Rules of Surrender (Governess Brides, Book 1)

I read this book because I enjoy Dodd's way with dialog, and I thought a governess-employer relationship offered lots of opportunity for verbal sparring, a la Victoria Holt's Mistress of Mellyn. Was I in for a disappointment! The hero, if you want to call him that, is a bone-headed neanderthal who spent his years from age fourteen onward with a tribe of Bedouins who taught him a) to survive in the desert and b) to believe women were chattel, impossible to love. When he finally decides to return home to his grieving, if scatterbrained, mother, he immediately selects his children's governess as the woman for him, and so sets about socially humiliating her and sexually molesting her until she is forced to marry him. Even his mother calls him a "jackass." This caveman carts his new bride off to a tent after they are wed, rips her wedding clothes of off her with a knife, and rapes her. Never fear, we are told she liked it. As she wondered later, "What kind of primitive creature lived in her heart, craving his mastery?" Indeed, I wonder, too. A psychotherapist would have a field day with this crowd. The story line of workplace sexual harassment circa 1830 is fleshed out with a supposed embezzling scheme and the heroine's fruitless task of civilizing the hero. The embezzling angle is wrapped up in less than a paragraph, and the "civilizing" theme is very sketchy--on one hand, we are supposed to believe the hero is a hot-blooded shiekh of the desert who somehow forgot everything he learned prior to age fourteen, and on the other hand we are told he plays 'stupid savage' just to be sure to get his own way. Finally, his children (!) assure our dysfunctional hero that yes, indeed, he does love his bride. Supposely a light bulb goes on over his head, and he is a Changed Man, yet we are told once again that "reluctant maidens should be kidnapped." The only way to really enjoy this uncomfortable, illogical tale is to take it as some sort of spoof of 1970's-era bodice-rippers, and laugh off all of our hero's caveman behavior as if it were just a pie in the face. Good Luck.

I'm going to be honest. Christina Dodd has long been on my list of favorite authors of romance fiction. The Governess series was my first foray into the genre, back in the day. While I intend to give Ms. Dodd another chance, I remember liking this book a lot better back then. Perhaps because I got into romance novels after my roommate and I got dumped from long-term relationships in the span of the same weekend, so we cheered ourselves up by buying a bunch of romance novels and trading them back and forth throughout the week. So perhaps I wasn't really paying much attention to what I read.

With a shiny new Kindle in hand this Christmas, I decided to start at the beginning and re-read some novels I have particularly enjoyed in the past. Reading through "Rules of Surrender" again, I have to wonder...what was I thinking? Is the Kindle book an inherently different novel than the physical copy I read back then? Or, as a teenager, did I just not use critical reasoning skills when I read novels? I'm suddenly ashamed of my younger self.

The "hero" is one of the least likeable of any I've come across in romance novels. A lot of his dialogue is downright laughable. It reminds me of Khal Drogo from A Game of Thrones...only bad. Way, WAY more over the top. I couldn't understand why the heroine would ever fall in love with such an ass...or even how she could take him seriously. (Honestly, if I'd read him call his child, "Fruit of my loins!" one more time, my eyes would have rolled out of my head. And that's just ONE example of the ludicrousness of the dialogue. Bear in mind, this character lived in England until he was in his TEENS.)

There really wasn't a single character in this book that I really LIKED. Other than perhaps the children, who were generally okay. But if I'm reading a romance novel and am finding the CHILDREN to be the most engaging part, there's something seriously wrong. I didn't have any big objections to Adorna, the grandmother, but I didn't end up really thinking one way or another about her. For being in the book a significant amount, she was something of a non-entity to me.

The heroine is...very proper. And not a great deal of fun. I can't think of a single moment in the book that made me smile, but if there was, it certainly didn't come from her character. I honestly cannot think of a heroine in any romance I've ever read that was so singularly unamusing. She has no sense of humor that I could discern. Then again, if I were tied to this "hero" in a novel, I wouldn't be laughing, either.

