“Something passed between them that only women know”

To break up the arduous task of reading The MacGregor Grooms this very weblog has been working its way through Secrets Uncovered, the Mills & Boon how-to e-book. Nearing the end of what once seemed an inexhaustible pit of absurdity and education we finally covered the topic of laughter and whether emotionally galling romance fiction could also contain witticisms and handsome billionaires walking into things. After our brush with Liz Fielding and her unique brand of joke-free comedy there was one question every Bewildered Heart would have wanted to ask had they existed. What is this RIVA we keep pretending to hear about for the sake of an article? With such pressing concerns pending, a further exploration of the RIVA subgenre is called for, to allow for a complete comprehension of what one is or does, and why we, reluctant readers and aspiring authors, might choose to make this our category romance of choice.

For what we unrealistically hope for is more on the subject we turn to Mills & Boon itself, as their submission guideline web-page spells out the important technical information, such as word count, head office location and meaningless editor names, before opening their pitch with a failed attempt at an understandable sentence. 'Riva is a vibrant, exciting new stream of editorial for readers who enjoy authors such as Louise Bagshawe, Tasmina Perry, Marian Keyes.' None of those writers are published by the flowing body of liquid that is RIVA, and for those Bewildered Hearts happily ignorant of Bagshawe, Perry and Keyes' editorial a little additional clarification would be helpful. 'Upmarket, glossy and sharply contemporary, these stories sparkle with wit, humour, passion and emotion!' This is tremendous news for those readers tired of criss-crossing between two sources for their wit and humour needs. RIVA not only offers both, but mixes them with the two elements that everyone would expect from a romantic novel.

Apparently RIVA goes by the much more straight-forward name of Harlequin Presents® Extra & Harlequin® Romance. With that confusion out of the way readers can discover what to expect when opening the upmarket, glossy and potentially hazardous pages of one such book. Harlequin, we prefer our stories hot and steamy, do you have something for the sexual deviant within? 'If you like your stories hot & steamy then you’ll love the Rivas written by original, fresh authors such as Heidi Rice, Natalie Anderson, Kelly Hunter and Kimberly Lang, formerly published in Mills & Boon Modern Heat.' Of course, Bewildered Heart remembers a little something from our previous dealings with Modern Heat, a subgenre with a dark red cover that suggestively hinted at the heavy erotic content and dreary lack of story revealed on the pages of One Night with the Rebel Billionaire. Modern Heat was defined by the two words that made up its moniker. While there already existed a Modern subgenre, Modern Heat took all the topical issues plaguing attractive twenty-seven-year-old virgins with thriving careers, threw in the generic hero, and ramped up the sexual euphemisms from the embarrassing to the redundant.

'These entertaining romances reflect the life experiences of today’s young women, within a chic, glamorous, and usually urban setting. They offer international glamour, passion with a flirty young voice and a whole load of sass!' Indeed, these are novels for the many modern women who enjoy their jet-set experiences of global allure with a healthy dose of feisty sarcasm. Unfortunately these wealthy, fun-loving singletons can't seem to find a handsome, sensitive billionaire in their real lives and have nowhere else to turn but to the romance books they read aboard their private planes. Speaking of such people, 'The heroines are often your twenty-something girls-about-town but there's no compromising on the hero: he must be very alpha and absolutely to die for! There’ll be sparks flying when these two meet – and nothing short of fireworks once they get to the bedroom!' Say no more, Mills & Boon, the writing world is now all too aware that the women of today want their archetypal romances with plenty of flowery language depicting all three of the sexual acts.

