REVIEW: Molly O’Keefe’s THE TYCOON

TycoonI’ve waited a long time for a Molly O’Keefe romance and I’m awfully glad it arrived, finally, in The Tycoon. Which is not to say that Mo’K was idle. The direction her books had taken, however, was not to my taste or sensibility. I measure O’Keefe’s efforts and contemporary romance in general against the greatness that is her Crooked Creek Ranch series. Would this measure up? Delving into The Tycoon, I came smack-dab up against one of those O’Keefe directions I haven’t enjoyed: first-person narration, and a mannered one at that. After the first few pages, I thought The Tycoon was much like an HP with first-person narration. I had to readjust my expectations, give the book a fighting chance … because O’Keefe (I’d loved O’Keefe’s Super-romances so so much).

The Tycoon had one thing going for it that made me stay with it, a superb premise. As you may already know, I’ve been interested in the romance’s “dark moment” (when the HEA is most at stake for the romance couple) as one of betrayal, when one or the other of protagonists does something so wrong, the wrong-doing’s recipient, whether direct or caught in “friendly fire,” may not be able to forgive the other. The Tycoon opens with a doozy of a betrayal (infidelity is one betrayal that a romance cannot recover from, btw, unless in the hands of masters like Mary Balogh. I’m looking at you Counterfeit Betrayal). Continue reading

Mini-Review: Joanna Shupe’s “TYCOON”

TycoonJoanna Shupe’s “Tycoon,” the introductory novella to her Gilded-Age-set Knickerbocker Club series, opens with one of the funniest scenes Miss Bates has read in ages! At NYC’s Grand Central Depot, eponymous tycoon, Theodore “Ted” Harper waits for his private Pullman car. In a blink, a feisty young woman accosts him:  

Ted Harper never saw it coming. Once minute, he was alone on the platform, and the next he’d acquired a wife.

“There you are, dear husband! Let’s not miss the train,” said a loud, husky feminine voice.

What in the name of Jacob? He tried to extricate his arm from her unexpectedly strong grip while glancing around for a porter. A patrolman. A crowbar … Anyone or anything to dislodge this woman from his side …

“I’m looking forward to meeting your mother,” she said and began propelling him toward the train. “I do hope she can teach me to cook that apple pie you like so much.” Mother? Ted frowned. His mother had been dead for eight years. Crazy, thy name is woman …

Ted’s staid, solitary life, dedicated to growing his New American Bank, will never be the same. Miss Clara Dobson, Hoyt’s department store perfume-seller, takes him in firm hand and makes great use of his stupefaction and bemusement to escape from the dangerous men who are following her.  Continue reading