally be expended, how does one think of fresh spins on pregnancy and marriages, besides making them secret pregnancies and secret marriages? 'For example maybe your hero and heroine get their happy family by adopting or maybe your heroine is the one who proposes!' Those certainly are fresh spins on conventional tropes and are sure to delight your readership of old-fashioned traditionalists, but is this really the most ambitious subversions we can hope for, and would such things ever be accepted in idealised romance? Has the time come for assertive, modern women to buy their own engagement rings and out-source baby-making to those physically capable? What will become of our beloved commitment-phobic alpha males now such contemporary heroines have found a way to build a domestic life without needing a man's willingness, bended knee or sperm?

'Your ending should belong to your characters – Make sure that it grows organically out of who your characters are. As you write keep asking yourself what the characters want most in the world, why they want it, and what’s stopping them from achieving it.' While this piece of advice suggests authors must guide their archetypes to a contractually-obligated finale with a natural grace that belies the truth, every love story depends upon an allusion to destiny and complex ethereal forces that do not exist. Therefore with a hero and heroine so utterly hopeless without one another and barely able to function in their successful careers or contented home lives the inescapable choice of being together can be tailored organically because the characters are simply too shallow to think of alternative ideas. This somehow brings us on suitably to the next point where Secrets Uncovered explains how murder mysteries are basically romances, except a murder is replaced by a meet cute and a chase after the guilty party is largely retained. 'The solution, once revealed, must seem to have been inevitable,' as Raymond Chandler once said, or as Harlequin put it, 'No shock twists for the sake of it!'

Of course there have been no surprise revelations in romance since Jane Eyre found a wife in the attic and Cathy discovered that Heathcliff was a ghost. Nowadays handsome millionaires turn out to be gorgeous billionaires and sexy bellhops are unmasked as Mediterranean Princes, which is hardly as devastating or dramatic as Mills & Boon writers seem to think. With the narrative structure involving dual internal monologues through an omnipotent third person narrator there is little mystery to intrigue the reader. The recent trend has given the author an opportunity to play on tension between hero and heroine, but more often than not this is squandered, as hidden truths are never particularly disgraceful and everyone concerned is far too polite and desperate for love to cause a scene. Consider titles such as The Truth about the Tycoon, in which the heroine learned that the man she loved was not only someone else, but someone richer, more famous and with a slightly more credible back-story. The supposedly shocking finale of The Domino Effect piled incredulous disclosure upon contrived decision until the reader decided on a suitable place to stop and never thought of the book again.

'Tie up all loose ends – Make sure you keep track of even the smallest sub-plot aspect, and that you resolve them. For example you can’t have a secondary character go for a walk around the ground of your hero’s stately home and never come back!' Actually them never coming back would be a resolution as there is a certain finality to never, but Secrets Uncovered argues a compelling case. While practically every Harlequin novel fails to adhere to this most basic tenet of story-telling few aspiring authors should send a secondary character for a walk and then not at least mention in the epilogue that they were eaten by a bear. The final hint treads on similar territory and even manages to repeat many of the same words, 'Resolve the central conflict – Most importantly your hero and heroine must face up to and overcome their internal conflicts by the time you reach the climax of the story.' Failing to do this is what separates actual finales from abandoned novels. After all, if your characters have not dealt with their neuroses and married then the chances are your novel isn't finished yet.

At this point Secrets Uncovered moves on to whatever comes after endings, leaving us to ponder what we have learned. What would anyone have learned from reading this cobbled-together collection of clichés? Well, there is more to writing an ending than simply typing THE END and closing your laptop, just as there is more to writing a novel than simply typing the first fifty-five thousand words that spring to mind. While readers know what to expect from the climaxes of romance fiction the ending remains a strong selling point of a book, rivalled in importance only by the hero. When a couple kiss and commit to several months of idyllic sex followed by endless months of painful divorce proceedings this moment of certainty and hope is the culmination of all the novelist has been working towards, the final definitive statement on love and happiness. This creation of life-affirming optimism is the very reason millions read Mills & Boon books, and continue to read Mills & Boon books, even though on numerous previous occasions they have been disappointed or betrayed by an ending. Every new bundle of synonyms holds a promise of capturing these feelings, and for an aspiring author there is both an implied and contractual obligation to see hero and heroine achieve what they desire and deserve. Meanwhile, when the dastardly, cloying, second suitor disappears on a walk and is later found to have been eaten by a bear his fate, while surprising, must be seen to have been inevitable. That's a sign of quality writing.