While the guidelines stress the importance of retaining the desirable male stereotype they do seem willing to accommodate original subversions of their twenty-something urban professional heroines, allowing the novelist freedom to shake up the tired conventions of girls-about-town and explore the possibilities of ladies-around-the-city and women-of-the-night. Their main stipulation, however, pertains to her voice. She is confident, straight-talking and independent. She knows what she wants from her career and from her personal life, but she would be prepared to give all that up for a suitable husband. Before you begin scribbling or typing, gentle authors, Mills & Boon has more information to reveal about RIVA, and naturally this information contradicts everything that has gone before. Because Harlequin, we prefer our stories flirty and sweet, do you also have something for the easy-going prude within? 'If you like your stories flirty & sweet then you’ll love the Rivas written by flirty, young voices such as Liz Fielding, Jessica Hart, Nina Harrington and Fiona Harper, formerly published in Mills & Boon Romance.' Traditionally the Romance Romance subgenre was defined by its heartfelt love stories, revolving around single parents thinking first of their children and only then of their wanton carnal hunger. With the more adult themes of divorce, death and ageing kept to the Cherish imprint, RIVA aims itself at a more youthful demographic.

'These stories should reflect the experiences of today’s young women – whether it be dating disasters, juggling a work/life balance or overcoming a broken heart. Each story should have an emotional core with believable emotional conflicts but told in an upbeat, fun, contemporary way.' There are more suitable avenues for novels concerning sadness and credible sentimental resonance. In RIVA there must be a lightness of touch to the drama, where a fit of depression can be easily overcome by some flirting with the perfect man over a low calorie cupcake. Speaking of such men, 'The hero should be sexy, aspirational and the romantic tension should sizzle, but when it comes to the bedroom – the door should be firmly closed.' Yes, unlike RIVA, those purveyors of purple, pornographic prose, RIVA would ask their authors to restrict themselves to flirtatious kissing and upbeat dry-humping before coyly turning to describe the fireplace.

The key ingredients to writing the perfect romance for the RIVA imprint therefore focus on the skilled use of flirting, the creation of the archetypes that dominate the entire romance genre and telling stories that capture what it means to be young, feisty, twenty-seven years old, possibly a virgin, skilled at flirting and gallivanting through built up areas tackling work, love, feelings and fashion with a loving spoonful of sassiness. 'We are open to romantic comedies, first person narratives and interesting twists on classic romantic themes.' Mills & Boon always end on the illusion that they are intelligent editors on the look out for exciting new voices with ground-breaking ideas, but when it comes to RIVA there might be a little truth to this notion. After all, the chick-lit trend of a decade ago is dying a slow, albeit watchable, death. Here Harlequin has positioned itself at the centre of this shift in tastes, but unlike the global behemoths of Fifty Shades and Twilight the first person narrators of RIVA are not the simpering, naval-gazing excuses for women that have seen James and Meyer to obscene wealth. Instead they are the empowered, superficial excuses for women that have seen sales in chick-lit plummet.

“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.

'I feel pretty, oh, so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright! And I pity any girl who isn't me tonight.'

And so, you've created a twenty-seven year-old woman as the idealised version of your-twenty-seven-year-old-self and then given her a quirk, such as cooing at babies in supermarkets (but only supermarkets, for anywhere else is creepy), and a physical flaw, such as frizzy hair on especially hot days. Then you've created your ideal man from a possibly embarrassing photograph of Hugh Jackman and loaded him with the kinds of characteristics and physical traits all women agree upon as desirable in a man. Once you have your heroine and hero the next step for your Mills & Boon romance is the story and location. Location is important. The romance genre has a history of exotic and glamorous settings, the sorts of places where running into an enigmatic, ruthless and handsome sheik is a plausible occurrence. After all, the perfect man is a well-hidden breed, and rightfully so. We can't have the manifestation of the perfect partner swanning around urban shopping malls. He must be chopping wood in isolated snow-covered landscapes or flying overhead in a helicopter building a multi-million pound empire to use to lovingly force a woman into his marriage bed.

Fortunately for those undecided on such issues as location Julie Elizabeth Leto is here to help. You may remember her from The Domino Effect, that terrible book Bewildered Heart read and hated. Well, as with so many authors of terrible books we have read and hated, she posts essays on her website explaining how to write terrible books we will someday read and hate. There are many essays, but for now let us concern ourselves with  Where Am I? The Importance of Setting to Your Romance Novel. 'A lush tropical island. A dark, candlelit restaurant by the ocean. A remote cabin in the foggy mountain tops. With little imagination, romantic fantasies bubble out of settings such as these. What better place could possibly exist to set your romance novel? Plenty of better places - trust me. Those listed above are easy and no one ever said that writing well was easy.'

