"He may be caviar, but I'm meat and potatoes"

The last time we heard from Lane Lincoln, his ex-wife, Cynthia James, and their precocious, obstinate daughter, Beth, they were planning a family Christmas together. Years of divorced parents had kept Beth from experiencing Christmas as the Pagans intended, celebrated together with every loved-one under a single roof in a room filled with clouds, wearing your finest smoking jacket and sipping non-alcoholic eggnog while a pheasant burns to death in the fireplace. Beth has never known a perfect Christmas and so her Dad has flown in from Hollywood to Oregon to visit his former in-laws and has, in turn, managed to fall back in love with the only woman he has ever loved and never stopped loving. Furthermore, Cynthia feels as if she and Lane have finally matured and grown reasonable enough to the point where reconciliation would make the greatest present of all. All that is left is a series of sickeningly twee portraits of domestic bliss and showcases of flaunting disposable income. This book is so nineteen-nineties.

Now you might have recognised, somewhat perceptively, that the only reason for the original divorce was the lack of an honest conversation. After all, if that were the case then Romantics Anonymous' central plot could surely be solved within three pages, a structural flaw we normally associate with modern Mills & Boon. Lauryn Chandler's book was written in 1993, a much simpler time. There are no ruthless billionaires demanding demure virgins relent to the most wicked of desires. No, Lane Lincoln is a devilishly attractive Hollywood big-shot who cares about his daughter and ex-wife above all else and wants nothing more than to remarry and live in Oregon with them. Cynthia, meanwhile, has problems that amount to her almost making for a compelling protagonist. Firstly, while her top priority remains herself, she also has a daughter to occasionally remember having had. Moreover, there's her boyfriend, Alan, the blissful wedded life of her sister, Gwen, the happy second marriage of her mother, Mother, and about a hundred other characters too meaningless and poorly-written to mention.

While much of this is immaterial, Cynthia's nagging emotional problems, stemming from a childhood rich in neuroses, seem to have hamstrung her to an adulthood of regret and bitter loneliness, despite all the characters who constantly bother her. When she was a mere kid she witnessed the final fight between her mother and father, Henry, who stormed out and was never heard from again. Naturally, she loved her father, but has never forgiven him for abandoning her. She grew into a young woman still tender from the hurt and unable to fully trust. This lack of belief in eternal love was only exacerbated by Lane running off to Hollywood without so much as a, 'I'm running off to Hollywood now, but once I establish myself as a famous screenwriter you can come and live with me in California because that is my plan and my leaving should not be misconstrued as an urge to live apart from my family, seek divorce and further damage you emotionally.'

Without such a note, or suitably-worded greeting card, Cynthia files for divorce and Lane, wrongly assuming his wife acts under her own free will and wants a divorce, signs the papers and officially ends the relationship. Romantics Anonymous picks up ten years later and then spends the majority of its storyline clumsily shoe-horning in this necessary exposition. Fortunately the time needed for flashbacks and interior monologues is found because nothing of importance takes place in the present. Lane and Cynthia soon find the groove within which they first fell in love and without any of the potentially interesting conflicts that might have made the story worthwhile. Furthermore, they have family, friends, colleagues and a daughter all pushing them along, making the rejoining of their union all the more inevitable, boring and anti-climatic.

Is there nothing to stand in their way? A farcical misunderstanding shortly after love-making? No? No love-making at all? Tsk! How about Alan, the potential husband-to-be, jilted and made a mockery of by Lane's unashamed flirting? No? He'll casually step aside like the spineless gentleman he appears to be? Tsk! How about the re-emergence of Henry, estranged Dad, back to put the proverbial cat among the proverbial pigeons with the cat representing dredged up memories and the pigeons perhaps representing a life in denial of those memories? No? He'll saunter back, easily make peace with everyone and be forgiven all for an even more sentimentally-saccharine finale? Tsk! What about Romantics Anonymous itself, the very institution Cynthia created to warn herself and others like her away from destructive romances built on idealistic notions of perfection? No? Apparently her entire philosophy is shattered with the return of her soul-mate, both under the illusion their future is suddenly solid, even though it is built upon the promises that neither could live up to the first time around? Not only that but Lane will make his grand gesture to win her heart at a Romantics Anonymous meeting, much like someone celebrating sobriety by bringing a case of champagne to A.A.? Tsk! indeed.

