Thanks to Meryl L Moss Media Associates I have a copy of A Creed in Stone Creek to give away to one of my US readers. To enter go here, and leave a comment.

Melissa O’Ballivan is Stone Creek’s prosecutor, and prides herself on her commitment to the law, her health, her family. In fact, the only area where Melissa struggles with commitment is with those of the male persuasion. Diamond rings? Children? The very thought makes Melissa run a mile–and that’s in addition to the two she runs every morning. Even the thought of looking after a pet makes her break out in hives (literally). So when defence lawyer Stephen Creed strides into town–and with kid and dog in tow, no less–Melissa’s first instinct is to make like an ostrich and stick her head very firmly in the sand. But Stone Creek is your quintessential small town, and it’s hard to avoid a newcomer, particularly when you share friends, family, and even a court case.

My thoughts

Regular readers of RIASS will know that I’m not an avid romance reader; in fact, I’m scarcely  more than a dabbler, with only a handful of romance reads to my name. But some quixotic, parochial inner part of me has a thing for small towns and the American South, and if you wave such a book in front of my nose, I’m all but guaranteed to pick it up. And let me say that A Creed in Stone Creek has all things southern and small-town in spades. In fact, this small-town mentality is so evident that I think a disclaimer is required at this point: this is the kind of book where you’ll need to check feminist and progressive attitudes at the door (a hard thing for me to do, admittedly). The book very much has a 1950s aesthetic to it, and with a feel not unlike something out of The Stepford Wives or Pleasantville. Delightful, chirpy families abound, all of them with doe-eyed children, cheerful pups, and attentive grandmothers in tow. The women dress in polka-dot dresses complete with ruffles (except for the octogenarian nudists, of course, but we won’t go there!), and are fabulous cooks, exemplary cleaners, and have spectacular gardens, while the men are utterly adoring of their spouses and children, boast huge arm muscles, and have respectable manly careers. There’s certainly an end goal in this book, and given the ubiquitous references to pregnancy, children, and all things related to breeding, it’s something along the lines of “go forth and multiply”.

One of the major foibles of our heroine, of course, is that she tries to avoid letting her uterus be her guiding force in life. But because of this, she has a job that, while fulfilling her desire to have an impressive qualification and a smart-sounding role, is generally less than inspiring; her culinary skills are limited to microwaving a frozen Weight Watchers dish; and her clothes contain things such as darts and tailoring, rather than ruffly goodness. It’s a bit of a painful contrast, and it’s hard not to take issue with the contrast between the hard-working spinster and the brownie-baking housewife. But this is a romance, after all, and I set aside my misgivings as best as possible (until the final chapter, but we’ll get to that in a bit).

Curiously, A Creed in Stone Creek is less a romance than a mainstream novel that contains some romantic elements. Steven Creed is for the most part more interested in renovating his newly purchased ranch and looking after his adopted (and Children of the Corn-like creepily precocious) son than he is in engaging in a romance. Besides that, his heart was once broken by a lawyer, so it’s pointless to go there again. It’s a slightly bizarre motivation, and one that brings to mind plenty of pouting and petulant expressions, but weirdly it’s the sort of motivation that’s rife throughout this book. While most of the characters are pleasant enough archetypes–the sort that you’d see on a daytime soap–our hero and heroine are wildly vascillating in their motivations, reasoning, and actions. They’re more up and down than a sine graph, and it’s hard not to be confused by the childish, nonsensical ways in which they act around each other. There’s a weird mix of the chaste and the promiscuous, and the rather out-of-the-blue raunchy scene in which they get down and do the dirty seems a touch odd after all of the ruffles and blueberry pies we’ve been reading about to this point. Moreover, while I accept that a romance necessarily has a scene in which the hero and heroine have to fight before getting back together again, the background for this in this book lacks believability, and the severity of the characters’ reactions (Melissa’s in particular) just seems bizarre. Refusing to talk to a man because he’s agreed to take on a court case as part of his job? Hmm.

While I managed to suspend my feminist leanings throughout Melissa’s existential and career-related struggles, I have to say that the ending of this book did manage to elicit a snort of indignation (or perhaps despair) from me, and resulted in a bit of a drop in my flashy little star rating below. While a happily-ever-after ending is requisite for this genre, the saccharine nature of this one has to be seen to be believed–and even then it’s hard to understand. Our man-loathing, career-oriented, culinarily-impaired, canine-allergic heroine suddenly switches to the dark side, quitting her job to work in a pet shelter, becoming a domestic goddess, eschewing her tailored slacks in favour of peasant dresses, and getting engaged right off the bat (and pregnant with, of course, twins, since one bun in the oven isn’t enough). All of this happens in the last five pages, making it all a touch difficult to fathom (and resulting in a slightly bilious taste in the reader’s mouth).

Still, on the whole, the novel flows well, and is comfortingly familiar. It doesn’t pack any punches, and you won’t find yourself struck by any narrative twists or complexities, but you’ll be able immerse yourself in the sweet-as-pie town of Stone Creek–complete with parade floats, diners, baking, and pet shelters–for a good few hours, and it’s all pleasant and aww-inducing enough. There are a few minor plotlines, such as that involving a teenaged recidivist and his slimy friends, that seem a little forced, and there’s a mystery element that would probably have been better left alone. In addition to that, there are quite a few scenes involving tiresomely mundane activities such as baking, getting dressed, going for a job, and putting petrol in the car that could have done with a bit of editorial excision, but overall, the novel is solid enough if very much reliant on cliches and archetypes. Oh, and the hero isn’t an alpha male, which is a relief!

Summary

For a warm and friendly read that doesn’t push the boundaries, but rather tries to take you back in time to a land of white picket fences and smiling wholesomeness, A Creed in Stone Creek is a solid read. Expect small-town shenanigans, all of your favourite archetypes, and plenty of lurve and family-oriented elements, but don’t expect a plot that will knock your socks off or in-depth characterisation. This is the kind of book you read while sitting at home on a Friday night with a family sized packet of Maltesers in your lap.

Rating: (not bad)

With thanks to Meryl L Moss Media relations for the review copy

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