“He didn't have much choice with her tugging at him the way she was”

For all our talk of Mills & Boon, and this weblog does seem unhealthily devoted to Mills & Boon, there are numerous other ways to see your romance novel published. There will be a time when Bewildered Heart turns its attention to the likes of Josephine Cox, Nora Roberts and Daphne Something, and when we've lost all hope and turned viciously on ourselves you, gentle reader, shall be the first to know. Until then, and as a break from all this Cherish nonsense, let us gaze upon a novel so different from our standard fare that only the name of the publishers offers any semblance of change – Harlequin Presents a Special Edition Harlequin Silhouette, Special Edition.

When Mills & Boon failed to tap the potential of the United States and their many women Simon & Schuster sought to fill that gap, and they called their romance imprint Silhouette. As we've previously established, Harlequin, owned by Torstar, bought Mills & Boon and Silhouette a few years later rendering the whole sordid affair even more trivial than you might have thought. However, before Harlequin changed the banners and confused us more than we would appreciate having to acknowledge Silhouette worked from the same office as Mills & Boon, published the same sort of books with the same sort of titles and same colour covers with the same photographs of couples canoodling, but under a changed tagline of, “For every kind of woman. For every kind of mood.” Hah, that's a lie, isn't it, Harlequin?

In 2005 Allison Leigh wrote The Truth About the Tycoon, and through a twist of coincidence Bewildered Heart found a copy and decided to save itself a trip to the library. Any illusions, or wishful thinkings, that Silhouette might offer a slightly improved approach to romance writing than Mills & Boon were immediately shattered by the blurb, where the reader is introduced to the two leads, a worldly billionaire hiding a devastating secret and a virginal small-town girl named Hadley Golightly. Having read the first three chapters our understanding of what we have in store has worsened to Mills & Boon Modern Romance levels of despair.

Don't take our word for it, however. Allow Bewildered Heart to explain in typically gratuitous detail. Hadley is twenty-seven, loves her life in Montana, runs an infrequently boarded boardinghouse, enjoys baking baked goods and concocting soup. She has never slept with a man and has two brothers and a sister who are always bothering her about her non-existent love life. Oh, Hadley. You're a creature of rare disposition. But look, for there is less to this pretty woman than jumps from the page. She is also tragically shy and easily-frightened, her voice barely audible and her self-esteem a very attractive low.

Meanwhile, our heroic hunk of wealthy masculinity has everything one might expect from such a character, including the name Dane Rutherford. He's curt, arrogant, mind-bogglingly gorgeous, enigmatic and well-travelled. He has two facial scars to reveal his raw manliness and capability of taming, but small scars only a woman gazing very closely would notice. Hadley and Dane meet at the scene of a car crash, shortly after Hadley and Dane's vehicles crash into one another. Hadley comes through without a scrape, but Dane's classic sports car is totalled and he is bleeding from the head. No sooner have they made poor first impressions of themselves has Hadley's brother, the Sheriff, arrived and arrested Dane for driving without a license. Why doesn't Dane have a driving license? Well, he does, it is in his bag, but Dane is concealing a potentially dramatic secret. His name is, in fact, Dane Rutherford, of Rutherford Industries, the biggest corporation in the world of The Truth About the Tycoon.

For Hadley, her brother and the quaint town of Lucius, Dane is the unassuming Atwood Tolliver. In Hadley's naïve and adoring eyes Wood is just an incredibly attractive sports car enthusiast on vacation in chilly Montana, when in fact he is Dane Rutherford, an incredibly attractive billionaire come to town with murder on his mind. Oh yeah! The plot congeals. Hadley is delighted that the pleasant and helpful Wood has decided to stay at her boardinghouse. It allows her the opportunity to test her skills at driving men away and hating herself for having driven a man away. Despite her tuneless mating calls, Dane cannot afford the distraction of romance. Years ago his sister was kidnapped and tormented by the evil Alan Michaels, and his release from prison has caused Dane's father, Roth, to have a heart attack. Therefore only one course of action is open to the son, head to Lucius and begin an unconvincing romance with the local twenty-seven year old virgin.