When the reader angrily throws the finished book at their cat they may wish to compare Romantics Anonymous to their own vague understanding of how story-telling should work. This, of course, is an mistake, because the novel, by Lauryn Chandler, should be only judged on its contextual merits. Within the perimeters of Mills & Boon Romance Romance, or Cherish as we have come to call it, the tale of Lane and Cynthia reuniting and all the other causes of their brief bouts of unhappiness inbetween the long periods of professional success, is a perfectly satisfactory entry to the genre. It is awkwardly contrived at times, the characters are simpering morons who never offer any reason for us, the reader, to warm to them and the displays of family affection are inane and unlikely enough to induce rage. For example, when Cynthia gets the sniffles, Beth and Lane throw an "I-Have-a-Cold-But-Would-Rather-Be-Out-Making-Snowmen-So-Somebody-Cheer-Me-Up Party" where they wrap toiletries in wrapping paper, eat graham crackers with frosting on and curl up on the bed to watch Miracle on 34th Street, Christmas in Connecticut and Swamp Thing. How utterly loathsome, the reader thinks, curled up in bed, crumbs everywhere.

After numerous episodes such as this we have tired of the whole rotten bunch of them and insist Cynthia hurry up and forgive her father and Lane for not finding her as adorable as she finds herself. Beth has a birthday and gets two puppies from her father. There is cake, showtunes, Mexican food, make-up, ice cream, root beer and the excess typical of the family, but once the fun is over Lane has jetted off to California, Beth is wherever she goes at night, and Cynthia is alone again with her happy memories and the bitterness they bring. Will Lane ever return, she asks herself. What did he mean when he said he would be back in a few days and once he got back they would get married? Why are men so obdurate and vague in their promises? Are there really three more chapters to go? Jeez. Sure enough though, Lane reappears just in time to stop Cynthia mentally combusting and drowning the state of Oregon in her madness. From that point on there are only the things that always happen in Harlequin stories left to read of, with a smattering of public indecency thrown in. Can Cynthia finally stop being so weird? What will happen to her novel, her philosophy and all those damaged people she seemed intent on helping? Hah! Who cares about that, right? She's married now. Maybe she'll have another kid. That's all women want anyway. The life lived and the commitments made before marriage are forgotten.

Even though Lauryn Chandler and the characters from her book show little respect for the idea of a support group for compulsive romantics that doesn't mean Bewildered Heart can't spend a little time examining the concept itself. Now, many addictive vices can be harmful, such as narcotics, chocolate, sex, exercise, but should we not throw love into the mix as well? After all, those who chase romance regardless of the solidity of the relationship on which it rests are doomed to a series of short flings, discarded once the passion and mystery have dissipated. They chase fleeting moments of exhilaration in a life of dull minutiae. There is more to love than romance, Cynthia might once have argued, and while magic is like caviar, sometimes one needs whatever meat and potatoes represents to keep them regular. However, in the case of this book a compulsive romantic is not someone compulsively seeking romance, but rather someone constantly wishing to create it, and such an endeavour should not be queried and it should not be stopped, unless fatigue sets in. What's wrong with romance? We spend our lives awaiting the warmth and preeminence it offers, but accept the best things in life are transient and the honeymoon stage of a relationship is naturally short-lived.

Therefore Mills & Boon, Hollywood, and at least one of your friends, is happy to trade on this tragic rationalisation for their advantage. We read book after book, and watch film after film, that deal with the first flush of love, reliving the glory, concentrating on the brightest spot and relegating the life either side into darkness. This is foolish thinking that causes despondency and only allows cynical writers to profit from our indulgence. When Bewildered Heart finds a Harlequin novel entitled Romantics Anonymous and opens the cover to discover it is the story of a support group for those addicted to romance we hope a few insights will be forthcoming. Such as, what is romance, why is it bad for you and why would someone need to wean themselves from it? What’s the treatment and what’s the alternative? Then we learn Cynthia is cured from her addiction to romance with more romance, much like an alcoholic finding a job that intoxication makes easier. But isn’t that like He’s Just Not That Into You, where the female characters realise the Dating Manuel that doubled as their screenplay is a bunch of made-up nonsense that only sometimes applies to life and should probably be ignored, thus rendering the validity of the rhetoric erroneous and the entire film worthless?