If you're not going to say it, someone should. Writing romance isn't the same as writing well. However, an early point to Julie Leto, as most of her examples are tired and formulaic. Still, a remote, foggy candlelit restaurant on a tropical island sounds delightful, although the service would be poor and the menu mostly fish and coconut. 'Your job as a writer is to create settings that will not depend entirely on images and emotional responses the reader already possesses, but those that will take her literally to a whole new world.' Well, not literally. 'Do I mean science fiction? Not necessarily.' It's not necessarily sci-fi. It's not sci-fi at all. You're misusing the word literally. Stop that.

Leto's reference point is Make That Scene: A Writer’s Guide to Setting, Mood and Atmosphere by William Noble, and according to Noble setting is vital for three reasons, 1, it adds vividness to the story, 2, it influences the characters and 3, it plays a vital role in the story. Now, while this may sound like the nonsensical throwing around of technical words for the benefit of no one, there is something worthwhile to be gleamed for this and that is, location is vital. Without it your characters would wander a desolate world of existential blankness with no dimensions or gravity. Except that itself would be a location. In fact, it is the location of the Tron movies. Leto goes on, 'If a setting you’ve chosen doesn’t interlock this tightly with the story you’re about to tell - if it’s just a backdrop as changeable as stage scenery - you may not have chosen the right place for your story to occur.' We appear to be hammering on about the importance of setting, but it's worth remembering. Setting a tender love story in a futuristic world of bareknuckle-boxing on an oil rig made from cardboard would be stupid. Although tender love can blossom anywhere, so let's not rule out inspired bursts of originality, eh, article?

'West Side Story is essentially Romeo and Juliet set in a different time and place. Fourteenth century Verona becomes 1960s New York City. The circumstances and plot remain the same, but the audience doesn’t seem to mind. The changed setting meant changed characters, and together they flushed out fresh elements to the basic plot of forbidden, star-crossed love.' West Side Story is one of the most romantic American movies ever, according to our friends at the AFI, so good example, Julie. West Side Story is a silly film, where the forbidden element of the love isn't credible or particularly well-thought out. Then again, the silliness might have had more to do with the constant singing, homo-erotic dancing and egotistic vanity.

'Contrary to popular myth, Poe was not a drugged-out weirdo who wrote gross stories about blood and gore. On the contrary, he was a master craftsman whose attention to detail in his tightly woven narratives contradicts any possibility of a steady use of hallucinogens.' At this point it is easy to become concerned for Julie Leto's grasp on reality. But thank God she's here to defend Edgar Allen Poe from the vast majority of literary experts who revile him as nothing more than an old-timey version of Eli Roth. With Poe's reputation restored, let's see what the drugged-out weirdo had to say. 'In the whole composition there should be no word written, of which the tendency, direct or indirect, is not to the one pre-established design. And by such means, with such care and skill, a picture is at length painted which leaves in the mind of him who contemplates it with a kindred art, a sense of the fullest satisfaction…' Let us hope Leto didn't take Poe's review of Hawthorne as a personal attack on her own novels, but we can surely sleep peacefully under the notion that she doesn't consider herself a skilled literary artist.

'In our novels, the preconceived or single effect is romance, coupled with the overall mood of the book (i.e., suspense, a historic richness, or humor). Genre and sub-genre - your targeted market - must be taken into consideration when you plan your overall effect.' We appear to have narrowed our choice down to either Modern, or Romance. The single effect, therefore, is romance, with the mood being romantic. Romance plus romance equals double romance, thus Romantic Romance, our preferred sub-genre. Thus the setting must be evocative of romance, the sort of place people go to fall in love, which also has the effect of helping people fall in love. Suitable locations would include a lush tropical island, a dark, candlelit restaurant by the ocean or a remote cabin in foggy mountain tops.

