Posts tagged “anne stuart

The Girl Who Started Something New

Earlier today, Jayne Ann Krentz revealed the full cover for her upcoming novel, The Girl Who Knew Too Much (written under the pseudonym Amanda Quick) on her Facebook page.

In her next historical novel, Ms. Quick is going to take on a whole new era – the 1930s! Romantic suspense against the backdrop of old Hollywood seems like the perfect recipe for a great story, so I am very excited to see where she takes her latest novel.

The American 1930s is an era that hasn’t been explored all that much in the romance genre. Writers, like Johanna Lindsey, have taken on the Wild West – which makes for a romantic read – but Old Hollywood seems to be left mainly alone…with only some of the older novels by Anne Stuart coming to mind. In fact, Goodreads lists only a total of a little over fifty books set in this time frame – which is a very small number considering how large the romance industry actually is.

And it’s not just the American 1930s that lack exploration, but whole other eras and even countries – with that much left unwritten, imagine how many stories we’ve missed out on. Oh, the lost words!

I hope other historical romance writers begin to expand out of the Regency and Victorian eras in Britain – not that I don’t love those eras, because I do and I will always read more stories set in these times – but for those rainy days when you crave variety, it’s time to tell new stories!

Thank you Amanda Quick for taking on something new and for reminding me that there are always new stories to tell!

The ever grateful,

Rika Ashton


A Lesson in Romance Terminology: Alpha, Beta and Gamma

In almost every romance review I read the words: alpha, beta and gamma, used in some way or form. Heck, I use most of these terms myself! But it’s recently come to my attention, that sometimes we use these words out of context, or interchangeably, when in fact they are anything but.

An alpha hero the dominant male in a novel, one who can be and is possessive and jealous of the heroine, but also cares for her and wouldn’t hurt her himself. The alpha perceives anyone who comes between the heroine and himself as a threat, but also strives to protect those he loves. Alphas can also have hidden vulnerabilities, etc.

***A more updated definition, given by Noelle Pierce (thanks, Noelle) states that the alpha male of the following:

Sarah Wendell from recently posted about this and coined the term, “alphole” to describe the past “alpha males” and how they’ve changed. In her words,“Just as every role in romance changes, the definition of alpha changes, too. In Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches’ Guide to Romance (Simon & Schuster, 2009), Candy Tan, co-founder of Smart Bitches, and I described the “Alphole” hero. It used to be that romance was populated with alphas who were really assholes—autocratic chest-pounders with a tendency toward rape or at the least forced seduction. Alphole heroes still show up every now and again, usually as someone who is too assertive without any humility or honor—they’re not really dominant. They’re really just assholes. Alphole heroes are among my least favorite.

But now, readers are more likely to read about Alpha males with strong moral integrity, a hidden tenderness or the ability to be lethal while consistently choosing not to be—those make for some delicious heroes. Alpha heroes could be anything. They could be the alpha of a wolf pack, a literal alpha. They could be commanders or military officers or police chiefs. They could be lords or, depending on the mythology or theology of the romance in question, The Lord. (Heh—God, the Ultimate Alpha Male, particularly in the Old Testament.)” (Reference.) 

One of the best examples of an alpha male is Raphael from Nalini Singh’s “Guild Hunter” series. You may remember Raphael from two blog posts ago, when we counted down the top ten supernatural heroes – as defined by my reading buddies and to some extent myself – when he came in at number 8. Strictly speaking, if the contest had been between Alpha males alone and had not included criteria such as “sensitivity,” Raphael would be the KING OF ALPHAS by far.

As a character, Raphael is physically stronger than most all males in the series and enjoys the position of Archangel, a title never given to the weak and wimpy. Similarly, Raphael is also possessive of his heroine, Elena, to the point that even she – who is no pushover – gives in occasionally so as to prevent all-out wars between Raphael and the other male characters. Raphael’s big defining alpha moment in the novel: When he tells Elena to stop wearing silver earring, the symbol of a unmated female. Other moments include, risking his life for Elena and remaining celibate for a year waiting for Elena to wake from her coma, among others scattered throughout the series.

Other great alphas include, Bones from Jeaniene Frost’s “Night Huntress” series, the males from J. R. Wards “Black Dagger Brotherhood” series, the males from Kresley Cole’s “Immortals After Dark” and the heroes of Gena Showalter’s “Lords of the Underworld” series.

book cover of   England's Perfect Hero    (Lessons in Love, book 3)  by  Suzanne EnochOn the other hand, a beta is milder hero. A beta is more vulnerable and sensitive than an alpha. Though the beta hero is far from a wimp and can show instances of jealousy and possessiveness, these are never his dominating traits. These guys are nice.

I confess, I don’t read too many romance novels with beta heroes since I’m more attracted to the alpha hero. But one significant beta that comes to mind is Robert Carroway from Suzanne Enoch’s England’s Perfect Hero. Robert has the perfect amount of vulnerability, as a war hero who has survived a great trauma. Robert is a wreck of a man and is suffering from post-traumatic stress, depicted through his panic attacks. Robert shuns society, not wanting them to know how vulnerable he really is, but eventually opens up to Lucinda who he begins to trust first as a friend and then as a lover. Robert’s defining beta moment is his willingness to help Lucinda snare a husband, who is not himself, at the beginning of the novel, while a true alpha male nearly almost always screams “mine” from the moment he sets his eyes on the heroine.

