Alone and Unobserved

Jane Austen was an awesome writer. Can’t get enough of her. The problem? She’s dead, and she simply didn’t write enough during her short life.

And that’s why Georgette Heyer is such a godsend. She’s dead, too, more’s the pity, but she was so prolific! Thirty-four Regency- and Georgian-era novels, six other historical novels, twelve mysteries and four further contemporary novels. She’s usually classified as a romance author, but that’s an oversimplification, since the main thing her books are is HILARIOUS. A number of them are told from a man’s perspective, too, which is hardly characteristic of a romance novel.

Unfortunately, as far as Harlequin is concerned, Heyer was a ROMANCE AUTHOR, and thus Harlequin reprints of her books are given lurid bodice-ripper covers. Well, there aren’t any ripped bodices or heaving bosoms or mighty thews on display, but the cover illustrations are very recognizably romance-oriented, which is a shame. Partly because the books are so much more than that, but mostly because it means I get some very odd looks when I’m walking around reading one of her novels.