![]() ![]() To recommend another romance with a heroine of color, written by an author of color, Love On My Mind by Tracey Livesay is amazing. What was he expecting? Some offensive racial stereotype so that people can’t ignore the fact that they’re reading about black people falling in love? Once again, we don’t really need to know about the sex.īut the most egregious thing is that Gottlieb feels the need to point out the race of the main characters, but you’d never know it via the text. Because, let’s be honest, the heroine can’t enjoy her trip to bonetown if she’s dead. I think surviving a “psychopathic killer” is more important than rekindling any sort of romance. But, once again, the sex is great: “He licked, sucked and nibbled at her throbbing bud until she screamed his name as she came over and over again,” and her “knees quivered and shook as if she were on the San Andreas Fault in the middle of an earthquake.” Oh, yes-Zoe and Carver are African-Americans, though except for some scattered references to racial matters, you’d never know it. Will she survive? More important: Will she let Carver back into her life? Go straight to Cheris Hodges’ DEADLY RUMORS (Dafina/Kensington, paper, $7.99) to find out. They: Are caught up in a spiraling thriller, danger from a psychopathic killer looming everywhere. Also, commentary on great sex scenes, in my opinion, is a valid critique component when discussing romances where the sexual content is INTEGRAL to the story, as with erotica or erotic romance. But few of us go into a romance strictly looking for great sex scenes. Um…I’m glad the sex is great? Readers have their own opinions on sex in romance. ![]() ![]() I can reveal this much, however: The sex is great, he “squirming with desire,” she “writhing with delight.” ![]() But anyway, the first line that bothers me: Now…Qunn is a favorite author of many, but if you’re plugged in to the romance community, you’d know that Quinn has said some things rather unfavorable to diversity in romance. Gottlieb begins by listing Julia Quinn’s The Duke and I. If you’re confused about what exactly was so bad about Gottlieb’s piece, allow me to go line-by-line for as long as my wine buzz lasts to illustrate my very own, deep (SO DEEP) frustrations, where Gottlieb went wrong, and how the New York Times can do better. ![]()
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