"We admit that the search for "true love" has brought chaos to our lives"

When faced with reading a Mills & Boon the reader may feel a powerful rush of emotions not unlike the reaction a heroine has to seeing her ideal man rise from the ocean in revealing swimming trunks and slowly descend over her quivering body laid wild and enticingly on a bed made of grapes. For fans of trite romance fiction a new novel is a gateway into a fantasy world of passion, intrigue and love. For readers who dislike romance fiction, of course, having another book land on their bedside desk and shimmer in the golden light of a low wattage energy-saving bulb conjures an apprehension more akin to seeing a dripping wet Adonis rise from the ocean in revealing swimming trunks and slowly approach as they attempt to read; jittery, self-conscious, fearing the worst and questioning their sexuality.

Having finished The Truth About the Tycoon happy in the knowledge that the truth had been that he was, in fact, a tycoon, Bewildered Heart yearned for something different and what is more different than a yellow cover? In all our many months of searching never have we seen a yellow cover and approximations of what snowflakes might look like if drawn by someone unaware of what a snowflake looks like. Yes, back in 1993 Harlequin and Mills & Boon showed elements of ambition in the marketing of their product. Before and during the wilderness years of titles such as In Bed With the Boss, Wife By Agreement and Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience (Last one coming to Bewildered Heart soon, mind) the Mills & Boon subgenre Enchanted published Romantics Anonymous by Lauryn Chandler.

Immediately the reader will sense something special about this offering. Overlooking the pale cover for a moment (which should be easy as there are no pictures on the internet of the Mills & Boon edition), one is struck by the purposeful capitalised title, the nonsensical tagline, 'Mistletoe: Magic!' and the painted picture of a couple. Before the staged soft-core photograph of attractive people canoodling on silk sheets while candles flicker seductively in the background Romantics Anonymous offers a drawing of a fairy-tale scene. An Italian lounge singer with receding hair rubs his thumb against the chin of a high society dame who holds a bouquet of flowers while what appears to be a pheasant blazes to death in the fireplace. There is a Christmas tree and there are greeting cards on the mantelpiece. Also, and perhaps most inexplicable of all, there is a fluffy cloud about to consume them all. Is the building on fire, or is this luxurious house actually in Heaven? One must read on to find out if any of these strange elements are incorporated into the story.

Cynthia James, Cyn to her friends (Hi, Cyn!), has written a thinly-veiled anti-romance novel recounting her disastrous marriage to her ex-husband, the big-shot Hollywood screenwriter Lane Lincoln. Cynthia has also founded a self-help group for women addicted to love, named Romantics Anonymous, which teaches a twelve-step programme for afflicted ladies to use when wishing to say goodbye to their filthy habit. But hang on, romance writer, what's so wrong with a little thing called love? According to Cyn and her novel, Love and Marriage and Other Tall Tales, chemistry can be easily created, lust is a hormonal fluctuation and sexual passion can't be trusted, whereas stability and honesty are the cornerstones to a successful partnership. She learned this the tough way, first from her charming, yet flighty, father whom she adored, but was abandoned by, and then by the charming, yet flighty, Lane, who wooed her at 1970s university. Thereafter they lived a nomadic life, travelling America in a Winnebago and having tremendous sex before Cynthia demanded they settle down and Lane's dreams became too large for his life.

Since then, Lane has followed his calling to become an insensitive jerk and writer of epic Hollywood love stories. Imagine his consternation, therefore, when he sees his ex-wife on a chat-show setting forth her principles and explaining that she looks back on her infatuation with him as laughable and a mistake. Damn it, Cynthia, indeed. If only there was some unlikely circumstance which might force the pair together so he could prove to her that sexual magnetism is a once-in-a-lifetime miracle and a relationship should be built around tremendous sex and not support of each other's complex neuroses formed by unresolved issues with their fathers. Besides the destructive causes of their divorce are no longer an obstacle, because Lane has settled down and made a life for himself in California, while Cynthia has stopped being a control freak with unrealistic expectations of others. Can love be rekindled, asks the author? Yes, we reply, because you've already mentioned on numerous occasions that the love between Lane and Cynthia still burns brightly. Gosh, if only there were some unlikely circumstance...