By the end of the third chapter so much has been established despite very little happening, besides the inciting car wreck and a smattering of meals. Allison Leigh has bought us up to speed and introduced us to the hero and heroine. The lengthy explanations are rather needless though, as so far Dane and Hadley are identical to every pairing in the history of the genre. Yet despite the trappings of the form there are certain deviations that propel The Truth About the Tycoon into the almost palatable. Hadley is neurotic and socially-awkward, yet beautiful and unfailingly friendly. With her easy-going lifestyle, her simple outlook, her casual self-loathing and her upper class stalker there remains an element to her person that makes her relatable to the twenty-seven-year-old virgin whom dwells in all of us.

While the location of Lucius uses every cliché expected of rustic Americana the setting carries with it a predictable charm and the boardinghouse in particular is a novel twist, offering Leigh an opportunity to add an assortment of oddball characters which she manages to squander. This is not our first read of a romance in a small-town in the United States, of course. Finding Nick was set somewhere in Texas, Learning Curves took us into the heart of Arizona and The Dad Next Door played out in whichever state Squam Lake is in. The homespun values of these fictional, idealised locations are well juxtaposed by the demands of an harassed, ruthless billionaire passing through. Modern Romance seems to call for the fast-paced world of urbanity and professionalism. Cherish, and whatever The Truth About the Tycoon turns out to be, can optimise the lax attitude of country living. However, with every writer and reader aware of this obvious contrast one must be careful to avoid slipping into stereotype, fish-out-of-water shenanigans and scenes from Reese Witherspoon movies. While it is too late for Allison Leigh it is worth making a note of it here, for our sake.

This is not our first brush with crime and kidnap either. We all remember MacKenzie's Promise no matter how hard we try to erase it from our collective memory. However, unlike that deeply inappropriate mixture of child-suffering, murder and life-affirming sex, The Truth About the Tycoon suggests a route of the healing power of love. Will Dane find redemption from his dishonesty and homicidal intent through the disarming beauty and innocence of a good woman? In any other genre it would be too early to tell, but with Harlequin Presents a Special Edition Harlequin Silhouette, Special Edition we should avoid becoming too cynical too soon.

What may happen is that Alan Michaels will continue to be evil, and Dane will heroically save another child from the same fate of his sister, but through doing so will reveal his true identity and actual motivations to the increasingly smitten Hadley. At her discovery of his treachery and heroism she will turn away, hurt and shocked, stripped of her innocence and trust, only for Dane's sister to explain what was really going on before Dane returns to say something, or smile, or take his shirt off, leading Hadley to accept that she cannot convince her heart, or brain, otherwise, as she is already head over heels in love with this man, whatever his name is and whoever he turns out to be once he ends the charade of pretending to be a sports car enthusiast to cover his intentions of violent revenge. Hadley didn't even know he was a billionaire Rutherford, and that surely proves how pure her devotion is. At this point that looks the more likely course, but Bewildered Heart hopes for everyone's sanity it is the former. For now at least we have a reason to continue reading.

“Through a twist of fate they found a family – and each other!”

In our lengthy and occasionally irritating search for the perfect subgenre to write our love stories for we thought we had found an ideal match in the warm homeliness of Romance Romance, which also sometimes goes by the moniker Special Moments, or Tender Romance. What made Romance Romance different from all the other subgenres? Children, that's what. As we've established, the plots and characters are consistent across every Mills & Boon variety, but in Special Moments one of the leads usually has a child, suggesting the novel has greater emotional depth. Yes, we swooned, this is the category for us, this is the category that will accept us for what we really want to write. An open, sensitive and sweet-natured subgenre that will never hurt us, or lie to us, despite the nagging mystery of having so many changes of name.

'Everyone needs a daily pick me up from the pressures of life – job, family, relationships – women these days juggle so many things!' You don't need to tell us about it, promotional material. You just need to tell us what the daily pick-me-up is, because we find alcohol and denial just isn't working like it used to. 'Imagine a little luxury: some time out, just for you, a break from the pressures of everyday life. We offer this and more in our home and family category, which since September is published as Cherish.' The break on offer from the pressures of family and relationships is a book about family and relationships? What happened to a good old-fashioned box of metaphorical chocolates?