'Should the setting enhance the single effect, or contrast it?' It turns out that there are unlimited choices open to an author when choosing location. Perhaps a contrasting background would work more strongly, for example somewhere that does not instantly produce love make might the impending love even more powerful, through contrast. How about finding love in the most unlikely location? But surely, you cry, a remote cabin in foggy mountain tops is unlikely. What kind of single man will hang out there with anything other than murder on his mind? You're right, and possibly a little paranoid. In The Domino Effect, our spy heroine was thrust into the surprisingly easy-going locale of a Chicago nightclub, with all the mystery, sexiness and poor lighting one would expect from such a place. Clearly Leto wanted to enhance the effect. Had she contrasted it, her tough-talking, hard-living, sexy spy might have had to seek out traitors at a nursery school, or a petting zoo. Quickly, Google, write that idea down.

Leto moves onto how to set a scene, saying, somewhat curiously, that a writer must use words to describe things. 'To most of us, there is only one way to establish setting - through description by the author.' Most of us, Julie? We can assume the rest are illiterate, or screenwriters. If the writer has decided against inference through story and dialogue, instead insisting on straight description, we return to William Noble, who has another list of three things. 1, Colours, 2, Shapes and 3, Textures. Well, that is hard to argue with. Noble asks us to, 'Imagine ourselves in the scene: it is we who do the looking and the absorbing, and we know what will strike us most forcefully. We seek ‘key details’ with this method, ever mindful that use of detail can overrun us if we aren’t careful.' Indeed. Readers don't read Mills & Boon for the fancy language and poetic insights. If they want good writing there's a much smaller shelf a few rows down. We're here to serve them with a straight-forward story of romance with lashings of romance against a backdrop of romanticism. What does it matter if we don't know any appropriate words besides romantic?

“Her tongue thickened. Here it came. She tried to prepare herself. 'Oh?'”

When we left The Dad Next Door he was beginning to fall in love with our protagonist, Alison, but remained concerned how this new relationship would effect his daughter, Tory. Alison, meanwhile, was beginning to fall in love with the single father neighbour, Gavin, but was concerned he was obsessively stalking Tory's mother, Marianne. Tory, on the other hand, was still coming to terms with the death of her sister, Samantha, in a motorcycle accident (Sam was hit by a motorcycle), and the move to Squam Lake, but at least now has Alison, her adoring new mother figure and a general disinterest towards the feelings of others, because she's a child.

The easily resolved issues don't stop there, however. First there is Alison's divorced father, named something fatherly yet distant, such as Frank (it's actually Seth, how inappropriate), and then there's Marianne, a bohemian version of Megan Fox, with black hair, pale skin and facial features so chiselled a man could cut a finger on them. Marianne is an artist and Tory's estranged mother, disappeared for years. A bad woman, a bad mother, a lousy girlfriend and, though the author doesn't acknowledge it directly, an inept painter of moody, esoteric pictures with little commercial value. Alison is the Julie Bowen alternative to Megan Fox, all smooth lines, safe for children, warm autumnal colours and blonde hair. Her shop, The Perfect Thing, is a tourist trap of popular nic-nacs obtuse visitors and locals immediately adore.

All this homely pleasantness and reasonable reactions to everyday occurrences is soon shattered by the return of Marianne, with a secret so dark and unlikely no one may ever be the same again, except Tory who glides through life with a childlike apathy towards the feelings of others. The use of 'may ever be the same' is apt, because Marianne's secret doesn't change much irrevocably, it merely serves to extend the story for a further one hundred or so pages. Marianne's secret is nothing compared to Seth's secret. That's a secret that should shatter everyone's lives, but somehow doesn't, resulting in something eerily close to incest. Yep, The Dad Next Door is the first Mills & Boon to contain 'sorta incest'. Add that to the list, Google.