Yet, as bland as the heroine is, she is LEAGUES above the "hero". Given that she's a bit "bottom of the barrel" that's saying something. The "hero" is an arrogant, conceited ass. Granted, it's pretty common for a hero to START a novel that way, but when he's no different 90% in as he was in the first chapter, that's a huge problem. On my Kindle, this book is 200 pages. On page 189, the "hero" is no less of an arrogant, self-centered, conceited jackass than he was on page 18. Typically, even if the HEROINE thinks that the hero doesn't love her at this point in a novel (as the "reveal" often comes quite late in these books), the AUDIENCE knows differently. But when Charlotte thinks he doesn't love her, I find myself right there with her.

Happily (?), this situation is eventually resolved (on page 194 of 200). The children say, "But you DO love her! You're ENGLISH!" and his reaction is to essentially go, "Egads, I suppose you're right! Suddenly, I remember my biological father for perhaps the first time in this entire novel, and I have seen the light!" So...that's...believable. I guess. Well, believable or not, it's what we're left with. (The author also seems to realize the absurdity inherent in this "development" because the heroine's response to his profession of love is, "He didn't mean it. He couldn't have changed his mind in so little time. Yet he looked earnest enough, and she couldn't imagine why he would lie." Charlotte replies to his declaration, "Really?" Which was exactly my response, though I said it in I'm sure a different tone than the author intended the heroine to utter this word.)

The development of the "romance" is completely unsettling. The "hero" forces her to marry him by publicly humiliating and compromising her, knowing she will be left with no recourse but to marry him. She agrees to marry him because she knows that it's either that or flee the continent. The romance practically drips off the page with that basic premise. Bear in mind - AGAIN - that this is fairly late into the book. It's not like this happens in chapter 2 and the rest of the book is about the two of them growing together. She swears that she'll not be a wife to him, so he 1) shoots open the door to her room, 2) carries her like a sack of potatoes to a bed, and 3) when she refuses to undress, he whips out a knife and literally cuts her clothes off of her.

When I read the sentence, "He pointed his knife at her. She gave in to panic and ran," my heart nearly palpatated out of my chest. Not in the way the author intended, however. And when I later read, "You are a good" - rip! - "civilized" - rip! "dutiful lady of England. ... You will submit to your husband as the law and custom demand," I thought I would swoon from the sheer amount of ROMANCE that imagery instilled in me.

I'll be honest. This is not the first scene I've read in romance novels where the author writes a scene that could come off or does come off like a rape scene but the author intends for it not to be. I have no doubt that's NOT how the author intended for this scene to come off. However...she failed. Epically. I can't even understand how she didn't realize how badly she'd missed the mark. At this point in the book, the heroine thinks the "hero" doesn't love her, that he views her as property, and that he cares absolutely NOTHING for her as anything more than a piece of property and a sexual conquest. And, at this point in the book, the "HERO" believes (and in every way reinforces this belief such that I think he's probably right in his belief) that he doesn't love her, that he views her as essentially his property, and that he cares absolutely NOTHING for her as anything more than a piece of property and a sexual conquest.

When you have established that a "hero" views his new wife in this fashion, he has categorically ignored her protests to his sexual advances and done as he darn well pleased, and he starts the sex scene by saying, "This is my day. You are my wife. I will do with you as I please," well...how is this to come off as anything BUT a rape scene? Oh, *I* know why! Because she secretly LIKES it! Her body responds to his actions, so that makes it okay! It's not rape! (What a lovely - and incidentally inaccurate - message to send.)

Even following this scene, the "hero" cares so little for the heroine that when she tries - yet AGAIN - to tell him why she's unhappy and what she wants from him (for him to love her and NOT treat her as "not the center of his universe, but a convenience to make his life easier, a mere planet dependent on the mighty sun" ... when she tells him that he'll put her in a little mental compartment and so she'll essentially do the same, he laughs in her face. He literally laughs at her and says, in essence, "No you won't! You like having sex with me too much!" And, somehow, that "scores a direct hit" with her.

Incidentally, the "hero"'s advice for his mother's suitor, when he's told that Adorna wants an affair, not a marriage, is "abduct her." Then he goes on and on about how it's the proper and best thing to do. The author treats this advice as being perfectly acceptable, as the "hero" then talks about how Bedouins will abduct a woman from another tribe, drag these women off into the desert, and keep them there until they are so overcome by the strength of the abductor's passion that they fall desperately in love with them. Ms. Dodd, I have only this to ask: What. The. Frack?

