Friday, August 2, 2019

Short Book Reviews: Paranormal Romance Reads Like Failed Thriller, or Vice Versa

American Witch (American Witch: Book 1), by Thea Harrison (Victory Editing NetGalley Co-Op)

I read a little romance and a lot of fantasy, so I tend to prefer stories that are heavy on magic/plot/dramatic tension and tender love stories, and light on heaving bosoms and overwhelming lust for inappropriate partners. So now you know my prejudices.

American Witch begins promisingly enough with forty-something Molly Sullivan discovering that her attorney husband has been unfaithful to her . . . again. She wigs out, confronts him before the senior partner of his firm, the newly elected District Attorney, and all the guests at their elegant party, throws the contents of their safe into her suitcase, and decamps. From there, matters spin utterly out of control as she discovers banking records for an account in the Seychelles and her soon-to-be-ex comes after her in a near-lethal attack. She fights back, using magical Powers she had no idea she possessed. Soon she’s entangled with Josiah Mason, the above-mentioned DA, who is an ancient, powerful witch himself, and has gathered a coven to track down and eliminate an even older and very wicked witch (one of whose past lives will be immediately recognizable). In other words, the story hits the ground running.

Alas, all that action comes to a near halt as Molly and Josiah become increasingly mired in their mutual lust and repulsion. Finally they tumble into bed together, drenched in overwhelming sexual need, with tons of pretty nicely described sexual acts. There’s even a brief discussion about birth control, for which the author would get a gold star from me except it’s not about responsible, mutually respectful sex, it’s a set-up for the inevitable contraceptive failure and resulting pregnancy.


At this point, the thriller-type action comes to a screeching halt, ditto the story of how Molly learns to control and value her magical Power. Instead we have scene after scene of graphically depicted obsessive sex punctuated by statements of distrust and rejection, with only an occasional nod to Molly being a strong, independent woman. I felt as if I’d signed up for one reading experience – an urban fantasy thriller with a touch of romance – and gotten dropped into a not-so-soft porn romance.

Eventually the chain of events that opened the book catch up with the lovers, but not before Molly discovers she is pregnant, decides that as long as Josiah is bent on tracking down this ancient and very bad witch he’s too dangerous to be around her and the baby, then reconnects with him, then decamps to a witches’ commune on the California coast, then reconnects, and so forth.

Molly’s magical education, upon which the climax of the story ultimately relies, comes way too late in the book. Josiah gives her a few bits of advice early on, and she practices but gains facility way too easily, then she learns magical herbology and a few other nifty tricks, then all of a sudden, she is in tune with “her” elements and skilled in wiccan-esque invocations. In fact, when she calls upon her various Power-skills, it seemed to me they were drawn out of a hat. This is a shame, because there was great potential in the Western coven, its lore, techniques, and characters. Molly-coming-into-her-own and Molly-finding-her-magical-family take a back seat to the sex scenes and the merry-go-round relationship.

As a reader and as a writer, I prefer eroticism to be evoked or suggested within the context of a fascinating relationship. I like characters who are comfortable with their sexuality but not incapacitated by it. So I had a problem with Molly and Josiah’s love life on several counts, as described above. The result is an imbalance in pacing and dramatic structure, with thriller-urban fantasy acting as book ends (beginning and end) to spicy romance.

The opening of a book is a contract between the author and the reader. The author shows the reader what kind of experience lies within the pages, but then must deliver; it doesn’t work to switch genres in mid-book, and as much as I liked the opening of American Witch, that was my experience of the overall book. I wished the author had made up her mind what kind of story she was telling.

On a more minor note, I found Molly’s pregnancy unbelievable. Certainly, pregnant women can be physically and dramatically active (with my first pregnancy, I worked full-time and trained in kung fu until my 8th month), especially during those months when she feels exceptionally well with a rush of hormone-fueled energy. Most women, however, feel different, whether it’s nauseated from morning sickness, aware of physical changes (breast size/texture/soreness, elevated heart rate, elevated body temperature, changes in joint/skin elasticity and center of gravity, and so forth). Molly never seemed pregnant to me, except for talking about it. Surely a witch in tune with moon phases and the ocean and so forth would be more aware of the significant transformation of her own body.

The usual disclaimer: I received a review copy of this book, but no one bribed me to say anything in particular about it, one way or the other.

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