Our delightful heroine, Alison, is a modern woman of standard neuroses. Her recent broken engagement to Tyler isn't important in the grand scheme of things. Her future is fixed from the moment Gavin and Tory move in next door and the adult problems soon to plague her quiet house of middle class domesticity only serve to regress her back to childhood and the same selfish outlook that bonds her so quickly to Tory. She grew up with Marianne and everything was a competition. Every boy Alison liked was stolen by Marianne and Seth always took Marianne's side. Some father, the reader thinks, unaware how right they are. With her feelings for Gavin growing the arrival of Marianne threatens to upset their newfound love, especially as it takes place shortly after The Dad Next Door's only sex scene, on a sofa and involving metaphorical melting.

Despite this, CJ Carmichael has no intention of figuring anything out, instead using Marianne as an unrealistic plot point. Her sudden reappearance reveals the devastating secret no one wants to hear. Oh, please allow this weblog to reveal the secret, because our Bewildered Heart cannot contain itself any longer! Seth had an affair with Marianne's drunken whore of a mother and is, in fact, Marianne's father. Holy cow, yes! Alison and Marianne are half-sisters and always have been. Not only that, but Alison slept with her niece's father. Phew! You have no idea how long we've been wanting to tell you that, indulgent reader. Can you believe it? Alison Bennett always seemed like such a nice, simple woman of autumnal colours and Julie Bowen congeniality. It must be that child that looks eerily like how Megan Fox presumably looks. Everybody knows what bad influences the child-incarnations of Transformers stars are.

You're gosh darn right, non-existent alcoholic Squam Lake busy-body. How will this mess of crap be sorted in the remaining ten or so pages? Really, there are only ten pages left? What, is Carmichael just going to call a taxi for Marianne, remove her from the picture and then have the characters never again mention this sordid chapter of their lives, much to the dismay and annoyance of the reader, who had patiently concentrated on her words for two hundred and eighty pages awaiting something dramatic to take place? Nah, of course not. That would be rubbish and deeply infuriating.

The Dad Next Door positions itself as a Tender Romance and the sexual element, while present, is subtlety excised, the editor moving on as the couple move into the bedroom, leaving the awkwardly timid descriptions of penetration, thrusting and orgasm (we all know it happens) on the floor of the writer's equivalent of the cutting room. Clipboard? Unlike Modern and Blaze! there includes a noticeable plot centred around a compelling protagonist. There is a child old enough to speak and influence the narrative and Carmichael cleverly uses Tory to push Alison and Gavin together, their intimacy brought about by a resolutely pampered kid. This is no different from other romance stories that use a gimmick to hurry along the romance, but a child brings a heightened emotional significance to any potential coupling. This relationship has more riding on it than a wasted month of crying, eating ice cream and watching reruns of Murder, She Wrote.

Furthermore, there is the introduction of Marianne, a villain. A woman whose selfish apathy towards the feelings of others isn't as adorable or as tolerated as Tory's. Marianne is a cold, conniving artist-type who never wanted children and was forced to give birth to twins when she would have preferred an abortion. In another writer's hands Marianne could have been portrayed as human, weak and confused, a victim of circumstance, poverty and poor parenting, while also suffering from a proper illness that is wrecking her life and destroying any chance she has of making contact with her only daughter. However, Carmichael takes a different route. Marianne is a manipulative bitch with a made-up disease who stands between Alison and her man, undeserving of happiness she has not earned and cruel and drunk and inconsiderate and a bitch and I hate her.

Fair enough then, but Marianne represents little more than Alison's own deluded sense of entitlement. We here at Bewildered Heart love a happy ending and as the word count is reached Alison, Gavin and Tory are complete, a loving and happy family. Woo-hoo. Yet if there is one thing even better than a happy ending it is a good ending, with all the story strands resolved in a satisfying and rewarding manner. The Dad Next Door has a happy ending, but a disappointing one. Gavin and Alison's contentment has left a trail of damaged people in its wake, but because those people brought their shame, loneliness and misery on themselves the reader is expected not to mind. If Romance Romance has the opportunity for more complex scenarios, darker character history and less easily-obtained romance than the usual Mills & Boon sub-genres, then Romance Romance owes itself deeper emotional resonance than The Dad Next Door.