I don't even know what else I can say to explain just how unimaginably BAD this book is. Even if you can get past the "plot" (there's some sort of embezzlement going on. Don't worry about it, because it's generally forgotten through the book until it's resolved at the end in THE most ludicrous way ever) and the HORRIFYING character "development" (which doesn't exist. The "hero" starts off as a scumwad and ends up as a scumwad, until a light-switched epiphany makes it all okay), the writing is sub-par for a Dodd book. If you don't believe me, I point out this example: "Wynter bounded up the stairs to her side. His fair hair and his earring glittered almost white with his wrath." If anyone can explain to me how someone's hair and earring can "glitter with wrath" - or how one's wrath can somehow transfer itself into one's hair and jewelry to make it glitter more brightly than it otherwise might...I will retract this entire review.

If you want my recommendation, do yourself a favor and skip this book.

I did not enjoy this book one bit. Honestly, I got about 1/3 of the way through it, put it down for several weeks, then picked it up again when I was home sick. My main problems with the novel are as follows:

1. Wynter does not appeal to me at all. He is self-centered, puerile, and lacks any sense of humor that bases itself on anything but someone else's embarrassments. I kept hoping he would redeem himself by the end of the novel, that he would grow as a person and mature into a charming gentleman, yet he failed in all these aspects. He is a womanizer who did not deserve Charlotte's love, not that I think too much of Charlotte in the first place.

2. There was very little character development. Wynter was, essentially, a static character whose beliefs in the beginning of the novel failed to change over the course of the story. It was difficult to get a grasp on why he felt the way he felt. Granted, his "desert father" taught him that that was the way true men behaved, I'm still not buying it. I suppose that was my over all problem with the novel.

I didn't buy the attraction between Charlotte and Wynter, and with a romance, that is the key to the entire book - getting the reader to buy into the love affair between the two main characters. I would not recommend this book, nor will I be buying anymore of Ms. Dodd's novels.

Lady Charlotte Dalrumple (also known as Miss Priss) has the unenviable task of civilizing two children who have known only life in a Bedouin tribe until their father decides that it's time to return to his family responsibilities in 19th century England. The children, however, turn out to be a piece of cake - it's their father who is truly the beast. Although he lived his first fifteen years in England, he seems to have lost his civilized English veneer and he's wholeheartedly assimilated a thoroughly male-centric world view: men are like the sun, and women revolve around the sun, loving it and drawing from its warmth and protection. Of course, "everyone" knows the sun doesn't love those that orbit it - its job is only to stay strong, warm, and functional. Picture Miss Priss trying to teach this man (because she ends up getting drawn in to becoming his governess, too) how to conduct himself in polite Victorian society, when HE has already decided that she is need of his warmth and protection (and it doesn't hurt that he likes her body, too), and you have the story.
I liked the plot, but I found that the characters were not always as likable. Lady Charlotte often came across as a thoroughly neurotic woman who developed a load of guilt for something fairly tame (however, I suppose Victorian England really was that repressed - I just kept waiting for us to learn about a far juicier past than she turned out to have). I found Lord Ruskin surprisingly dense, for a man portrayed with a fair amount of native intelligence. However, the conversations between these two sparkled, and the sexual scenes were slowly and wickedly developed. I stifled a laugh at the vision of Lady Charlotte falling off her chair in panic, in front of Queen Victoria - the author has a gift for painting pictures with words! All in all, an enjoyable read.

Lady Charlotte Dalrumple has been known to have the magic touch with difficult debutantes. So nobody is surprised when a lovely viscountess offers to pay her a large sum to whip her half-savage grandchildren into shape. But she is shocked speechless when she meets the children's father, who has lived among the Bedouin most of his adult life. . . and then discovers that the real reason she was brought there was to tutor HIM in the social graces!
Unfortunately, Lord Wynter Ruskin seems to anticipate her every move and find a thousand different reasons to proclaim the Bedouin way of doing things more civilized than the British. The corset, for example. He is determined to get Lady Charlotte out of hers, for he has decided that she will be his next wife.
Lady Charlotte, however attracted physically to Lord Ruskin, scorns the Bedouin idea that men do not love their wives. She fears being trapped in a loveless marriage and taken for granted by her husband. . . as more of a possession than a mate. Although it is obvious that Lord Ruskin does indeed love her--some men do seem to have difficulty saying the words women want to hear--Lady Charlotte is right to insist upon it. It isn't until Lord Ruskin sees how much her unhappiness upsets him that he realizes that he does indeed love her. . . and that the Bedouin who taught him otherwise was a coward who never knew what he missed.
Christina Dodd has done it again. . . a truly delicious romance with a nice mixture of sensuality and humor. You won't want to put it down!

