Further Gripes about Christian Romance

Source

On Monday, I listed some of my major problems with Christian Romance. Today, I want to wrap up that discussion as much as I can. (Also, once again, I would like to thank my sister for aiding and abetting in the writing of this post.) 

See, the problem is, we get so hung up on the “Christian” label, like somehow we’re being promised a great story. At least it’s “clean”. At least it ascribes to a certain set of values. At least…etc. But writers and consumers apparently sometimes forget that “Christian” and “quality” are not synonymous. So let’s talk about this. 

Personhood. I already addressed this in Monday’s post, but I want to reiterate because I focused only on the woman side of issue, and I’d like to broaden my scope. Among other things, I mentioned that the heroines in Christian Romances often seem to exist only for their men to romance them, and that these heroines don’t have much substance to their personalities. However, I should also mention that the men in Christian Romances aren’t generally treated like real human beings either. Instead, they are frequently idealized. 

If you pay close enough attention, you’ll see a pattern. Our Christian Romance hero doesn’t have any true faults. Sure, he teases the heroine and tries to make her angry, but it’s all in good fun. He might have some emotional rough patches (for instance, he might get angry at our heroine for some, probably justifiable, reason), but he has no deep personal flaws. He, like the heroine, doesn’t have a violent streak, or a selfish streak, or a bitter streak. Or, if he does have flaws, they are highly romanticized and painted as good/desirable. He doesn’t even think like a man, usually. In essence, he’s what women unconsciously look for in men—he is a woman in a man’s body. Not to mention, he is insanely attractive and, as with our heroine’s physical appearance, we are frequently reminded of his dashing good looks. Because we all know hotness is the most important factor in a relationship. 

Ugliness. A good romance doesn’t present cardboard characters who exist only to be beautiful and in love. We are all of us imperfect, and we all have ugly aspects to our character. Pretending those facets don’t exist doesn’t give us a better romance—it just gives us a dishonest one. Sometimes I think Christian Romance writers shy away from the representation of sin in their characters’ lives because they’re writing “clean” books. How can you write a “clean” book if you have sinful characters? Wouldn’t it just be awful to show us how bad humans can be? 

I’m not saying Christian writers have to throw away their guidebooks and their morals and write about sordid love affairs and whatnot. But I am saying a Christian writer shouldn’t shy away from the truth, even when it gets ugly. It may not be as desirable to have a heroine and hero who struggle with temptation and sin, who sometimes think bad thoughts and want bad things despite their faith, who mess up again and again until they learn—if they ever learn—but that’s what people are really like. Sure, we humans have many attractive qualities about us: humor, intelligence, physical appearance, whatever. But there’s nothing more beautiful than the grace God has given us, and I wish more Christian Romances focused on that—God’s grace despite our faults—instead of squeaky-clean, perfect-looking, pseudo-humans. Love is more beautiful when it exists despite the ugliness of sin than it is when it exists only as a washed-out, untested version of itself. 

Testing Love. In my Monday post, I briefly touched on the tendency toward romanticized portrayals of roguish men. Many of the heroes in Christian Romance are presented as these reformed ruffians with just enough wickedness in them to make them interesting and exciting and wonderfully dangerous. But this wicked streak is painted as something attractive, desirable, and ultimately harmless. In other words, even his faults are good. And I’ll admit that there is definitely something very attractive about that sort of man. Otherwise, why would that character type be so popular? 

But this representation of the bad guy gone good—or worse, the good bad guy—ignores certain fundamental aspects of human nature. So let me give you an example of human nature. In LORNA DOONE (a book I adore beyond all human reason) we have a highwayman side character who is in love with the main character’s sister, Annie. Annie and the highwayman get married, and the highwayman promises that he has put his old ways behind him and that his love for Annie will be enough. He will not feel the need to go back to holding up carriages at gun point. He has found another cause to live for. Hearts and romance and all that mushy stuff. But fast-forward to later on in the book, and what do we find? Our highwayman has grown restless. After the initial excitement of his marriage has faded and domestic daily life has gotten into full swing, he has begun to realize something. He is, at heart, just not cut out for this sort of existence. At the peak of his romantic feelings, he may have chosen to change his ways, but he is still the man who found adventure and life in breaking the law—his love for Annie and his good intentions haven’t changed the core of his being. Because of this, his antsy-ness at being tied down when his soul was meant to free as a bird puts a strain on their marriage. 