'Think of Cherish as a variety box of chocolates – each one is very different, but all contain satisfying author voices, a happy ending, a rush of feel-good emotion to give you a lift and leave you on a high!' Now you're talking. There's no filling quite like author voices, and no hard shell like the dilemmas of pregnancy from a one night stand with a Mediterranean Prince. But what if you don't look at the contents card and pick at random and wind up with a Hazelnut thing when you're allergic to hazelnuts and your cheeks swell up, or whatever the romance reading equivalent of that nightmare is?

'Are you a classic girl who loves a vanilla fudge smothered in milk chocolate? If you are…then there are stories in this series that deliver the same fix – 100% romance, like curling up with a favourite film, these heart warming stories will leave you on a romantic high!' You don't have to be a woman, or a chocolatier, to question to validity of that promise, but what happens to those who are not classic girls, or easily duped with expensive gifts? Perhaps you are a modern type with an apartment in the city and a job in the financial industry who lives a jet-set lifestyle and has no time for whatever vanilla fudge is supposed to represent.

'Are you a cosmo woman who likes a naughty liquor kick to their seriously dark chocolate? These vibrant, funny, entertaining and unexpected stories may make you laugh out loud or challenge your expectations.' Alcohol certainly tends to challenge expectations and serious dark chocolate is always hilarious, so this sounds like Bewildered Heart's kind of option, but it still feels as if Mills & Boon is safely covering every base without actually offering any clear indication of what one might expect from the Cherish shelf. So far heart-warming, classic, funny, modern and naughty have all been catered for. What's next? Is there a chocolate in that box that is guaranteed to make you cry?

'Are you a crier who loves a smooth caramel centre? If you’re a real softie, and love a heart wrenching romance that makes you go gooey inside, especially when a happy ending is guaranteed, we have the perfect story for you too!' Oh, Mills & Boon, you know us so well. Of course we'll end up eating the entire box and hating ourselves. There is no point maintaining this charade any longer. Just bring on the candy/literature. What was this sales pitch even supposed to be advertising? It hardly seems important now. The point is, don't promise chocolates unless you actually have chocolates.

As always with this publishing company their introductions amount to meaningless drivel, full of charming empty gestures, offering a life of happiness and affection filled with the kinds of emotions we dream of experiencing even though we know at the first sign of commitment Cherish will turn into Blaze! and call us names and expect us to read their books without needing to be seduced or made to feel special. We thought what we had was real, orange-covered subgenre. We were going to read Cherish forever. But you changed from the poorly-insinuated descriptions of the thing we presumed you were based on a handful of nebulous sentences of puff copy-writing we saw on a website. Now you're no better than those dishevelled Spice collections we glimpse in doorways downtown, their dust jackets barely concealing their contents.

We didn't mean for you to see that. Nevertheless, the enigma remains. As this is the case, and this is always the case, we are best served checking out the titles and synopses to understand what we can expect when we follow The Dad Next Door with the next adventure. Should we brace ourselves for more single parenting, domesticity and coy conversations in front of adorable children? Recent titles include: A Miracle for His Secret Son, Proud Rancher, Precious Bundle, Accidentally Pregnant!, Star-Crossed Sweethearts, Secret Prince, Instant Daddy, Cowgirl Makes Three, Expecting Royal Twins!, To Dance with a Prince, Nanny Next Door, The Baby Swap Miracle, The Doctor's Pregnant Bride?, The Texas Billionaire's Baby, and Wrong Groom, Right Bride.