Silly Adorna from That Scandalous Evening is now all grown up, a widow, a grandmother and in need of a very good governess. She turns to The Distinguished Academy of Governesses to help her with her little problem. Her little problem being two unruly grandchildren and a son who needs a proper education as to how to act like a gentleman in society.
In comes Lady Charlotte Dalruple, England's most proper governess, a woman who has never taken a misstep socially-or romantically. When Adorna's sadly uncivilized son first sets eyes on Charlotte he is smitter and determined to have her as a wife and in his bed as soon as possible. Charlotte and Wynter play a good game of merry-go-round until Wynter badly tarnishes the beautiful young governess's reputation with a kiss. (oh for shame!)
Rules of Surrender was a good book but it just didn't have what That Scandalous Evening had. While enjoyable, I never really connected with the characters. If you enjoy a good Christina Dodd this is a book that can't be missed, but be prepared for a little bit of a letdown.

The Rules of Surrender by Christina Dodd captured my full attention from the first page. I had a wonderful time reading this story. There are so many interesting and exciting characters in the book. You never know quite what Wynter or his children will say next.
Lady Charlotte Dalrumple is a lady who is down on her luck. She and two friends have opened a business and Adorna Ruskin is their first customer. Adorna needs a paragon of propriety to teach her grandchildren how to behave correctly in polite society. Charlotte is more than qualified for the position hence her nickname "Ms. Priss".
Lord Wynter Ruskin has just returned from El Bahar a desert country. He has apparently lost all of his gentlemanly qualities. To make matters worst his two children are wild knife throwing hellions.
Charlotte is both fascinated and awed by Wynter but she is determined to do her duty. She will not let Wynter and his children prevent her from instructing them in correct behavior. Wynter is determined that Charlotte will become his future wife while she adamantly refuses.
The story is wonderful and the characters eventually realize they love each other more than anything. Some of the scenes in the story are absolutely hysterical. I really enjoyed reading this book.

Romance is a guilty pleasure of mine. This book - literally - made me nauseous. Essentially rape in the guise of romance and marriage. I was willing to follow along until the "hero" forced himself on the heroin, her body's response making it somehow acceptable even though she said no and fought and cried after their marriage. I skimmed the rest of the book hoping there was some sort of redemption, but no.

I read the Governess Bride Series out of order (Books 2, 3 then 1). I advise skipping straight to #2 (the best of the bunch - a keeper.) You'll learn enough about the basis for the stories and won't have to endure this first one. I suspect this book has received a lot of high ratings because there is some very witty writing in the dialog between some of the characters, especially at the beginning -- something Dodd does really well. But this story's hero is totally one-dimensional and shows no emotional growth or development through out the story - until the last 5 pages of the book and by then, his character development has been so shallow that when he has a change of heart, it seems ridiculous (the least believable of any romance novel I've read). Plain and simple, it is bad writing and a boring read.

PLUS, on their wedding night, the hero forces his wife to have sex, waves a gun at one point and uses a knife to her clothing at another. Sorry folks, but IMHO there was absolutely nothing sexy about any of that.

P.S. Governess Brides #3 is okay, not as good as #2, but at least it has an interesting plot line especially compared to #1.

I have not read too many books by Christina Dodd, but the ones I had read prior to Rules of Surrender were wonderful. This book simply made me angry. Our hero has been off with the bedoins in the Sahara for 13 years or so and has adopted their annoying male chauvinism. I found nothing lovable about Wynter and could not figure out what their love or attraction was supposed to be based on. What are we supposed to see in him? Charlotte does not seem to like him and yet decides she's in love with him. He was overbearing and seemed to browbeat her into submission. He had awful opinions about women and their subservient roles and second class emotions. To top it all off, the love scenes were all coerced and read like rape fantasies . . . definitely off putting.
I did not enjoy this book. I spent the whole time reading it expecting her to slap him and yell at him, which never happened.