Despite the fact that “Fatal Fallout” is a Harlequin romantic suspense (a genre I typically spare my mind from the pain of absorbing), Lara Lacombe’s novel surpassed my expectations. Unlike most Harlequin-published novels, “Fatal Fallout” is well written and even witty in parts. For example, the very first conversation between main characters Thomas and Claire is both relatable and hilarious. The free indirect discourse that occurs with both main characters is very effective in making the characters seem like real rather than fictional people, causing the reader to become vested in the lives of the characters and thus turning the pages to see what happens to them.
Don’t get me wrong, the novel fits well into what I can only imagine is a set criteria that the story must meet to be published under the name Harlequin, overly detailed physical descriptions of the characters, highly sexual internal dialogues, and the typical man-in-shining-armour-saves-damsel-in-distress plot. In “Fatal Fallout” the stereotypical, overly sexualised gender roles are sexy scientist meets beefy FBI agent. What I do appreciate about Lacombe’s choice in characters, though, is the fact that Claire is an intelligent, independent, and strong woman before, and even sometimes while, interacting with Thomas. When she can, Lacombe ensures her descriptive text takes on a sure sign of her own writerly intelligence. Phrases such as “lethally quiet” and “creatively gruesome” are just two of many instances of smart writing that caught my attention.
Shortly after his first meeting with Claire, Thomas’ thought process moves from the perfectly aligned drinking glasses in her kitchen cupboards to an assumption that her underwear drawer must be equally as organised. While still keeping with the internal sexual dialogue found in every Harlequin, Lacombe manages to make this particular passage, and others as well, exceptionally funny. Even the sexualised details, token requirements of Harlequin novels, are tasteful such as the phrase “the sound of him made her stomach flip-flop.” The intercourse scene itself is short, but arousing and does not take over as the major climax of the novel.
Overall, I found the 48-hour time frame that the novel’s events occur within to be the only really unbelievable aspect. Lacombe delivers a page-turner that is truly impressive to this Harlequin-skeptic!