I’m using this example, not because I’m saying every romance that portrays a rogue and a lady falling in love will end in hardship (and I’m also not going to tell you the end of Annie and her highwayman’s story—you’ll have to read the book for that), but I am saying that rogues don’t change completely. At some point down the road, once the excitement of marriage fades, they will want to revert back to their old ways because that’s what comes naturally to them. Even the “good” guys will not seem perfect forever. So instead of always showing us the time when the hero and heroine fall in love, with all its dashing romance and blinding emotion, wouldn’t it be great if writers sometimes showed us what comes later on, down the road? Wouldn’t it be nice if they showed our couple struggling to stay in love despite the natural tendency toward entropy? 

It’s so easy to fall in love, and it’s so easy to write about falling in love. But love doesn’t mean all that much when it isn’t tested, and I think a lot of Christian Romance writers miss that. Otherwise I don’t think we would have so many stories about falling in love and so few about staying in love. After all, we live in a culture where love ends. Often it seems that we fall in love with the secret understanding that we’re falling, but we’ll one day stop falling, and then it will be over. But real love is beautiful and messy and hard, and it is a conscious choice, not an accident. It is a war, not a vacation. The fact that so many Christian writers focus heavily on the happy aspects and shy away from representing the trenches makes me wonder how much these writers truly understand the love they’re writing about. It makes me wonder how much faith they have that the love they’re representing is strong enough to last beyond the honeymoon period. 

In Conclusion. I know there are plenty of unhealthy romances out there and that this is not a peculiarly Christian problem. But if we, as Christians, believe that God is love and the author of all love, then our Romance novels should reflect that belief. In short, Christian Romance should be better, purer, more powerful than run-of-the-mill Romance. Because we Christians should understand what romance means. 

Since I have griped so much about the majority of Christian Romance, I think it’s only fair that I share the ones that have not disappointed me. Unfortunately, the majority of my exposure to Christian Romance happened when I was a young thing, so many of the stories have melded together in my mind. I can’t be sure, now, if the books I think were fine were actually fine. I’m sorry. I do believe Janette Oke’s LOVE COME’S SOFTLY series is okay, as I remember it feeling particularly safe and real. But aside from that, I would have to do some rereading before I felt comfortable putting my stamp of approval on any other examples. 

What about you, little coffee beans? What do you think? Do you have any good examples of Christian Romance? What has been your experience with this genre?

SWEPT TO SEA and My Problem with Christian Romance

WARNING: This post contains potential triggers—if you have trouble with discussing rape, I would advise you not to read further. Also, this post contains a couple mild SWEPT TO SEA spoilers. 

Rating: One star—Ick

Last month Opal @ Opal Swirls wrote an insightful post on why she doesn’t like Christian fiction, and it echoed a lot of my opinions on the subject. But since I am a very opinionated person, and since I want to discuss my issues with SWEPT TO SEA, I’ve decided to share my own thoughts on Christian Romance. You’re welcome. (Also, I would like to thank my sister for aiding and abetting in writing this post.) 

Just as a disclaimer before I begin, I in no way intend to imply that all Christian Romance is garbage or that you’re doing something wrong by reading that genre. Even with all my negative experiences, I have still encountered a few authors whose books are well-written, well-balanced, and worthwhile. But I have read enough problematic Christian Romance novels for me to distrust the genre as a whole. 

It demeans women. Of all the genres I’ve read, Christian Romance is the worst in this category. Sometimes it’s not obvious—sometimes it is. Often the women follow the same poorly developed character pattern. They are weak and helpless without the men in their lives. They are easily teased/offended; they are judgmental, narrow-minded, and prone to foolish bouts of passion. (For instance, in SWEPT TO SEA, Eden often acts like a child and starts beating Caspian’s chest when he says the slightest thing to annoy her.) They are prone to tears—and I’m not talking about deep, emotional tears, which I have no problem with—I’m talking about temper-tantrum tears. These women tend to be rather low on the intelligence and maturity scale. And in the end, despite whatever levels of character development they do have, for the purpose of the story, they exist only for their men to romance them. Were it not for the romance, their stories would not be worth telling. 