Please note that this review refers to CJ Carmichael's The Dad Next Door, and not Kasey Michaels' The Dad Next Door, published by Silhouette and featuring an author with a worryingly similar name.  We also do not mean to criticise Virginia Myers' The Dad Next Door, or any living or deceased male neighbours with children, although you probably have your own narrative issues that a few rewrites and sex scenes would take care of.

“Speaking of the devil, your daughter looks remarkably like...”

Mills & Boon categories are conveniently separated by colour. The more sexually explicit material has a sexually explicit picture on a cover adorned with red, the international colour of explicit sexual material. Modern Romance is symbolised by blue, because blue is classy, emotionally sterile and modern. Our newfound favourite subgenre is Romance Romance, also known by a series of less powerful monikers including Tender Romance and Special Moments. These books have an innocent picture of two adults innocently cavorting with an adorable child on a orange cover, because nothing speaks of romance without explicit sexual content like the colour orange.

The Dad Next Door tells the story of a thirty-something single dad, abandoned by his wife when their twin girls were one-year-olds. Marianne, a traditional name for an evil woman, disappeared and has not been heard from since. Life for the single dad, Gavin Gray, hasn't brightened either. From two kids he is down to one, Tory, an insolent, uncommunicative tyke without opinions or forthrightness. Her sister, Samantha, was the outgoing, strong-willed one, so outgoing in fact, she ran into a street one day and was hit by a motorcycle. Gavin is tired and disconsolate, but still rather handsome, with broad shoulders and John F. Kennedy's gait. Shortly after Samantha's death he ups sticks and moves to small town New Hampshire into the house his wife grew up in, a decision the author, CJ Carmichael, manages to make sound more curious than creepy. To add to the glamour of the location the book is set on Squam Lake, the very golden pond Henry Fonda and Katherine Hepburn filmed On Golden Pond on. The American Film Institute's twenty-second best romantic film is surely the most glamorous movie ever made about geriatric loving, irresponsible parenting and fear of dying.

Meanwhile, back in the novel, we meet the cute and loveable Alison Bennett, a single business owner with only happiness in her manner. She takes an immediate interest in the strapping hunk of grief moving in next door and can't help but note the adorability of his daughter. However, we soon learn Alison comes with her own forlorn hopelessness. She receives an order of wedding invitations she forgot to cancel, having cancelled everything else romance-related with her ex-fiance, Tyler Jenkins. Now just a sad, lonely woman with nothing to do in the evenings except be alone, her telephone rings and who's on the other end? Her father, wishing her a happy birthday.

My word, book. How did you get published? What is more, we're only three chapters in. Bring on the terminal illness and dog who has seen better days. It makes for an inauspicious beginning when to up the ante the author decides to kill a child, and to add insult to death the accident, as Gavin wants it to be known, seems a superfluous tragedy to base the narrative around. There is plenty going on with this family without the need to make the cause so obvious and peripheral. We will learn more of the incident and its effect on the characters in due course, as Alison gently tugs on the string holding Gavin's existence together. Clearly he and Tory have not moved on from losing Sam, as a father and a twin sister are supposed to. While Alison has moved on from her broken engagement from Tyler, her divorced and lonesome parents do not believe she has made the right decision. In the small town tongues wag and Alison needs a new man in her life to quell speculation as much as Tory needs a mother figure and Gavin needs a supportive, loving woman. But good golly, that's surely too much to ask. If only there was some way to neatly fit these carefully constructed pieces into one puzzle.

While Bewildered Heart continually criticises the problematic nature of Modern, Sensual Romance, Blaze! and Modern Heat, for their inherent lack of depth to story and characters, even the most cynical critic cannot fault The Dad Next Door, which dishes out the neuroses and tragedies as if the author has something to prove to the reader. This overwhelming heartache will make the coupling of Gavin and Alison, because that is happening, all the more satisfying, as this union will solve every problem for every character and every character has a serious problem that only love will solve. Hurrah for the healing power of love!