If these books were chocolates eating more than one would be nauseating. But which should we begin with, they all sound so varied and unpalatable? How about we take a tentative taste of At Home in Stone Creek by Linda Lael Miller, but make sure not to swallow anything? 'Everyone in Ashley O’Ballivan’s life is marrying and starting families – except her. But what date can compare to Jack McCall, the man who broke her heart years ago? And now he’s mysteriously back. But he isn’t who she thinks he is. After a dangerous mission, security expert Jack McCall rents a room in Ashley’s bed-and-breakfast. For her sake, he must keep his distance. But his feelings for her are so powerful that only his heart remains off-limits. To protect her – from his enemies and himself – he has to leave, vowing to fight his way home to her and Stone Creek forever.'

First of all, that sounds like it could be published under Intrigue or Modern. Second of all, how can Jack leave and fight his way home at the same time? Sadly, we will never know because we won't be reading At Home in Stone Creek. Let's try a different one. A Baby for Mommy by Cathy Gillen Thacker? The title doesn't inspire confidence, but it has got our saliva on now, so... 'With a busy career and three kids to feed, single father Dan Kingsland needs help! Hiring a professional chef is such a perfect solution, Dan doesn’t notice the baby bump under Emily Stayton’s coat. Emily is finally getting what she wants – a baby – and going where she wants: home to the peach orchard her family used to own. But when Dan shares the joy of her baby’s first kick, he realises he’s falling for his very temporary employee. Can his love be the home that Emily’s been looking for?'

Yes? This sounds more like Cherish though. After all, there are three kids and the heroine is pregnant, making for a rare fat romantic lead. However, if Dan was say, a single, childless billionaire, and Emily was a single, non-pregnant, unemployed beauty then you'd have The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress with a few minor changes and the removal of implied blackmailed rape, which is probably for the best. The glaring obstacles for the couple in A Baby for Mommy are the same obstacles placed in front of Gavin and Alison in The Dad Next Door. Who got Emily pregnant and where did Dan hide his wife's body? Just kidding, of course. Dan sounds lovely. So our conclusion brings us back to our introduction, that what marks Cherish as unique is the involvement of offspring and the heightened tension their child's welfare brings to the romantic decisions of the single parent lead. When the conclusion resolves the issues brought up in the introduction you know you've written a good article. That's the first lesson you learn at article-writing school.

“Money was not the root of all evil, Daisy thought. It could be a huge blessing”

Shortly after finishing the task of reading The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress Bewildered Heart settled down with a handful of romantic movies, until the salty taste of Mills & Boon had been washed from our mouth and replaced with the salty taste of Hollywood. First there was Something's Gotta Give, an older person love story precursor to It's Complicated, and proof that Nancy Meyers takes her titles from overheard comments her teenage daughter makes. Her films, which include What Women Want and The Holiday, are not created for teenagers, of course, rendering the titles as infuriating as they would be if you were talking with someone who used them.

There are few truly fine romantic comedies made nowadays and Something's Gotta Give is not one of them. Neither is It's Complicated, but they do at least feature fifty-something actresses playing women regaining their sexual confidence despite losing their husbands to younger women. Being played by sexually alluring actresses doesn't hurt, mind, and having Keanu Reeves paid to pretend to be attracted to them is helpful as well. These, and the comfortably superior I Could Never Be Your Women, despite the inexplicable presence of Tracey Ullman as Mother Nature, have become a new branch on the withered romcom tree. It is unnecessary to differentiate between these and 'normal' love stories featuring people we want to see fall in love, but it is comforting to know that the likes of Diane Keaton, Michelle Pfeiffer and Meryl Streep are allowed to make terrible films as well, from time to time. We can't allow Katherine Heigl and Jennifer Aniston to dominate the market.

After Something's Gotta Give there was Prince of Persia: Sands of Time, one of those old-fashioned swashbuckler Hollywood epics that was neither old-fashioned nor epic. There was some light swashbuckling. Jake Gyllenhaal, it would seem, is our new dashing leading man, with beard, lank hair and penchant for grinning having murdered someone. He plays the titular prince, borrowed from the streets and adopted by the King to take pride of place alongside his half-brothers as heirs to the throne. Jake is too much of a daring, loveable scallywag for such regal duties, however, but must eventually learn responsibility through a series of bizarre scenes liberally stolen from other movies and involving a time travelling dagger which he uses to inadvertently kill everyone in the world. Walking across a desert bickering with a beautiful woman would be nothing without a beautiful woman to bicker and walk with, and therefore Jake is joined by a queen, the most beautiful woman in Persia nonetheless, for some bickering and occasional parkour. Mostly they argue over which of them has led a more sheltered existence of indulgence and luxury until they realise they both have and the screenwriters have forgotten the all-important element of audience empathy.