Women get treated like sex objects. This bothers me a great deal more than the last one, and I have read too many books where this was the case—including SWEPT TO SEA. Your typical Christian Romance heroine is going to be extremely good-looking, and the author is going to remind you of this fact quite often throughout the story, even when it isn’t essential or even relevant to the plot. The hero of the story is going to notice, rather frequently, how attractive this woman is—her buxom chest, her curvy hips, her soft lips. Just watch for it. Here's the thing, though. If the hero is noticing the attractiveness of the heroine’s lips, he’s going to be thinking about kissing her—that’s just how a guy’s mind works. Okay, you say, so what? Well, let’s take that a step further, shall we? If the hero is noticing her curvy chest and her curvy hips, what do you think he’s thinking about now? Hmm? 

The types of men described in Christian Romances aren’t the cold, feelingless types who admire women as works of art but never cross that line in their mind. So if we’re going to be perfectly honest with ourselves, the hero in our Christian Romance is spending a good deal of his time lusting after the heroine. That’s not okay. Since these books are supposed to be Christian stories, you’d expect them to be reasonably clean. But I would think twice before giving this sort of book to my (non-existent) teenage girls, considering that it would be teaching them, in subtle terms, that it’s okay or even desirable for a guy to lust after them. 

The Sexual Tension. First, let me just say, there’s nothing wrong with two people having chemistry. But I have a very serious problem with some of the ways Christian authors introduce sexual tension. Let’s start with the big one first—the rape trope. As in SWEPT TO SEA, our lovely, helpless heroine gets attacked by some sort of ruffian with the express intention of deflowering her (bonus points if this happens more than once in the novel), and it is the hero’s duty to save her. Of course, there’s nothing objectively wrong with this sort of set-up, if it’s handled correctly. But it so rarely is. 

For one thing, it always makes me feel icky because it seems like a channel for the sexual tension that the author wants to create. She (or he) can’t write an explicitly inappropriate scene, like a love scene between the hero and heroine, because that would be scandalous—so she (or he) writes an attempted rape scene instead because, hey, rape isn’t inappropriate like that. But rape is still sex, and you’re still thinking about sex when you’re reading about it. And these attempted-rape scenes are often written in a way that seems designed to arouse the reader—instead of, you know, a way that would communicate the full horror of that experience. Which means the rape scene gets used to create the same level of sexual tension in the story as a sex scene would—and that’s disgusting. 

That’s not all, though. When the hero has saved the lovely damsel in distress, who has often been reduced to a rather scantily-clothed state, this often serves as a channel for further emotional intimacy between him and his darling. Except, excuse me, but that’s not how that works. When a women has just barely escaped something as violating and violent as rape, she isn’t going to recover that quickly because even though she was saved (hurrah!) she still has to deal with the feelings of helplessness and despair that come with realizing that she is powerless to stop someone from raping her. She is still going to feel violated and dirty. She will need comfort yes, but she will not want physical comfort. So using this trope as a way for the hero and heroine to come to a deeper romantic understanding, with kissing and cuddling involved, is completely inappropriate and insensitive. I’m going to say it again because I really want to make sure I get my point across: Rape is serious; rape is not just a plot point; if you use rape as just a plot point, I will stab you with a spork. 

Another trope that gets used is the “rescuing the heroine from drowning” trope, which also makes me feel sufficiently icky. So our heroine, who is incompetent at most things—including swimming (surprise surprise!)—ends up in the water, drowning. How unfortunate. And this means our hero must showcase his brilliant swimming abilities and his strength. But, lo and behold, Little Miss is just a bit too heavy with that billowy dress she’s wearing, and our dashing hero has to cut most of it off her to keep her from dying. 

Now, I get that this is a reasonably sound rescue tactic—I’m not arguing that point. My problem is with the motivation that seems to be behind this. It’s not appropriate, for a Christian novel, to have our hero undress the heroine under normal circumstances (gasp!), so instead we find a way for the hero to undress the heroine where it isn’t considered inappropriate. Except that it is, because invariably, the hero is going to narrate all the lovely details about her body as he saves her, like her curviness, her softness, etc. Gag me. My problem with this is that, if you want to introduce sexual tension to a story, then just be honest about it and do it. But don’t do it in underhanded ways because it’s still the same thing and it still has the same effect. And if you feel the need to be underhanded about it, what does that say about you? *points finger accusingly*

Unfortunate Messages. In another book I read, from a well-respected author, our heroine gets a horrible sunburn and, for comfort reasons, has to wear a tube top that makes her feel very immodest. The only point this scene has for the story is that now the hero gets to see more of her than she would ordinarily show. Consequently, he gets the chance to realize how sexy *cough cough* I mean, desirable she is. It doesn’t serve to further develop her character, or anyone else’s. It literally only happens to create more sexual tension. And, like the rape trope and the drowning trope, it also communicates the unfortunate idea that women aren’t attractive as potential partners unless they are showing more skin than they ordinarily would. Forget having a wonderful personality or great strength of character. It’s more important that Mr. Right finds you lust-worthy. Listen honey, you shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable to get a guy—just saying. 