Credit therefore to CJ Carmichael. Well done, her, so far. Nevertheless, with all this additional sorrow piled upon a simple tale of love the writing becomes a delicate balancing act of haunted emotion and story progression. Alison is an old school-friend of Marianne, and the revelation of her being Gavin's former flame must have an effect on the burgeoning relationship, meaning Carmichael will have to introduce Marianne and even Tyler now they've been pointedly referenced, their force over our leads abundantly apparent.

Never before in my Mills & Boon reading has a story begun with so many broken lives, with so many characters living in lonely despair, regretting life choices and reluctant to be hurt once more, in a world where everyone gets hurt and nothing good comes easily. This isn't to say The Dad Next Door is a successful book, of course, the prose style has forced contrivances and heavy-handed emotional footnotes, leaving no room for subtlety, and yet it is these faults that feel more in-keeping with the Harlequin modus operandi. There is plenty of opportunity for subtext, yet a stern refusal to leave certain things unsaid. When a character stops short of saying how they really feel, the narrator helpfully jumps in, to press home the unspoken bond between Gavin and Alison. This is a shame, but perhaps an inevitable one.

There remains a missed opportunity in back-dating the tragedy. After all, who wants to read a book in which all the interesting, dramatic things have already happened? The Dad Next Door ends up revolving around the renovation of a house, a handy metaphor, but a didactic and clichéd one. We, the gentle readers, continue on regardless awaiting the arrival of Marianne with all her baggage. There is an obstacle in the way of romance here greater than Gavin and Alison's thought processes and hang-ups. Marianne represents the author's first obvious concern when introducing a child into their Mills & Boon world. What happened to the missing parent? And of course, what about the child? How does the kid figure into the plans of the adults? Presently, Tory is a minor nuisance, with an issue Alison immediately fixes through the clever skill of offering companionship. Therefore the daughter becomes what children are in real life, a sign that their single father is sensitive and charming.

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that I'm gonna get sunburn on my rear end?"

Before an aspiring author attempts their addition to the swell of romance writing published every month by Mills & Boon they are smartly advised to choose the sub-genre they wish to be considered for. Without further ado, therefore, a little research is necessary. As Bewildered Heart has already helpfully alluded to there are numerous different styles for your generic love story, including, but not limited to, Nocturne, Medical, Blaze!, Intrigue and Historical. Other less well-known categories are named Mira, Cherish, Desire and Riva. What are these? you demand, impatiently. Unfortunately, our necessary research wasn't especially thorough, but never mind because Cherish sounds like the antithesis of Desire and frankly the other two aren't even words, so forget them.

Because of a particular aversions toward vampires, demons, well-being, sex and old people, we should press on with the least likely category to contain animalistic rutting between otherworldly beasts. With Nocturne and Cherish out of the way then, we are left at the grateful feet of Modern and Romance. Yes, that's correct. There's a Romance sub-genre called Romance. Romance Romance, you might say. So, what does the Romance Romance genre ask for? Mills & Boon opens with, 'Do you love a happy ending?' It is never a good idea to immediately ask  a stupid question, but seeing as how they have we have little choice but join them. Don't all Mills & Boon books have happy endings? If the reader didn't love a happy ending would they even be here? How does that separate this style from all the other styles? Can we pretend they didn't ask that and move on? 'Do you love to get lost in a story that takes you on a roller-coaster of emotions?' Sure, why not. A roller-coaster of emotion sounds like a normal roller-coaster, except with more vomiting. But seeing as how most romance novels are emetic there doesn't appear to be anything here to differentiate this from the likes of Historical and Medical, besides history and medicine. After all, a stroll through indifference would be a terrible idea for a story.

'Do you want to walk in your heroine’s shoes?' They don't offer great arch support and chances are they wouldn't fit, but yes, we most certainly do. After all, she is our narrative representation, albeit with nicer shoes. 'Do you want pure Romance?' Of course, who doesn't want pure romance? No more of this diluted romance that doesn't even taste like romance. It's mostly anti-freeze. This question is a tricky one to answer, but the implication is that Romance Romance skips on the more sultry stuff. 'Each story delivers 100% pure romance - but happily leaves the explicit detail on the cutting room floor! Readers come to this series to experience the feel-good high of love blossoming!' So it's 100% pure, but not uncut?

