Joanna Chambers
Author of Provoked
About the Author
Series
Works by Joanna Chambers
Associated Works
Another Place in Time: A Collection of Historical Short Stories (2014) — Contributor — 61 copies, 3 reviews
Gifts for the Season: Winter & Christmas MM Charity Anthology (2020) — Contributor — 21 copies, 4 reviews
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Reviews
Real Rating: 4.76* of five
The Publisher Says: Sunshine PA, meet Grumpy Boss ...
When fanfic writer Aaron Page landed a temp job with the creator of hit TV show, Leeches, it was only meant to last a week. Three years later, Aaron’s still there ...
It could be because he loves the creative challenge. It could be because he’s a huge Leeches fanboy. It’s definitely not because of Lewis Hunter, his extremely demanding, staggeringly rude ... and breathtakingly gorgeous boss.
Is it?
Lewis Hunter show more grew up the hard way and fought for everything he’s got. His priority is the show, and personal relationships come a distant second. Besides, who needs romance when you have a steady stream of hot men hopping in and out of your bed?
His only meaningful relationship is with Aaron, his chief confidante and indispensable assistant. And no matter how appealing he finds Aaron’s cute boy-next-door charms, Lewis would never risk their professional partnership just to scratch an itch.
But when Lewis finds himself trapped at a hilariously awful corporate retreat, Aaron is his only friend and ally. As the professional lines between them begin to blur, their simmering attraction starts to sizzle...
...And they’re both about to get burned.
I WAS OFFERED A DRC AND ACCEPTED WITH UNSEEMLY GLEE.
My Review: Hello! Are you new around here? I kind of doubt it, but one never can be certain...so let me offer a greeting and an invitation to poke around, look over the goods, see what interests you. One thing you'll notice fairly quickly is that I like the books that feature people like me, which is to say men who sex up men while loving every minute of it; older men who have the good fortune to find younger men who enjoy their company; and who (lucky fictional bastards!) get second chances at The One(s) Who Got Away.
Authors Joanna Chambers and Sally Malcolm have each appeared on the pages of the blog on previous occasions, their respective ouevres coming in for no little praise on their own merits. (Still slightly shocked that BBC Scotland hasn't made Enlightenment into a limited series, Author Chambers...get your People onto it! David Tennant ain't gettin' any younger!) I am, in short, inclined to look upon these creatives' creations without undue harshness, permaybehaps even a Vaseline-smeared lens of hazy happiness.
When I am not being assaulted by w-bombs. (Two were allowable; they deepened the...foulness...of a revolting character; four others, NO; net deduction = 24 stars.) (What do you mean, there aren't 24 stars? It's my review and I'll...oh, very well you boring commonsensical internal voice.)
The fun of watching, that is reading, this story was evident from the get-go. The insta-luuuv between the characters being sublimated into a working relationship for ages was nicely explained away by Aaron's dirty little secret: He writes fanfic in Lewis's show's universe! Well, as a reason for him to stay shtumm about his feelings, that one does a lot. He can't give up his literal dream, or his literal dreamboat, now can he. Plus Lewis clearly senses Aaron's abilities as a writer, as a fellow creative story-teller, and no one who's ever had a whole business riding on their shoulders can ever resist a true Lieutenant Colonel showing up when you need 'em. (Not to mention the man's a fount of excellent story ideas, and can keep the fan-service pipeline flowing both ways.)
There's a lot of fun in reading these words, just as words. This is exactly as one would expect from the two authors involved in creating the story.
And we'll leave that there...*evil chuckle*
What a pleasure, then, to have this as a week-ending read. I wasn't expecting it to be awful, or painful; I was expecting it to be somehow less than the sum of the authors' different powers, a watering-down of what I've come to expect. I just love being wrong! Their different ways of approaching a story came together beautifully, and made this a better story than I'd even let myself hope that it was going to be. I'm also pleased that the process of working together worked well for them so we're going to get a book two and even a book three! I predict book two will be about Owen. (That was, if y'all were wondering, a stonking great hint.)
