Have you ever read a romance novel where, about three quarters of the way through, you wanted to take the heroine by the shoulders, shake her hard, and yell, “What is your problem?” Then turn to the hero, take him by the shoulders, shake him hard, and yell, “What can you possibly see in her?” But wait. . .I’m getting ahead of myself.

Carrie Spencer grew up in the small Maine town of Paradise. As a teenager, she had a hot, emotional relationship with Truck McKelvey, although regrettably for Truck and happily for Carrie, they never went “all the way.” The night they were going to, they came as close as a couple can without actually doing “it,” and suddenly Carrie got cold feet and turned away from Truck. Forever. . . (And believe me, it’s just that dramatic.)

Now, fifteen years later, a much more sophisticated, grown up Carrie comes home. She is nearly broke and out of work thanks to a former lover/co-worker who stole the praise for one of her projects in the New York ad agency where they both worked. He got promoted; she got the boot. Carrie returns to her childhood house, alone and unsure what to do next. Her mother has died and she decides to take some time to re-evaluate her loss, her life, remember her mother, and send out resumes for a brand new, big-time job in another big, glamorous city where she really belongs.

But along comes Truck to save the day, and apparently her very soul, since we hear about it a lot. (But again, I’m getting ahead of myself.) A hard working plumber who runs his own company with his disabled father, Truck sees Carrie on the very first page and instantly remembers all those old feelings they shared, the only true, deep feelings he’s ever felt for a woman that have really mattered to him. But of course he doesn’t realize how much they mattered until he sees her again after fifteen years. Lucky for Truck, though, Carrie’s mother’s house is in shambles and she needs a plumber now. Soon, Truck makes it his mission to convince Carrie that she is home to stay, while Carrie makes it hers to convince Truck that she is only in Paradise to take control of her life before she heads out into the big, bad world once again. After only a couple of days, however, she also remembers the mind-blowing passion they shared all those years ago and gives in to him at long last – in the car, on the roof, on a desk, even tied up in bed, although she isn’t sure if she was really just dreaming.

I’d never read a book by this author, and it started out promising. Ms. Devine’s writing is smoothly crafted and comfortable to read – except for the never-ending changes in point of view that tended to make me dizzy. The first couple of chapters captured my interest, but it went downhill from there. Somewhere around page 130, I realized that Carrie and Truck never talked to one another – that doesn’t happen until about page 170. The author serves up a reason, though, however far-fetched. Since Carrie won’t admit her deep and eternal desire to be with Truck, he decides to become her “phantom lover,” sneaking into her bedroom at night to do naughty things to her while ignoring her during the day. Believable? Where were the locks on Carrie’s doors?

The love scenes eventually became repetitious, and all are very purple. Phrases like, “. . . a stream of sensation that skeined through her body and pooled at the very center of her being. . .” and “. . . felt him wholly rooted in her. . .” frankly jerked me out of the story and made me think of forests, trees and fly fishing. And every time Truck and Carrie made wild, passionate love on the roof, desk, in the car, I kept thinking how her back must hurt from all those hard surfaces. One reason the love scenes don’t work might be because we never get to know these characters as individuals. There is a lot of introspection in Night Moves, and a lot of talk between Carrie and her dear, long-time friend Jeannie, whom she hasn’t seen since leaving Paradise fifteen years ago, and who has marital problems of her own. But most of the talking is between Carrie and Jeannie rather than Carrie and Truck, who do nothing but carry on a heated, tension-swelling, explosively-needing, engulfing, possessive, wanting-to-the-very-soul, sex-fest.

Of course everything works out in the end, though we do get to go through the “I hate you!” “No you don’t!” phase first. But one final problem should be mentioned – Truck and Carrie’s total lack of regard for birth control. Given Carrie’s life-long fears about pregnancy, this seemed odd and amazingly irresponsible. Now, perhaps she was on the pill, but if she was as self-sufficient and anxious to leave Paradise as the reader is told she was, author Devine should have addressed this at some point.

Night Moves is Thea Devine’s first book for Harlequin, and I really, really wanted to like it. But I didn’t at all. Not one bit. So why not a grade of F instead? There are two positive things worth mentioning. Ms. Devine did a terrific job of creating a sense of place with her Small Town USA descriptions. Except for her too-purple love scenes and characters lacking common sense, she is a very good writer. I also understood that she tried to create a dark, desperate feeling of “if you want me you can only have me at night” thing with the “phantom lover.” It is a risky ploy, and difficult to pull off. She should be given some credit for trying. Unfortunately, it’s hard to tell a convincing tale when the hero and heroine never converse with each other, and this tale didn’t work at all.