'Do you want to explore a rainbow of emotional scenarios?' This is the same question as before only worded slightly differently, so the answer remains the same, only worded slightly differently. You're gosh darn right we do! And yet, why does it feel as if you're making vague and derisory statements that in no way explain what Romance Romance writers are expected to deliver? How about a long list of words? 'Vibrant, hilarious, heart-wrenching, exciting, uplifting, unexpected, intelligent, warm…' Yep, that didn't help either. In fact, as a description it seems ever more confused. Does Mills & Boon want a novel that fits all of these adjectives, or can the author choose one word and base their book around that, because Bewildered Heart has never featured a Harlequin that was any one of those things.

'We celebrate women: their lives, triumphs, families, hopes, dreams…and most importantly their journey to falling in love. These are heroines every woman can relate to, root for, a friend you can laugh with and cry with. There should be a sense that the story really could happen to you!' That's something. Readers of Romance Romance seek familiarity, their own personal, realistic fairytale with a likeable, relatable lead character. But what about that chap hiding behind her? 'Behind every strong woman…there’s a strong man. A guy you could meet on the sunniest of days, but who’ll be there for you on the rainiest.' That doesn't make sense. Let's assume what they're demanding is that we don't create a fair-weather love interest, instead a man who can be relied upon, for better and for worse, through sickness and in health, the sort of heroic lover that has appeared in every Mills & Boon since its inception.

'So - wherever in the world your book is set, whether it’s fun and flirty or deeply emotional, let your imagination fly. The possibilities in Romance are endless.' Please note that by endless we here at Mills & Boon are not implying that the possibilities in romance are endless. On the contrary they are limited to a standard structure, character archetypes and predictability any deviation from will result in instant manuscript rejection. We ask all potential authors to follow the strict guidelines that are not mentioned anywhere within the submission section of our website because we enjoy receiving up to 20,000 manuscripts a year that are unsuitable for publication.

Alternatively, there's Modern Romance, which translates as romance for the modern woman, still 100% romantic, but now with the occasional sex scene and talking on mobile phones! 'Modern Romance is the last word in sensual and emotional excitement,' they inform us. 'Readers are whisked away to exclusive jet-set locations to experience smouldering intensity and red-hot desire.' They are whisked away to exclusive jet-set locations in their imagination, for those excitable readers who took that literally. Modern Romance is the most popular category to write in and the most comfortable to be seen buying. Who doesn't yearn for a little romance in this day and age? Despite the contemporary illusion, the stories are exactly the same as they are in Romance Romance, only with the sexual element amped up to Low.

'Modern Romance explores emotional themes that are universal. These should be played out as part of highly-charged conflicts that are underpinned by blistering sexual anticipation and released as passionate lovemaking. However, Modern is not the home of purple prose, cliché or melodrama; we want to see writing that offers unique perspectives and bursts with originality.' Yeah, you salty dogs. Clichéd, melodramatic purple prose with stereotypical perspectives that occasional flashes with banality are published under the Blaze! banner.

So what have we learned from this, besides not to look to the Help pages for help? Well, it really comes down to sexual content. Much like life itself the books are categorised by the amount of explicit description they contain. Modern Romance features one, maybe two, encounters, but must use coy euphemisms and old-fashioned reactions to mark the books out as Modern. Blaze! can say what the reader wants to read, and must tailor their story around a couple who meet and almost immediately begin having sex, thus discrediting any semblance of intellectual connection. With Romance Romance the focus is rightly on the romance, and it would be expected that the couple do not fuse their bodies in a fit of passion until after the book has ended. A standard example will revolve around a slow-burning and tender courtship often involving a single parent with an adorable child. That's another thing we'll have to think about later on down the line, the involvement of adorable children, but for now we should all get on with reading some Romance Romance and the first example will be The Dad Next Door, and look there's an adorable child on the front cover holding a teddy bear!