Other great beta heroes are Jane Austen’s Mr. Knightley from Emma and Edmund Bertram from Mansfield Park.

Finally, there is the gamma hero. I found two competing definitions of the gamma once I looked it up. One blogger says that a gamma hero is a “combo of the alpha and beta. He’s got all the mad, bad alpha characteristics like being super strong and aggressive and being the guy you turn to if hell is at your door, but he’s not super arrogant. He cares about others (and not just the heroine; the gamma seems to have strong ties to friends and his family). Folks may think the gamma is the Big Bad, but usually his reputation is undeserved and if you look past the surface, you find a guy who was just misunderstood.” One the other hand, the consensus among Amazon reviewers – which is where I first read book reviews on novels I’m interested in – is that the gamma hero is one who is indifferent and is never possessive of the heroine.

So which gamma definition do we consider the correct one? Can the two definitions be combined into one? As in is a gamma hero considered indifferent towards the heroine because she is not the centre of his world, like she is for an alpha and even a beta or is there absolutely no middle ground?

When I looked up examples of gamma heroes a lot of readers directed me to Anne Stuart’s heroes, but once I read a  couple reviews of Breathless on Amazon, I found myself leaning towards the second definition of gamma more and more:

I’m writing this review because I wish I’d seen it before reading this book. When Anne Stuart is good for me, she’s golden. But when she’s bad, she makes me feel traumatized and violated. I think it’s a testament to her skill as an author that she makes me feel so intensely, but I also wish someone would silently point out the books that would traumatize me, so I could avoid them. I wish I could stop reading her altogether…but when she’s good, she is too good.

In order to explain this, I do have to give some mild spoilers for the end of the book. I won’t do that in this review but I will write a comment that details them for the truly curious.

I had a real problem with the hero of this book. Basically, it is this: in the very first pages of the book (this is not a spoiler: you can read the passage in the excerpt here on Amazon), he pays someone to abduct and rape the heroine and force her into marriage.

First, it’s quite clear when he discusses it with the man in question that he would have been perfectly fine if he had raped her, and so he gets full marks for the intention.

But more importantly–even though the heroine says “It hadn’t been rape,” I quite frankly don’t agree. In fact, that infuriated me hugely. To say that it wasn’t rape just because she realized he was strong enough to make it happen anyway, so she didn’t fight is just bull. He takes her against her will; she says no, repeatedly, he does it, and she decides not to fight because she doesn’t think she has a choice and he’s bigger than she is. That, in my book, is rape. And yet the heroine has almost no emotional reaction to it other than a general aversion because the oaf isn’t very good at sex. I found the scene hugely traumatic.

I kept reading, because it’s Anne Stuart. And I know Anne Stuart does bad heroes–not like fake bad, but really bad. When it’s good, it’s great. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. And this was…awful.

If the hero pays someone to rape the heroine, he is going to have to do something really spectacular at the end of the book for me to believe in it. But he doesn’t. There’s no hint of repentance. There’s no grovel. The only thing that remotely hints at some kind of redemption has as a background something he plans to have happen to her that is so foul that it is irredeemable. And in my mind, “deciding not to do something truly foul” just does not come off as sufficient grovel. Especially considering that he is basically awful through and through.

I loved her heroine–she was fantastic, which is why I’ve given the book two stars. But at the end of the book, I wanted her to shoot her husband dead and walk away laughing. (Reference.)

I’m sorry to say that if this is the best example of a gamma hero, I will endeavor to studiously avoid this type of hero. However, if someone has a better example please, please leave a comment and I’ll look this up. I tend to enjoy romance as a genre because thought the heroes can be flawed they are almost always redeemable…Lucien from Breathless was not, however, no matter what his motives.

The defining differences between all these heroes is in how they interact with the heroine. For instances, both the alpha and the gamma can be cold, but the alpha will never be cold towards the heroine. Also both betas and alphas can be vulnerable, but betas open up about their vulnerabilities more easily than an alpha. Similarly, both the alpha and the beta hero will remain faithful to their heroines, throughout the novel or a series. On the other hand, this trait is not always guaranteed in a gamma. However, the one trait that is common in all these heroes is their love for the heroine, which they will admit at some point in the novel. Although, the gamma sometimes never admits their love until the very end of the novel.

Of course, not all heroes fall into these categories…they are not black and white and merely guidelines. While a hero can be predominantly alpha, he may also have beta tendencies, etc. So the definitions provided should be seen as guidelines for when we are reading a review, but only by reading the book itself can we really know what the hero is like.

-Rika Ashton (aka The Hero Categorizer)

P.S: If any of my definitions are wrong/misleading, etc please let me know and I will correct the error of my ways.

P.P.S: If you have better examples of the gamma hero, please let me know as well…I would hate to write this type of hero off my reading list due to one bad example.