Go ahead and judge this book by its cover. It looks like every other Avon romance you’ve read in the last five years, and that’s how it reads as well. That’s not to say it’s bad, because it isn’t. It’s merely unoriginal.

Katherine Fleming is on the verge of marrying Cole Mallory when the unthinkable happens: his first wife comes back from the dead. She had been considered lost at sea several years earlier, so Cole had moved on with his life in every way. After the news breaks, Cole contemplates what to do in a private family meeting (without Katherine). Suddenly it appears that Cole has been both precipitous and dishonorable, spending much of Katherine’s fortune and gambling with her property. He needs the money the marriage was supposed to bring, so he strikes a bargain with his brother Dominic, whom he hates. He will grant Dominic Lansing Square, an estate that may hold the key to Dominic’s mysterious past. In return, Dominic will marry Katherine and grant his brother the money he needs to repay his debts. They inform Katherine of their plans, presenting the deal as a fait accompli. As annoyed as she is about having no say in the matter, she goes along with the plan – partly because she is secretly attracted to Dominic.

Dominic and Katherine set out to spend their honeymoon at Lansing Square, both toting their heavy emotional baggage. Dominic knows he is a bastard, and he wants to find out who his true father is. He knows his mother spent much of her time at Lansing Square during the year before his birth, so he is convinced the answers are there. His childhood was very unhappy. His father knew he was another man’s son, and treated him terribly. His older brother Cole was raised to despise him as a bastard. His mother was little better; she thought of him as an unpleasant reminder of a happier time and a love that could never be. She’s still alive, but she refuses to reveal the identity of her former lover. Dominic searches the house top to bottom, looking for answers.

Meanwhile, Katherine has her own problems. Her mother was madly in love with her father, who repaid her mother’s devotion with abuse. He would treat her just well enough to keep her hanging on, and he’d constantly claim to be on the verge of giving up his many mistresses. Consequently, Katherine sees love and true affection as weaknesses in which no woman can afford to indulge. She resolves to get only so close to Dominic while she carefully guards her heart and true feelings.

It takes some time for either of them to reveal their secrets to the other. They both have trust issues, and neither wants to be vulnerable. Dominic is also more than a little ashamed of the bargain he struck to acquire his bride. He knows she’ll find out about it eventually, and he dreads the eventual revelation (and Katherine’s reaction). Happily, none of this angst prevents them from indulging in a healthy sex life. The bedroom seems to be the one place where they truly connect and dispense – however temporarily – with the burdens of their childhoods. Just as they are beginning to get on some kind of solid ground, Cole arrives at the estate with his bitchy not-dead wife Sarah in tow. Both of them drag up every sort of nastiness, from false accusations about the past to distorted versions of Dominic’s motives in the marriage. Can Katherine and Dominic overcome the sadness of their past and the daunting challenges of a future together?

There’s really nothing wrong with the characterization here. Katherine and Dominic are perfectly unobjectionable protagonists, nice people with fairly believable motivations. I didn’t dislike them. Dominic does have one moment where he discovers his sister and best friend making sheep’s eyes at each other, and totally goes off the deep end, but Katherine calls him on it and he ends up apologizing. Similarly, the aforementioned sister and best friend are nice people too, and their secondary romance is fun and angst free, providing a nice foil for Dominic and Katherine’s relationship. Cole and Sarah are a different matter; since they have no redeeming characteristics, their villainy has a cartoonish, over the top vibe.

The writing itself is fairly competent as well. It’s smooth and unchoppy, if a little unremarkable. If you like sex scenes, there are plenty to be had. I found them a little too plentiful, and a little too similar. After awhile, I skimmed them. But if you’re getting sick of characters who seem to take forever to get to it, then you may find this book a welcome relief.

I didn’t really dislike this book at all, but I didn’t like it either. In pretty much every way, it reminded me of all too many books I’d read before. I couldn’t really think of one feature that made it stand out from the pack. Upon further reflection, I decided that it had a very “branded” feel. It’s quite possible that some readers are looking for just that when they pick out a romance. Maybe Avon is shooting for a consistent level of quality that is dependable – if uninspired and ordinary. When you drive through an unfamiliar town, there is a certain comfort to knowing exactly what to expect if you eat at Red Robin, The Cheesecake Factory, or On the Border. You know it probably won’t be the best, most unique food in town, but it will at least be pretty good. It’s less of a risk than the independently owned dive across the way, which could be spectacular but could also be terrible (just ask anyone in my family about that horrible pizza place in Rapid City). For better or worse, Avon appears to be branding their historicals in this way, delivering a certain type of story in a certain package. They look the same, and they are starting to read the same.

To be fair, Scandalous is certainly better than some. It’s not bad, just completely unremarkable. There’s no reason to run away from it, but no reason to seek it out either. Petersen is a debut author, and I can’t help hoping that next time she will step out of the box a bit and differentiate herself form the pack. But is that even what Avon wants?