The genuinely surprising thing in this read...and let's not front, there's next to nothing surprising in romances...is that it takes its milieu seriously. The world of Fandom is presented without an arched eyebrow or a barely concealed sneer. The existence of AO3 is very much part of what drives the plot. The kind of characters in the fannish con-world are spot on and mostly treated kindly. (I, like Lewis, am unable to endure long moments of speech emitted by up-talkers.) The end of the story is a fan-person's wet dream. It is a pleasure to see the sub- go Culture.
I am well and truly pleased, Authors each and both, and I thank you for making me the offer of a DRC for review. show less
The Publisher Says: Sunshine PA, meet Grumpy Boss ...
When fanfic writer Aaron Page landed a temp job with the creator of hit TV show, Leeches, it was only meant to last a week. Three years later, Aaron’s still there ...
It could be because he loves the creative challenge. It could be because he’s a huge Leeches fanboy. It’s definitely not because of Lewis Hunter, his extremely demanding, staggeringly rude ... and breathtakingly gorgeous boss.
Is it?
Lewis Hunter show more grew up the hard way and fought for everything he’s got. His priority is the show, and personal relationships come a distant second. Besides, who needs romance when you have a steady stream of hot men hopping in and out of your bed?
His only meaningful relationship is with Aaron, his chief confidante and indispensable assistant. And no matter how appealing he finds Aaron’s cute boy-next-door charms, Lewis would never risk their professional partnership just to scratch an itch.
But when Lewis finds himself trapped at a hilariously awful corporate retreat, Aaron is his only friend and ally. As the professional lines between them begin to blur, their simmering attraction starts to sizzle...
...And they’re both about to get burned.
I WAS OFFERED A DRC AND ACCEPTED WITH UNSEEMLY GLEE.
My Review: Hello! Are you new around here? I kind of doubt it, but one never can be certain...so let me offer a greeting and an invitation to poke around, look over the goods, see what interests you. One thing you'll notice fairly quickly is that I like the books that feature people like me, which is to say men who sex up men while loving every minute of it; older men who have the good fortune to find younger men who enjoy their company; and who (lucky fictional bastards!) get second chances at The One(s) Who Got Away.
Authors Joanna Chambers and Sally Malcolm have each appeared on the pages of the blog on previous occasions, their respective ouevres coming in for no little praise on their own merits. (Still slightly shocked that BBC Scotland hasn't made Enlightenment into a limited series, Author Chambers...get your People onto it! David Tennant ain't gettin' any younger!) I am, in short, inclined to look upon these creatives' creations without undue harshness, permaybehaps even a Vaseline-smeared lens of hazy happiness.
When I am not being assaulted by w-bombs. (Two were allowable; they deepened the...foulness...of a revolting character; four others, NO; net deduction = 24 stars.) (What do you mean, there aren't 24 stars? It's my review and I'll...oh, very well you boring commonsensical internal voice.)
The fun of watching, that is reading, this story was evident from the get-go. The insta-luuuv between the characters being sublimated into a working relationship for ages was nicely explained away by Aaron's dirty little secret: He writes fanfic in Lewis's show's universe! Well, as a reason for him to stay shtumm about his feelings, that one does a lot. He can't give up his literal dream, or his literal dreamboat, now can he. Plus Lewis clearly senses Aaron's abilities as a writer, as a fellow creative story-teller, and no one who's ever had a whole business riding on their shoulders can ever resist a true Lieutenant Colonel showing up when you need 'em. (Not to mention the man's a fount of excellent story ideas, and can keep the fan-service pipeline flowing both ways.)
There's a lot of fun in reading these words, just as words. This is exactly as one would expect from the two authors involved in creating the story.
Charlie was one of those almost-but-not-quite-good-looking men. Everything about him was just a little average. A little medium. On the two or three occasions he'd come into the office to see Lewis, he'd always seemed to Aaron to be trying to make up for that somehow, with his overbearing manner and his ridiculously pretentious outfits.
–and–
...Lewis yelped, "Wave!" and they both stumbled backwards as the surf splashed up over their ankles, soaking the ends of their rolled-up jeans. Lewis lost his balance as he scrambled up the beach, Aaron grabbed him, and suddenly they were both clinging to each other, laughing.