Poor Story-Telling. To have a good, sound story, your plot should read like a line of dominoes. When one domino falls, it knocks down another, which knocks down another, which knocks down another. It’s a chain reaction. Everything meshes together neatly, and it reflects the world more honestly—life is based on cause and effect, and every event has meaning. If you can remove a scene (like the above-mentioned tube top scene) without changing the outcome of the story, it means the writing is sloppy. This applies to the rape and drowning tropes as well—they are sloppy writing (in most cases) because they are usually used as short cuts for furthering emotional intimacy without having any more bearing on the plot. And if your romance hinges on a sketchy rescue or a show of skin, how strong is your romance really? 

A Matter of Conscience. Quite often, the male love interest is a rather roguish individual who isn’t hugely concerned with conventions and the distinction between right and wrong. Consequently, this leads to situations where the heroine compromises her own morals. (He clasped her in his arms. She knew she shouldn’t let him take such liberties. It was inappropriate, and if anyone saw her now, they would be scandalized. They would think she was a loose woman, and her reputation would be ruined. But she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Yada yada.) 

This gets painted as an attractive thing—it’s hot for the roguish hero to make out with the heroine, even though she considers making out wrong, etc. Except this totally ignores a huge side of the issue. I’m not saying I think kissing is inappropriate, but I am saying that, when you feel like you are going against your conscience, even when you are not doing something expressly inappropriate, you are still damaging your conscience. And if you go against your conscience too many times, it becomes hardened. Which means I have a problem with stories that portray going against your conscience as attractive. Your conscience is what keeps you in line—it’s what clues you in to the boundaries you should not cross. Once it’s damaged, it doesn’t necessarily recover. And I’m rather disappointed that a lot of Christian literature implies that a good love story involves sneakily damaging your conscience. 

Again, I’m not saying all Christian Romance falls into these traps. As with every genre, you are going to have your good eggs and your bad eggs. But I am saying that I have read far too many books like SWEPT TO SEA. Believe me, I could go on for another whole post about some of the other problems I have with Christian Romance (if you asked me to, I totally would—I might anyway). When it comes down to it, though, all of these issues are just symptoms of a deeper problem. Bottom line: As a Christian writer, if you can’t write romance without finding devious ways to toe the line and compromise your professed morals, then there’s something wrong with your understanding of God’s plan for love and marriage. (Yup, I’ve decided—I’m going to write a sequel to this post.)

What about you, little coffee beans? Do you have any problems with Christian Romance? Do you agree/disagree with me? Can you give me some examples of good, clean Christian Romance? Also, if you would like to read an alternate viewpoint, I direct you to Tessa's lovely post in favor of Christian Fiction. 

Book Review: THE SOUND OF SILVER by Rachelle Rea

Warning: As always, I try to stay relatively spoiler free. But it doesn’t hurt to proceed with caution.

Rating: Three and a half stars—Enjoyable

 

If any of you were wondering, THE SOUND OF SILVER (by Rachelle Rea) is the sequel to THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS, which I reviewed last week. As I mentioned before, Rea was kind enough to give me e-ARCs of both these books, for which I am extremely grateful. Thank you, Rachelle! So let’s talk about this one.

The Romance. I know that I don’t tend to be much of a romance person (since I’m Vulcan and all), but you’d be surprised by what I might actually enjoy when it comes to love stories. Without giving too much away (hopefully), I will say that the romance in THE SOUND OF SILVER was more satisfying to me than it was in its predecessor. This might result from the heightened tension between the two lovebirds, but it might also come from the impossible odds stacked against them and the difficult decisions they must make. I like that Rea involves risk in the equation, rather than just emotion.

Love Triangle? Okay, there isn’t really a love triangle in here. Or is there? I won’t say too much, but I will say that I love what Rea does with this trope, and I love the way it propels the story along while also providing a bit of a break from the romance between Gwyn and Dirk. (Because, while romance is all well and good, breathers are nice as well.)