As it happens their twelve-year-old daughter, Beth, has flown across country, from wherever Oregon is to wherever California has got to, with an ultimatum. Cyn has followed, freshly returned from her publicity tour and desperately searching for her missing child. This brings the former couple face to face for the first time in ten years and how attractive those faces remain, despite the stress and the ravages of time. Beth is not finished at disappearing and boarding a plane alone, however. She has an imposition of her parents that they must grant her, otherwise she will begin drinking and having sex with boys. Beth wants her mother and father to reconcile for a traditional family Christmas. For unexplained reasons Lane and Cynthia agree to this request, suggesting Beth may grow up to be a real bitch. Still, what could possibly happen during these weeks between responsible and emotionally-mature adults? After all, Lane and Cynthia tell each other that they are in happy, committed relationships that they're not really in, but are only pretending to be in to make the other one jealous.

While Mills & Boon constantly promise their books will be fun, flirty and may have you laughing out loud we have not yet seen any evidence of such a prospect. However, Chandler's novel has an odd smattering of jokes and a possibly satirical edge that is destroyed within the opening three chapters. The Romantics Anonymous twist on the standard formula quickly sacrifices itself to the requirements of the structure and ends up only working as a clever gimmick to fool the likes of us into buying the book. While the idea of a romantic heroine who actively denounces romance is hardly original, to go a step further and invent a self-help group affords an opportunity for deeper dissection of the principle subject. Sadly, it quickly becomes apparent that neither Cynthia James nor Lauryn Chandler believe in their own rhetoric and any fun set to be had at the reader's expense is lost to a withering lack of credibility.

Still, a full examination of romance maybe a worthwhile endeavour and perhaps Romantics Anonymous will deliver an understanding of other intangible notions such as fidelity and marriage. Lane is a changed man, no longer a slave to his youthful fancies and idealistic dreams of true love and adventure. He is, therefore, an empty shell of the man he once was, and the pressures of conformity and responsibility have evolved him into suitable husband material. Perhaps over the course of the novel Cynthia's support can resurrect him back into the vital, daring force she formally fell in love with. There remains a good possibility, however, that she will slowly be drawn to his good looks and easy-going charm, all the time fighting herself not to fall back into bed with him, until she does and remembers just how wonderful their relationship was, only to then be thwarted by self-doubt, magician issues and concerns for Beth, before a soul-baring speech helps her realise Lane will not leave her this time, because hope and ambition have been slowly crushed out of him by life.

Chandler may argue that Cynthia is fine the way she is, but there remains inside the heroine an inability to experience impulsive joy. Therefore it is up to Lane to help her realise that a life without romance is a life not worth living. She should embrace her life and step out of her mind. Lane still has a thick head of hair, as only handsome men do, and Cynthia should enjoy it while she still can. Who says one cannot experience passion and peace at the same time, such as love-making in Switzerland? Are we really expected to choose between reason or romance? Isn't there room enough for both? After all, the Romantics Anonymous Programme stresses the utmost importance of logic and really, what is so logical about a fundamental separation of unrelated brain functions? Lane shall, of course, say these things with his shirt removed, having recently risen from the ocean and approached seductively, his torso glistening and bare, his tight swimming trunks overtly suggestive, meaning he might as well have said nothing for all we were able to comprehend.

“The sound of the lock being turned was as loud as a gunshot to his soul”

After three chapters of The Truth About the Tycoon, the 2005 Harlequin Silhouette novel by Allison Leigh, we were aware of many things that only make sense within the confines of the book. Billionaire business owner, American royalty and Rockefeller stand-in Dane Rutherford, of Clan Rutherford, was in the small town of Lucius, Montana to track down one Alan Michaels, the dastardly bastard who years before had kidnapped Darby Rutherford and held her hostage for four days on the roof of a warehouse. While Darby and the United States were able to move on, Dane continued to blame himself for his sister's trauma, while Alan Michaels continued to be completely insane.