And then, just as suddenly, they weren't laughing.
They were simply standing there in the moonlight, clutching each other's arms, gazing at each other. Lewis looked dishevelled and windblown, undone in a way that transformed him from idol into someone more real, more tangible, his dark hair blowing across his forehead, and his eyes the deep blue of the twilight sky. He swallowed visibly, lips parting, chest rising and falling. Breathing hard. His fingers tightened on Aaron's arms, drawing him closer.
And we'll leave that there...*evil chuckle*
What a pleasure, then, to have this as a week-ending read. I wasn't expecting it to be awful, or painful; I was expecting it to be somehow less than the sum of the authors' different powers, a watering-down of what I've come to expect. I just love being wrong! Their different ways of approaching a story came together beautifully, and made this a better story than I'd even let myself hope that it was going to be. I'm also pleased that the process of working together worked well for them so we're going to get a book two and even a book three! I predict book two will be about Owen. (That was, if y'all were wondering, a stonking great hint.)
The genuinely surprising thing in this read...and let's not front, there's next to nothing surprising in romances...is that it takes its milieu seriously. The world of Fandom is presented without an arched eyebrow or a barely concealed sneer. The existence of AO3 is very much part of what drives the plot. The kind of characters in the fannish con-world are spot on and mostly treated kindly. (I, like Lewis, am unable to endure long moments of speech emitted by up-talkers.) The end of the story is a fan-person's wet dream. It is a pleasure to see the sub- go Culture.
I am well and truly pleased, Authors each and both, and I thank you for making me the offer of a DRC for review. show less
The w-bombs come thick and fast here. Two—two!—within the first chapter alone! The onslaught of cheesy, unpleasant eye-infection behaviors continued until there were six...count 'em six...infringements of the Readers' Rights Agreement. Humph.
Perry is a Chelsea-bun hero all right, plain on the outside but fruity and spicy all the way through. (That's the period-appropriate term for a Cinnamon Roll hero, don't you know...since Chelsea buns were first made in the eighteenth century, unlike show more cinnamon rolls.) He's ooey-gooey sweet, with that large, lumbering man charm that seems to center on not fitting the furniture:
He was sitting in a spindly little chair, at a spindly little desk in the morning room. It was probably a lady’s desk and part of the effects of the house Adam had purchased when he’d bought the estate. Had the previous occupants been elves, Perry wondered? Most of the chairs in the house seemed to be too small for him.
Been there, Brother Man, been there and hated the view. Dinky little people need to understand that they are not the proper measure of the world! But a deeper hurt has been done to Perry, beyond merely being made to feel that he's Too Much...
“You need to go slower,” Perry repeated, his face heating with mortification. “I’m not one of those clever fellows like you who can write quickly.” He forced a chuckle. “I was a bit of a dunce at school.”
He's not eloquent or even terribly articulate in his speech, and not a very intellectually inclined sort, but not (as Lysander knows of old) slow-witted or dumb. In his classes, however, he was rather thought less of and certainly belittled by his harridan of a mother. He bears terrible emotional scars because of this, and is very sure that someone like the garrulous swan-like Jonny Mainwaring, fey and dandyish and a riot of color and sound, would sooner be dead than than spend time with him.
Jonny is suffering from the fey, dandyish man's usual problem with other men: What appeals to them at the start makes them absolutely mad as hornets by the end. Jonny's an artiste, you see, on top of being less than a manly man. He's accustomed to that being a Very Bad Thing...and here's this large, lovable lummox of a Perry practically blushing himself into a stroke every time Jonny so much as smiles at him! And seems unable to utter a sound...except in extremis, as the two decide it's time to get it on.
When Jonny’s tongue slid against his own, Perry’s cock jerked. It felt hard enough to hammer nails into a board...
–and–
No. No, {Jonny} would not be going down that road again. Before he bound himself to anyone else, he had to sort himself out. He was a grown man who should be capable of standing on his own two feet. And if it turned out that he could not get his own wild feelings under control, well, perhaps he was better off alone.