Jealousy and Anger. Oh yeah, I’m a fan of the darker emotions (in books though—just to clarify—not so much in real life). Some of the characters in Rea’s cast aren’t huge supporters of Gwyn and Dirk and their decisions. I feel that this adds more depth and honesty, since love is never a bed of roses and life often comes with an angry bee still stuck in its honeycomb (yeah, I should probably stop talking). Anyway, when it comes to fiction, I like my sweet with a little sour, and THE SOUND OF SILVER offers a more balanced mixture than THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS.

Other Tidbits. Again we have the entertaining (and, in this case, suspenseful) issues that accompany some of Gwyn and Dirk’s poor communication. Also, as with the previous installment, the plot picks up the pace around the middle, ensuring that readers will want to pay more attention as they near the end. Rea does do a bit more with Ian and Cade, as well as Margried and Sister Agnes, which I appreciated. I’m always a big fan of getting to know the secondary characters, sometimes even more than the main ones (I’m weird like that), so I was hoping this would be the case.

Repeated Information. As with before, the story does seem to contain more repeated information than is necessary. I’m a little lazy when it comes to Kindle, and I appreciate being reminded of some tidbits from time to time so I don’t have to flip back and check for myself (#somuchwork). But I also have a decent memory for bookish details, which means the author usually only has to tell me something once. After that, I’d rather move on to newer and more interesting stuff.

The People. As for our main characters, I share the same feelings about them now as I did in my review of THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS. Again, I liked seeing them struggle with their beliefs—how to live them, how to reconcile them with other stuff, etc… On a deeper level, I love that a good half of the cast has to struggle with maintaining/surrendering some of the happy feelings from the previous book in order to face reality head on. Rose-tinted glasses are lovely and all, but life isn’t all bubble gum and bottomless coffee cups.

Anders. This guy is great. I think I can really sympathize with his weaknesses and his shortcomings. Yet he might also be the most complex and hard-to-understand guy in the book, because his actions tend toward unpredictability (for reasons I can’t give without spoiling it for you). All in all, I lived for the chapters featuring Anders Revelin.

The Ending. I like cliffhangers. I love cliffhangers. So I was really excited to find that Rea is comfortable with leaving her characters in a lurch for a few months until the final book comes out. (On the other hand, though, I have a bit of a Steadfast Love series hangover, since I got to gobble up the first two books without needing to pause for air. And now I’m stuck waiting for THE SOUND OF EMERALDS. Boo. *pouts*)

In my review of THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS, I neglected to mention that, while I have an advanced reading copy, the actual book itself was released a while ago and is available to the general public. THE SOUND OF SILVER, however, will not hit the shelves until October 15^th (at which point, I suggest you buy it).

All in all, while romance isn’t generally my cup of coffee (see what I did there?), I did still enjoy these two books in my own way, and I don’t regret the time I spent in Rea’s story world. Like I said before, if you are a fan of romance, especially Christian inspirational romance, I think this would probably be right up your ally. And I’m going out on a limb here, because I’m not Rachelle so I can’t know for sure, but I do think that if you’ve read these books and enjoyed them, she would love it if you let her know.

 Here are some links:

Website

Blog

Amazon Paperback

Kindle

Book Review: THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS by Rachelle Rea

Warning: As always, I try to stay relatively spoiler free. But it doesn’t hurt to proceed with caution.
 

Rating: Three and a half stars—Enjoyable

Before I say anything, I’d just like to point out that Rachelle Rea is very nice and personable, and she gave me e-ARCS of THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS and THE SOUND OF SILVER (I’ll review that one next week, if all goes well) in exchange for reviews. Thanks, Rachelle! Let’s all just take a moment to applaud her three-book deal with her dream publisher. *claps loudly*

I debated long and hard about whether to give this book three stars or four, because I honestly didn’t hate it. In fact, THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS is super sweet and thoughtful, and I look forward to the sequels. So let’s talk about the story. (Here's a link to the Goodreads page if you'd like to read a summary of the book.)

Gwyn. Gwyn makes for an interesting character. On the one hand, she’s out-going, spirited, and fiery, and on the other hand she’s timid, fearful, and rather weak (both physically and emotionally). I felt I could relate to her inner struggle as she wrestles with her growing knowledge of God and her desire to treat him as holy. Her fear of desecrating the divine by reaching for a personal relationship with God makes her human, and I like that—the way she tries to find how her religion fits in with what others tell her about God. I also like the symbolism of Gwyn’s diamond rosary. Every time she clings to it (usually in moments of distress) I remember her spiritual struggle and her tendency to latch on to her beliefs as a safety blanket against religious disagreement.

