Jennifer Stevenson

First, the disclaimer: my idea of hell is to be locked in a room with nothing to read except Danielle Steel; I would not have open the first page of "King of Hearts," except that I felt obligated to read it before writing this promised review.

That said, Jennifer Stevenson’s drama novel reads like the work of an high school sophomore - albeit a quite accomplished sophomore. The book is adequately crafted to make it readable. The plot line flows smoothly, chapter to chapter in clear, if show more uninspired, prose. The characters are nearly believable and the dialog makes sense even if unauthentic.

Nadine Fisher is a no-longer-young, virgin waiting on tables at Liz Otter’s, a Greek restaurant neighboring a theater in a large city with a passion for King David Flaherty, a stage hand, only son of FX Flaherty, president of the local union. The plot begins with Nadine looking into the alley between Liz Otter’s and the theater and seeing King David in a compromising situation (what that situation was I’ll let you discover - Ms. Stevenson would not want it otherwise, I suspect).

Following are chapter after chapter of seduction mixed with subplots centering on King David’s relationship (or lack of) with his son from a previous marriage, and Nadine's relationship (or lack of) with her pastor father. From a “titillating:”
...not before she saw it: an entire box of condoms, size maximum, smashed, scuffed, leaking foil packets. He rolled in her lap to look up at her with a guilty look.
She let her lashes fall over her eyes. “I know what you are, King Dave.”

to:
He’s kissing me by the garbage can, she thought, while choirs of angels tweeted overhead like a crown of stars and redhot lava went blurp somewhere down below her tummy. When she dared, she let herself feel how warm and soft and dry his lips were. Her lips sizzled. It was only a gentle kiss.

Culminating in:
At some point, over the murmurs of onlookers, the
limp priest said, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

You may enjoy reading "King of Hearts," but as for me, I’m putting it in that locked room in my hell. show less

I first read Jennifer Stevenson when I was in grad school and picked up The Brass Bed for much-needed entertainment. I loved her mix of smart women, humor, and hot sex. That has not changed in Dancing with Cupid, as it has all that plus a story dependent on the Hindu/Indian culture. I really enjoyed the driven heroine Rathi who turns out to be the latest incarnation of a Hindu goddess. Of course she meets her Hindu-god husband Kama who is a slacker in this life, providing for a fun contrast show more in lifestyles. The path to their HEA is not without several bumps, including the death of Kama, but it all works out. Now I want to read the rest in the Slacker Demons series! show less

Hel is an energy vampire, barely keeping herself fed on the stale prana she breathes from rush hour commuters and tiny sips from her hyperactive students and roller derby team. But a federal agent investigating the rise of magic in Chicago has her in his sights, and Hel wants to give in to her cravings.

Why I picked it up: The urban fantasy element led me to request it from Early Reviewers.

Why I finished it: The Hinky Chicago setting reminds me of the Cleveland Portal novels. This is romance, show more not noir, so I didn't like it quite as well. But Stevenson has a wry sense of humor, and she uses language well. And she writes a great paranormal sex scene.

Hel is pretty messed up psychologically. The plot gives her the tools she needs to sort her shit out, which she does, but this presents a problem for this new series: either Hel is a completely different character moving forward, or the development she achieves in this story is phony, and she'll go on as a tedious, stunted caricature. I'm probably not invested enough to jump on the next episode, but likely will check in again in the future.

I'd give it to: Linn and Deb, who like their vampire ladies tough but vulnerable. show less

Trash Sex Magic is about, well, what's in the title. The magical stability of a riverside part of land is in trouble, and can only be solved with sexual magic. Which might sound like the book's just an excuse for lots of shallow humping. Except for the part where Stevenson has written a cast of great, real characters, has made her magic dark and troublesome, has a plot that keeps moving, and treats sex as a complicated and integral part of the book's characters. I had trouble putting this show more one down at night. show less