Ahh, there it is...the Fuckening! How to screw stuff up without really trying. Okay, they're both young, one does need to forgive them for the collywobbles. And, of course, neither one can be honest with the other because they can barely be honest with themselves! These are the pains of loving before you're experienced in it, and it was a lot harder to gain experience in that time. So, well, the dance does go on...and all because some thoughtless clod hurt Jonny, who then failed to fail to pass it on to the sensitive studmuffin that is Perry.
A trip away from their base to visit Jonny's friends Sam and Jasper (see review above) has the two spending an idyllic and blissful day driving (Perry loves to drive his curricle, Jonny is amazed that he enjoys riding in the curricle with Perry when he has always hated riding in carriages) and eating together and then having a lovely visit with Sam and Jasper. The two of them are leaving for Italy soon, and they've asked Jonny to join them...a lovely offer, a place Jonny would love to visit, but he says no and offers his usual "I'm a bad traveler" excuses. This leads Perry, in his cups, to offer quite simply, sincerely, and beautifully to be Jonny's help and comfort through the horrors (to Jonny, not to Perry) of the journey.
The very most horrible thing then occurs. Jonny says a dismissive and cutting "no, thank you, I couldn't possibly impose on your kindness" rejection. "I know...KNOW...this is not going to end the way it is heading," thinks I. But just in case, I started sharpening my kitana and digging around for those ninja stars I got for that one Yule. "I might need to travel to England soon, on an unrelated topic. Do not be alarmed if I am gone some time," I posted, making plans to cause much, much trouble for A Badly Behaved Author.
Oh me of little faith. No, Author Chambers did not break the remaining parts of the Readers' Rights Agreement (Romance subhead). What a relief. And yes, the ending while happy was not without flaw...I felt it was rushed, and presumed that Perry would be much more forgiving on a much shorter time-frame than I found entirely believable...but it delivered the goods: These two delightfully different men are Together and will stay that way.
So, it was labourious wading through the w-bombs, but the conclusion lived up to my desires. You need to be in the mood for fears and doubts to get the full effect from the read. I think it's very worthwhile to take the trip. show less
Perry is a Chelsea-bun hero all right, plain on the outside but fruity and spicy all the way through. (That's the period-appropriate term for a Cinnamon Roll hero, don't you know...since Chelsea buns were first made in the eighteenth century, unlike show more cinnamon rolls.) He's ooey-gooey sweet, with that large, lumbering man charm that seems to center on not fitting the furniture:
He was sitting in a spindly little chair, at a spindly little desk in the morning room. It was probably a lady’s desk and part of the effects of the house Adam had purchased when he’d bought the estate. Had the previous occupants been elves, Perry wondered? Most of the chairs in the house seemed to be too small for him.
Been there, Brother Man, been there and hated the view. Dinky little people need to understand that they are not the proper measure of the world! But a deeper hurt has been done to Perry, beyond merely being made to feel that he's Too Much...
“You need to go slower,” Perry repeated, his face heating with mortification. “I’m not one of those clever fellows like you who can write quickly.” He forced a chuckle. “I was a bit of a dunce at school.”
He's not eloquent or even terribly articulate in his speech, and not a very intellectually inclined sort, but not (as Lysander knows of old) slow-witted or dumb. In his classes, however, he was rather thought less of and certainly belittled by his harridan of a mother. He bears terrible emotional scars because of this, and is very sure that someone like the garrulous swan-like Jonny Mainwaring, fey and dandyish and a riot of color and sound, would sooner be dead than than spend time with him.
Jonny is suffering from the fey, dandyish man's usual problem with other men: What appeals to them at the start makes them absolutely mad as hornets by the end. Jonny's an artiste, you see, on top of being less than a manly man. He's accustomed to that being a Very Bad Thing...and here's this large, lovable lummox of a Perry practically blushing himself into a stroke every time Jonny so much as smiles at him! And seems unable to utter a sound...except in extremis, as the two decide it's time to get it on.
When Jonny’s tongue slid against his own, Perry’s cock jerked. It felt hard enough to hammer nails into a board...
–and–
No. No, {Jonny} would not be going down that road again. Before he bound himself to anyone else, he had to sort himself out. He was a grown man who should be capable of standing on his own two feet. And if it turned out that he could not get his own wild feelings under control, well, perhaps he was better off alone.
