(my rating: -0)
I'm not one of those who immediately dismiss Brenda Joyce's style, and there are few books both in the de Warenne series and the Bragg saga I've quite enjoyed. However, after subjecting myself to the torture that is 'Firestorm', a horror of a book, I'm very much tempted to move her name to my 'avoid like the plague' list. 'Firestorm' is easily one of the worst romance books I've ever read, and, as many a romance reader knows, the race to the bottom of the barrel is fierce.
Even armed with the kind of immunity I have developed to utter crap, I could not believe Brenda Joyce wrote a book as bad as this. There are so many eye-rollingly wrong things with it, but, as life is short, and I can easily pretend I have better things to do, I will not list them one by one; I will, however, dwell on the main point of ueber frustation: the heroine.
Storm (one of those ridiculous names that are popular in Romanticshire) makes for a very painful (akin to root canal surgery) reading. She's one of those heroines who cannot end a scene without either slamming a door, or slamming a fist in the hero's midsection, while she fills the in-between time with screaming matches, endless immature put downs, pouting, and being petulant and obnoxious. And all this goes on and on until a couple of pages from the end. Be prepared to read 'I hate you' plastered on every second page, to marvel at her constant verbal abuse of the hero ('pig', 'bastard', 'fop', etc.), or to witness her constant clawing of his pulchritudinous cheeks. And when she does not do all that she simply bad-mouths him to their mutual friends!!! Yet, BJ (could not resist) wants us to believe that this insufferable bore is deeply in love with the hero, and is in possession of an irresistible personality that calls forth Eros. The only thing the heroine is capable of is turning even the most fervent feminist into a misogynist.
In this book, Joyce displays a shocking inability to bring to life a remotely interesting, half-decent, minimally rational female character. This is a common failure in Romancia, and it is a truly shocking failure. Even the so-called, or especially those, 'strong' women are nothing but indulgent, spoiled, irrational bores. Storm has the emotional literacy of an inanimate object and the reasoning ability of protozoa. She's written as nothing but a vapid dullard, yet we are asked immediately to believe that her obvious lack of common sense is equivalent to 'free spiritedness'. Somebody should have told BJ that a romance novel heroine must have much more than 'striking features' to hold our attention, and that screaming, slapping and clawing are expressions of a grand passion only in the bedroom scenes and nowhere else. As this vapid, irredeemably immature caricature of a young girl dominates the book with her tantrums, unbelievable aggression and emotional illiteracy, whatever interest one could have had about a plot involving a hero with a rather dark background (which Joyce only remembers to unearth now and then, probably when even she has tired of her heroine's voice, without ever really engaging with it) is soon defeated.
If you don't mind screaming matches every second page and a heroine from whom even the most desperate Quasimodo would run away, then, by all means, go ahead and read this waste of Amazonian forest.