When Michaels escapes from his low-security mental ward, for things such as this happen in The Truth About the Tycoon, Dane seizes his opportunity to track him down and deliver some billionaire-style personal justice. Plans go awry, however, when his car collides with the car of a pretty, wide-eyed brunette by the name of Hadley Golightly. By the time Dane has awoken and found himself covered in blood, with a headache and nasty wound, he realises that his car wasn't the only thing involved in a collision. For his heart, or fate, his destiny, you know, collided with the destiny of Hadley Golightly, and even though finding Alan Michaels remains his top priority, she quickly becomes all he can think of and his top priority. Yet who is this beguiling virgin who never met her own father and how does she fit into Allison Leigh's complex plotting?

Life hasn't been treating Hadley Golightly too kindly of late. Sure, she loves living in backwoods Montana, with her step-dad and half-siblings, but she longs to make it on her own, to create her own identity and become a celebrated writer of things no one is allowed to read. At the tender age of twenty-seven she remains hamstrung by her mother's legacy. Had, to her friends (Hi, Had!), runs her mother's boardinghouse and spends her days helping those in need and generally being a darling girl to everyone she meets. When all seems lost and there is no easy way for her to carve out a personality of her own a handsome, rich man rolls into town, solving all of her problems with his masculinity and sturdy torso. However, Dane wants to keep his Rutherford name and his motivations a secret, so he calls himself Wood Tolliver, the name of his business partner. Hadley's half-brother, Shane, is suspicious, but Hadley falls head over heels in love with Wood, the dashing hunk, leaving the discovery of his true identity and hatred of his deceit until the story's predictable conclusion.

The reader is well-advised to gloss over the next one hundred and fifty pages for nothing of consequence takes place. Hadley is briefly concerned with her new tenant, a pregnant lady who collapses whilst sleighing in the snow, but once she is whisked to hospital she is never mentioned or heard from again, allowing the reader to assume she can't have been important. Equally meaningless is Evie, Hadley's half-sister, and her marriage to Charlie, a drunk. Leigh uses this to further prove Dane's tough manliness with a series of deeply improbable bar fights with events culminating in a surprise party for Evie, where a few things occur that should have been edited out. Meanwhile, Dane's father, Roth, needs surgery to save his life and there is a maniac on the loose headed to Lucius for unspecified reasons. With several heavy burdens weighing on Dane's broad, masculine shoulders, he and Hadley decide this is the perfect time for the book's one and only momentous sex scene.

With Hadley's innocence hanging in the balance and Dane being a man who can ignore any danger when sex is available, the tumultuous love-making is inevitable, but good God does Leigh find a bizarrely-written way to deal with the lack of a condom that avoids any possibility of pregnancy. Perhaps the words, 'hot pleasure jetting over abdomen,' and the line, 'Gotta get a wash-cloth,' should suffice. However, this fails to mention that no wash-cloth is forthcoming and sleep is immediately undertaken. Needless to write, it was the first time Bewildered Heart had ever come across an incident like that in a Mills & Boon. Still, by now we should celebrate original sequences in our romance consumption and then try our best to forget they ever happened.

Shortly thereafter, Dane's world of arrogant indiscretions collapses when one of the characters bothers to check who he is. Does Shane the Sheriff finally get around to looking into the chap who arrived in town, crashed his car, shifted around mysteriously, got into a series of highly improbable bar fights and then slept with Shane's sister? How about anyone seeing Dane and recognising him as the most famous businessman in the world? No, it is left up to Hadley herself, to find Dane's driving license in his wallet, as she routed through it in search of a prophylactic. She is enraged and naked and tells Dane or Wood, whoever he is, to get out, to leave Lucius behind and never look back. He had taught her a valuable lesson, that moments before he had learned the opposite of from her. Some things are unforgivable and seducing a virgin using your true personality albeit it with a fake name is one of those unforgivable things. Somewhat at odds with Dane's new perspective that even kidnapping a young girl in front of a crowd of people and tormenting her for days before pretending to save her and becoming a national hero is forgivable when holding onto vengeance is stopping you from having sex with a beautiful woman.