Ahh, there it is...the Fuckening! How to screw stuff up without really trying. Okay, they're both young, one does need to forgive them for the collywobbles. And, of course, neither one can be honest with the other because they can barely be honest with themselves! These are the pains of loving before you're experienced in it, and it was a lot harder to gain experience in that time. So, well, the dance does go on...and all because some thoughtless clod hurt Jonny, who then failed to fail to pass it on to the sensitive studmuffin that is Perry.
A trip away from their base to visit Jonny's friends Sam and Jasper (see review above) has the two spending an idyllic and blissful day driving (Perry loves to drive his curricle, Jonny is amazed that he enjoys riding in the curricle with Perry when he has always hated riding in carriages) and eating together and then having a lovely visit with Sam and Jasper. The two of them are leaving for Italy soon, and they've asked Jonny to join them...a lovely offer, a place Jonny would love to visit, but he says no and offers his usual "I'm a bad traveler" excuses. This leads Perry, in his cups, to offer quite simply, sincerely, and beautifully to be Jonny's help and comfort through the horrors (to Jonny, not to Perry) of the journey.
The very most horrible thing then occurs. Jonny says a dismissive and cutting "no, thank you, I couldn't possibly impose on your kindness" rejection. "I know...KNOW...this is not going to end the way it is heading," thinks I. But just in case, I started sharpening my kitana and digging around for those ninja stars I got for that one Yule. "I might need to travel to England soon, on an unrelated topic. Do not be alarmed if I am gone some time," I posted, making plans to cause much, much trouble for A Badly Behaved Author.
Oh me of little faith. No, Author Chambers did not break the remaining parts of the Readers' Rights Agreement (Romance subhead). What a relief. And yes, the ending while happy was not without flaw...I felt it was rushed, and presumed that Perry would be much more forgiving on a much shorter time-frame than I found entirely believable...but it delivered the goods: These two delightfully different men are Together and will stay that way.
So, it was labourious wading through the w-bombs, but the conclusion lived up to my desires. You need to be in the mood for fears and doubts to get the full effect from the read. I think it's very worthwhile to take the trip. show less
Rating: 4.5* of five
Yes indeed, this is the way to end a series/long book. A completely satisfying and inevitable ending that managed to come about in a logical and challenging way.
The lead-up to the ending ain't half bad, either, but it's this ending...won't spoiler it for y'all, the Despoilerization Brigade gets downright violent...that explains why I connected with this series of Regency-set books.
How to explain without giving the show away...geez...this is as rough as explaining what the show more fuss about non-masturbatory orgasms is to one who has never had one...okay, lemme see here, you know how your intimate loved one has this set of things you know they do and do well? Your Lovely Other, as a Kiwi friend of mine refers to her partner, operates in this expected way and you're happy with that (or you're the Remodeler and should be excoriated and shunned, if you don't like the house don't buy it), even proud of the high end of the range of behaviors.
Then comes the day when there's a lot at stake, the high end of the range that you love in them isn't going to solve all the problems but hey, pobody's nerfect, and...
...
...they come ripping through good enough and fly up to jaw-dropping otherworldly excellence-cum-terrifying gut-wrenching omigawd-we're-gonna-die recklessness...
...
...and there you are arms outstretched to catch them when the inevitable fall comes, praying you're strong enough to keep them at least alive...
...
...and they land light as a feather next to you, take your hand, smile and say, "shall we go home now, dear?"
And that, my friends, is that. You will never, ever look at another human being without thinking, "you poor miserable sod, My Very Own Love doesn't know you're alive but can't wait to get home to *me*," with a smug, superior smirk on your nasty little unfairly-lucky-rotter face.
Fortunately we have fiction to take us there. It's not the most common IRL experience, is it. This series/fairly long novel gave me that experience. Read the three main novels and it's just possible it might give you the same one. I encourage you to try at least volume 1, [Provoked].
*cue evil cackle and commence addictive reading in 3...2...1...* show less
Yes indeed, this is the way to end a series/long book. A completely satisfying and inevitable ending that managed to come about in a logical and challenging way.
