The Soldier’s Scoundrel, Cat Sebastian

Jack Turner is sort of a private detective, sort of an agent of poetic justice, handling messes that higher-class society folks want sweeping under the rug — an abusive husband, a case of blackmail, stolen items… He clashes with Oliver Rivington, a soldier in need of lawful stability after the war, after helping Oliver’s sister out with such a problem, and I honestly expected sparks to fly much more than they did. It’s such an easy source of conflict for a romantic relationship: their morals differ so much! They’re opposed on a fundamental level!

And indeed, it is part of the conflict — but part of the joy of the book is in fact that Oliver considers his errors, reconsiders his position, and unbends enough to listen to Jack’s point of view. It’s not his way or the highway; even when he briefly thinks it might has to be, he’s still open to communication.

Is their burgeoning relationship a heaven of perfect communication, the meeting of like minds? Nope. Oliver still balks at some of Jack’s opinions and methods, and Jack for his part has a lifetime of trauma that shapes how he sees Oliver’s thoughts and actions. Each has to bend a little, and make efforts, to make the thing work, but it all feels more gentle and more intimate because Oliver is prepared to bend, prepared to apologise, prepared to live at Jack’s level. I cared about their relationship all the more because the conflict wasn’t straight-forward, because Oliver wasn’t prepared to let it go too easily, and wasn’t too proud to apologise — and Jack wasn’t too proud to accept it.

Overall, I found this really enjoyable. Jack’s approach to justice isn’t mine, but it makes sense for his life, and Oliver’s acceptance of it makes sense as well, and their relationship genuinely feels built on more than just headlong attraction between two stubborn assholes who won’t talk to each other — which can be lacking in other romances, where I wonder how on earth they’ll get on in the long run given they spent a whole book refusing to bend only to have a dramatic rapprochement at the end.

Rating: 4/5

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb, Cat Sebastian

I pounced on this as soon as it came out, of course, and wasn’t disappointed. There’s a bit of a vibe of K.J. Charles’ Any Old Diamonds about the plot (except I guess it may also be reminding me of The Gentle Art of Fortune-Hunting, in some ways), and I’m totally here for that, any time. The relationship between the two leads is very different to that book, with far less power-play (and less cold-blooded criminality), but there’s an element of getting your own back that’s delicious.

Speaking of the relationship between the two leads, it’s a sweet one. It takes quite a long time to develop, though the seeds are obvious from the start in their strong physical attraction to one another. The best part, of course, is the slow development of trust between them, despite their disparate backgrounds, despite the harsh parts of their past.

There were a few twists and turns that I spotted coming, but nonetheless made shocked noises when they did happen, because oh! no! how dare! etc. So that was fun, and in general it was just everything I needed — if, in the end, the happy ever after felt rather easy to come by, I completely didn’t mind, because I was charmed by the characters. And in this plague year 2020-gone-2021, we can all do with some happy endings. I don’t want to talk too much about why I felt it was easy to come by, because that’s a spoiler, but suffice it to say that it’s very neat. It feels believable for the characters, but people usually find it harder to make wholesale changes like that!

Rating: 3/5