Phew, eh? Next, Dane boards his private jet before a convenient call from a bounty hunter-turned-attractive-barmaid tells him that Alan Michaels is heading straight for Lucius, also finally explaining where his obsession with the town stems from. Clearly someone else has the same belated sleuthing skills as Hadley, because she has discovered that Michaels had a child with a woman whom we the reader know as Holly Golightly, but not that one, the one in the book, Hadley's mother. Oh no, Dane Rutherford, the woman you're in love with and can never see again because you repeatedly lied to her in order to trick into sleeping with you is in danger from the man who kidnapped your baby sister. At last! All the plot strands are being brought together, with the exception of those that Leigh has forgotten about. Quickly, Dane and Shane, back to the boardinghouse and step on it!

The excitement, if that is what it is, is short-lived, however. Michaels believes Hadley to be Holly, but so in love with her as he is he presents no greater physical threat than the shards of china on the floor from Hadley having dropped her coffee mug. Nevertheless, Dane's timing is impeccable and he saves the defenceless woman from being attacked by the irrational man, proving he does love Hadley no matter what his name is. Dane puts to rest his demons over the destruction Michaels wrought over his family and is ready to embrace the next stage of his life, quitting as Rutherford CEO, returning to death-defying custom racing and marrying a girl ten years his junior.

For Hadley the finale is equally rewarding and perfect. No longer is she the shy, penniless virgin she once was. Now her social problems are irrelevant for her husband has confidence to spare, her financial struggles are immaterial for her husband is a billionaire, and her virginity issue was sorted out by the same man in chapter eleven. Perhaps with everything fixed she can concentrate on her fledging career as an author, but she should be warned not to write a novel about a twenty-seven-year-old virgin with a criminal father and insensitive family, who meets a mysterious, gorgeous man who may or may not be who he at first appears, because she can be sure that that novel will be rubbish.

And so, what have we learned from reading The Truth About the Tycoon? Firstly, we have learned that Harlequin Silhouette and Mills & Boon Modern Romance are the same, with the possible exception of length. Allison Leigh's book weighs in at a hefty two-hundred and fifty pages. While size may not matter, Leigh's failure to do anything with her extra few thousand words counts against her work. She wastes many pages on peripheral characters, including Hadley's co-workers, her siblings and her tenants at the boardinghouse. While a little local colour might have strengthened the appeal of the story, it is under-utilised, largely irritating and in the cases of Wendell and Nikki the lack of closure and representative meaning are maddening. Dane wonders aloud why Evie, Hadley's sister, named her son Alan, briefly believing this may have something to do with Michaels. The reader learns at the end that Evie had known that Michaels was Hadley's father and had warned her half-sister about him. However, we never learn why Evie then named her son Alan. Is she a tactless idiot, is she mean-spirited, forgetful or is the writing needlessly clumsy?

We also learned something about characterisation. When we spoke of creating heroes and heroines we had a good laugh about personality traits, those telling signs that establish no two humans are quite alike. We too learned that these signs can be visualised by cooing at babies in supermarkets, fidgeting with hair, baking cookies and speaking timidly. It is easy to dismiss these particular foibles and examine the more vital complexions of an individual. The few idiosyncrasies that embody Hadley at first seem to suggest a compelling protagonist, but are quickly forgotten to the insistence of the plot. Her actions are not grounded in our understanding of her introduction. The story should never demand passiveness in a protagonist, and when the protagonist is characterised by passivity for continuity’s sake you have self-sacrificing romance fiction. This counter-productive attitude is amateurish, but the root of the issue lies at the heart of the genre. No matter how a heroine starts out she invariably folds to the rigours of her archetypal storyline.

Does meeting Dane change Hadley? Her lifestyle did not make her content and she awaited the arrival of change that came in the form of a strapping gent. If we ignore the evidence we can argue that Dane allowed her to explore an undiscovered, dormant side of her id, and if so The Truth About the Tycoon is the tale of womanhood and the pitfalls of sexual awakening, the deceit of men and the pain of idealising love, except for here all works out well thanks to an under-cooked thriller subplot. In truth, of course, the book is the tale of true fated love and how our soulmate will find us eventually through a sequence of dubious external contrivances. If you have never read The Truth About the Tycoon the former is a nice way of remembering it.