Audience empathy seems to be increasingly over-looked in terms of recognisable finances. Prince of Persia: Sands of Time has a devilishly attractive Prince as hero, Gemma Arterton-faced queen as pure-blooded heroine and a bearded villain with resentment over a lack of entitlement. It is hard not to feel a close bond with the dastardly evil-doer who just wants to prove his worth, all because a twist of fate gave his brother the kingdom and him nothing but a powerful brother. While our two leads are extremely pretty and have glorious skin despite the sandy, scorching conditions why are we expected to care for protagonists on the basis that they're beautiful, rich and spoilt? Something's Gotta Give has a billionaire and a millionaire falling in love, every scene played out to a backdrop of resplendent comfort and relaxed ease.

When Mills & Boon pairs a hero with a heroine for frolics and misunderstandings the man is invariably wealthy, his billionaire status demonstrated by the book's title. Appropriately, when one half of a couple is a billionaire the author is well-advised to cast the heroine as something of a pauper. Yet great lengths are taken to make sure the reader understands that their limited reserves are not a slight against their upstanding character. Usually with money comes arrogance and with a lack comes humility. The author strives hard to show her billionaire is a decent, valiant man who worked hard and deserves his fortune, even though money doesn't mean anything to him without a woman to spend it on. Equally, our struggling naïf worked just as hard for her lack of resources, but doesn't care for money or power, what with being a woman and all. If you have comfortable protagonists without financial problems you can have them concentrate fully on the troubles of falling in love, in-keeping with how we humans live, putting off relationships until we have secured our prosperity.

Typically though, the creator of such characters loses sight of what is necessary to make a romantic lead likeable and compelling. It is a given that any role in a Hollywood movie will be portrayed by an actor with looks that rival those of Patrick Dempsey, Kristen Bell or Josh Duhamel etc., because in a multi-million dollar movie even the ugly people are beautiful. Those wanting to watch the amorous adventures of the unattractive can head to family reunions. It may make the characters more difficult to empathise with, but it makes them easier to look at, which is clearly more important. Still, besides the superficial values of physicality, our protagonists tend to have glamorous careers in the fields of advertising, public relations or pharmaceutical sales, which all amount to the same thing, the perpetrating acts of evil on an unsuspecting populace. They are successful doing insufferable things for money and are dedicated to jobs they adore, they are beautiful and young with hair in only the right places and a bevy of loyal, witty friends who each appear to be played by hip stars of popular television shows. Looks and career barely scratch the surface of disposition, however, although it usually suffices for a screenwriter. What about cooing at babies at supermarkets or having a soft spot for stray dogs? You know, defining traits of an identity dedicated to work and self-improvement? Without these, there is little else to say about their personalities, so what humanises them to the extent that hateful, insecure viewers can find their feet-dragging and contrived clumsiness loveable for sometimes as much as one hundred and ten minutes?

Are they so vapid we feel intellectually superior to them and therefore delight in their quirky confusion? Clearly not, because if this were the case a happy ending would see the film climax with them trapped inside a refrigerator outside an abandoned gas station near the South Kaibab Trail, and there has yet to be a romantic comedy which resolves in such a fashion. No, their kiss and cuddle to a sunset backdrop suggests we wish only the best for them, so long as the best we can wish upon someone is a lasting union with Jennifer Garner or Ashton Kutcher. After all, the simple structure of the genre has not troubled audiences for many decades and shows no sign of causing any troubles today, so the formula is tested, true and an occasional quality example proves the enduring potency of screened romance. We come for the set-up and the guarantee of a happy ending, but the most important part of the equation remains. As with every story and every day of life we stay for the people involved.