Promise of Pleasure is a mystery to me – how can this sort of book still exist? I was left speechless at the end of the story, which does not happen often. Even now, I cannot remember the last book I read that was as bad as this. The characters are irredeemable, the plot is riddled with clichés, and the writing itself was the source of my many gasps of disbelief. But more on the writing style later.

Mary Barnes hates her life. Stuck in a Cinderella-like situation, she’s had it with her bratty stepsisters and stepmother. Her stepsister Felicity is hosting Jordan Winthrop, heir to the Earl of Sutherland, at her home as a potential suitor. Mary and Jordan meet, and she is shocked by his advances towards her, but (of course) undeniably attracted. One day, a peddler just happens to force her to take a bottle of love potion. The instructions are that she must drink it as she looks at her true love, and Mary decides that her long time, middle-aged suitor will do just fine. Of course, as she drinks the potion and stares at Harold, who should block her view but the very desirable Jordan? And we all know what happens next as Jordan falls in love with her and she wonders if it’s really love, or just the potion.

Mary is a girl who loves to wallow in self pity – and what’s worse is that she knows it! She actually makes plans to sulk in her room, which I found really bizarre. We’re repeatedly told that she is presently acting very different from her normal “shy” demeanor, but I swear she has been giving attitude since the beginning of time. She is downright nasty in her “assertiveness” and I didn’t feel bad for her plight at all. She’s sullen, thinks she’s just the cutest thing ever, and full of how good a person she thinks she is. I didn’t like her.

Jordan is a typical man whore, sleeping with any woman under the age of a hundred. He sees Mary and is struck with tender feelings for her all, all of which seemed completely unbelievable since most of their conversations consists of “yes” and “no” answers. He starts off a jerk, and suddenly becomes the cheesiest, faux-alpha male that ever lived. When he begins spouting his devotion to Mary, I began to wish he was back to his original snotty, more silent self.

The plot is pedestrian, with one tired cliché after another. There is the jaded city bachelor who actually dreams of living on a farm, the unfairly treated (poor) heroine, the convenient Special License, the conniving mistress whose actions are invisible to everyone, and a minor windfall at the very end, among other favorite clichés.

The writing style is incredibly poor. Everyone’s actions and thoughts are described to the minutiae, which became tedious very quickly. The tone of this book is entirely too colloquial, given that the setting is in the early 1800s. The writing is rife with odd phrasing, including one of my favorites, “she was a veritable ball of umbrage.” Chunks of dialogue are written with nary a description in sight. Here is a very typical example:

“I’m going to kiss you,” he advised. “You are not.” “I am.” “I forbid it!” “I don’t care. I’m going to do it anyway. Close your eyes.” “No.” “You need this from me.” “I don’t.” “It will work wonders for your character.” “My character is fine just the way it is.”

I wanted to laugh, really I did, but by this point I was so shocked that this sort of dialogue happens on every page that I was rendered speechless.

I rarely give Fs, because I try to find something in the book that pulls the grade a little higher. Unfortunately, there was nothing remotely redeeming in Promise of Pleasure. The plot was dull, the characters all terribly unlikeable, and the writing style nearly made this story unreadable. Two chapters in, I knew this would have been a DNF if I hadn’t been reading it for review purposes.