The lead-up to the ending ain't half bad, either, but it's this ending...won't spoiler it for y'all, the Despoilerization Brigade gets downright violent...that explains why I connected with this series of Regency-set books.
How to explain without giving the show away...geez...this is as rough as explaining what the show more fuss about non-masturbatory orgasms is to one who has never had one...okay, lemme see here, you know how your intimate loved one has this set of things you know they do and do well? Your Lovely Other, as a Kiwi friend of mine refers to her partner, operates in this expected way and you're happy with that (or you're the Remodeler and should be excoriated and shunned, if you don't like the house don't buy it), even proud of the high end of the range of behaviors.
Then comes the day when there's a lot at stake, the high end of the range that you love in them isn't going to solve all the problems but hey, pobody's nerfect, and...
...
...they come ripping through good enough and fly up to jaw-dropping otherworldly excellence-cum-terrifying gut-wrenching omigawd-we're-gonna-die recklessness...
...
...and there you are arms outstretched to catch them when the inevitable fall comes, praying you're strong enough to keep them at least alive...
...
...and they land light as a feather next to you, take your hand, smile and say, "shall we go home now, dear?"
And that, my friends, is that. You will never, ever look at another human being without thinking, "you poor miserable sod, My Very Own Love doesn't know you're alive but can't wait to get home to *me*," with a smug, superior smirk on your nasty little unfairly-lucky-rotter face.
Fortunately we have fiction to take us there. It's not the most common IRL experience, is it. This series/fairly long novel gave me that experience. Read the three main novels and it's just possible it might give you the same one. I encourage you to try at least volume 1, [Provoked].
*cue evil cackle and commence addictive reading in 3...2...1...* show less
Rating: 4.75* of five
I am much closer to seventy than I am to fifty. As hard as that fact is to swallow...Alanis Morissette and her bloody "Jagged Little Pill" begone!...it is the truth. And a corollary of that truth is that one becomes pretty much invisible at this age. My Young Gentleman Caller, unwilling to lie to my face, spins it as his insurance policy: Pretty young things don't look at me, so he doesn't have to stalk them with murderous intent!
I might be an old bastard, but I'm a show more *lucky* old bastard. And here I am bragging about it to the world. It feels right to do that in a review of Restored, though, because while neither of the heroes (they are indeed heroes) are anything like as old as I am, they're old for their time (fifty was elderly in Regency times, and Henry's forty-seven) and not slowing down a bit. Henry, Duke of Avesbury, and Christopher Redford shared a passion as young men and, after two decades, find each other and wonderingly work their way through a shared past that never went as either would've wanted it to.
Gawddam, it feels so fucking good to read something Romance-wise that mirrors so many of my own experiences being an old crock!
That's really it, and I ought to belt up and go have some hot milk and toast for my supper, but there is quite a bit to say yet. And I say it here. (Too long, y'all won't likely read it all anyway.) show less
I am much closer to seventy than I am to fifty. As hard as that fact is to swallow...Alanis Morissette and her bloody "Jagged Little Pill" begone!...it is the truth. And a corollary of that truth is that one becomes pretty much invisible at this age. My Young Gentleman Caller, unwilling to lie to my face, spins it as his insurance policy: Pretty young things don't look at me, so he doesn't have to stalk them with murderous intent!
I might be an old bastard, but I'm a show more *lucky* old bastard. And here I am bragging about it to the world. It feels right to do that in a review of Restored, though, because while neither of the heroes (they are indeed heroes) are anything like as old as I am, they're old for their time (fifty was elderly in Regency times, and Henry's forty-seven) and not slowing down a bit. Henry, Duke of Avesbury, and Christopher Redford shared a passion as young men and, after two decades, find each other and wonderingly work their way through a shared past that never went as either would've wanted it to.
Gawddam, it feels so fucking good to read something Romance-wise that mirrors so many of my own experiences being an old crock!
That's really it, and I ought to belt up and go have some hot milk and toast for my supper, but there is quite a bit to say yet. And I say it here. (Too long, y'all won't likely read it all anyway.) show less
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