However, I wasn’t always happy with Gwyn. She may be able to speak her mind and hold on to a grudge, but she also seems rather too breakable. Quite often she is unable to walk and therefore needs to be carried, or she ends up in some sort of mortal danger and needs to be saved. While I’m not saying these instances are boring/unbelievable/whatever, I do think she fails to stand on her own a little too often (both literally and metaphorically). And while I have no issue with her being helpless from time to time, I would have liked to see her rescue herself at least once. After all, it’s nice to have a man around to save you, but you also need to cultivate your own survival skills. I don’t know—she just seems a little too soft.

Dirk. I like Dirk’s struggle between his desire to clear his name and his desire to make sure Gwyn stays safe and happy. I appreciate that he doesn’t force himself on Gwyn in any way or pressure her to be at a place where she just isn’t emotionally. He’s a super sweet guy, and he’s always there for Gwyn when she needs him. But I also feel like he ends up being her crutch most of the time, and I would have liked to have seen him as less of a savior and more of a person. I liked the glimpses I got of his shameful past and his desire to avoid backsliding. Often that got pushed to the back burner, though, in favor of him thinking about Gwyn and how to meet her needs. I get that that happens in relationships, but I felt that he didn’t shine so much as an individual as I would have liked—instead he seemed to be only half of a package deal.

However, I do understand that what I’ve seen of their relationship takes place in that rose-tinted-glasses period where you’ve just formed a bond and your significant other can’t do any wrong and they’re all you think about, and so on and so forth. I also know that I generally process love as more of an action than an emotion, so I’m not going to relate as well to the butterflies-in-stomach, heady feeling that accompanies falling for someone. It all depends, I guess, on what you like to read in a romance.

The Factual Bits. Rea does an excellent job of filling us in on the historical setting without dumping an enormous pile of information on our laps. Her descriptions of the era feel natural, rather than forced. In much of the historical fiction I’ve read, the author’s awareness of the setting becomes too obvious, like we’re getting the view from an outsider who feels the need to describe every little detail so we know what we’re dealing with. But Rea places us right down in the fifteen hundreds and frees us to wander through the story without tripping on any awkward, scene-building material. Fortunately, she steps in from time to time and leads us around with the air of an experienced tour guide, just so we don’t get too lost.

Also, while I am familiar with many of the differences between Protestantism and Catholicism, I’ve always been a little vague on some of the more general Catholic doctrinal points. So I appreciated Rea’s easy, laid-back way of explaining Gwyn’s religion.

Other Tidbits. I spent a good portion of the book snickering to myself because Gwyn and Dirk are rather bad at communicating their feelings to each other. So that made for some interesting misunderstandings. I also liked how the second half of the book picks up and broadens the scope of the book from just romance to an interesting little dysfunctional family element thingy (I don’t want to say too much because I don’t want to ruin it for you). Both these aspects of the story serve to broaden the plot and the characters, because they touch on humanity itself rather than just idealism.

Repeated Information. I do think that Gwyn’s backstory gets repeated a tad too often. I like that she’s been through some super tough experiences and has had to deal with some trauma, but I think the effect of what she’s experienced can be dimmed a little when it’s referenced too many times.

Secondary Characters. I enjoyed the tension between Margried and Sister Agnes in the latter half of the book, because, again, it deepens the humanity of the story and offers a bit of a break from the romance. Gwyn has a neat little relationship with these two, and I like the dynamics between these characters and all the rest. I do think I would have enjoyed more depth in the male secondary characters, but this is only the first book and maybe Rea will broaden her scope more in the two sequels.

 

All in all, THE SOUND OF DIAMONDS is not a debut novel to be ashamed of, and I think it will really resonate with the romance-loving crowd, specifically the inspirational-romance-loving niche. Even though I’m more Vulcan than dreamer, I did still enjoy this story. I just happen to be super nitpicky and annoying and you should probably slap me (or give me chocolate and whisper nice things to me). Despite my persnicketyness, I did enjoy this book, as I’m sure I’ll enjoy the next two.

 

I don't normally promote authors (you now, beyond a positive review or a shout-out or whatnot), but since Rachelle was kind enough to give me the two e-ARCs, I will share these links so you can buy her books.

 

Website

Blog

Barnes & Noble

Amazon Paperback

Kindle

Books a Million