You know that obnoxious female character, so common in romance (usually the spoiled younger sister or cousin) who hasn’t a thought in her feather-light brain aside from her newest dress and whichever knight (or knights) in shining armor she’s in love with this week? The kind that never thinks about anyone or anything but herself, except for the rare brief fantasy of someone coming to avenge her against some offender? Well, The Warrior’s Damsel has just such a character: the heroine. Kate is a brainless piece of fluff, naïve to the point of stupidity (despite being a widow), and completely irritating to the poor reader trapped inside her shallow thoughts. She was widowed young, and her cruel father, who despises her (we never actually find out why) is dying to sell her off to the highest bidder, particularly if that bidder happens to be a lecherous, abusive, romance cliché of a villain.

Our hero, Rafe, is hardly better. He plots to make Kate his, and is vaguely relieved when he realizes she’s attracted to him, because this means he won’t have to rape her when he makes off with her – which was his original plan. He is a landless third son with no real money of his own (which somehow doesn’t keep him from having the cash to pay off his spies and supporters), and dreams of a wife and family, and a home of his own. Specifically, he wants Glevering, the land stolen from his ancestor 60 years ago, by an ancestor of his most bitter enemy. Naturally, this enemy just happens to be Kate’s dastardly father. Conveniently enough, if he steals Kate and marries her, he will receive her dowry, which includes Glevering. This fact is enough to convince Kate he loves her. Yes, I know that didn’t make sense. However, that is how it is presented in the book.

The plot of the book is at some points even less believable and enjoyable than its characters. The author attempts to weave in historical interest by insinuating that the feud between Rafe’s family and Kate’s somehow simulates the rift between the loyalists supporting King John, and the rebels who plot to dethrone him. However, this never really makes sense; there is no actual connection between the two conflicts. This really causes the plot to fall apart toward the end.

Aside from the bad plotting and annoying characters, there are several recurring phrases and tidbits guaranteed to drive the reader up the wall. If I never again read the epithets “rat-kisser,” “snake-eater,” or (by far the most repeated and irritating) “bitch’s son,” I will be quite happy – and thankful. Also, none of the characters had fathers and mothers, but rather “sires” and “dams.” I felt like I was reading the Black Stallion, only badly written and unlikably cast.

All in all, this book is poorly plotted, and full of characters and pet phrases guaranteed to drive you nuts. If you’re really dying for a good medieval, hunt for one of this author’s earlier medievals, written as Denise Domning, such as Winter’s Heat, which LLB recommends, or one of Elizabeth Lowell’s Disputed Lands trilogy, which is still in print. But please, let this one lie. You’ll be glad you did.