Alice Dryden (huskyteer) wrote,
Alice Dryden
huskyteer

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Going Down A Storm

In a charity shop last week, I bought a Mills & Boon Medical Romance called Arctic Storm because it had huskies on the cover (as well as a BEATIFUL GURL swooning on the shoulder of a bloke in a parka).

Never having read any of M&B's copious output, I thought this was a good chance to find out if I've been justified in scorning them all this time. And I do believe I have.

Leaving aside the question of whether women really want a man who will pull them roughly to his chest and press his firm warm lips against theirs, it is appallingly badly written. The male lead's eyes glitter every couple of paragraphs - when they're not darkening compassionately - and pandemonium breaks out and breaks loose within a page and a half of itself (both times in relation to the sled dogs, who otherwise don't get much of a look-in, poor things).

It's set on an Arctic research station, with predictable consequences. People fall down glaciers and break their ribs. Frostbite happens. Eskimo babies get whooping-cough. Man doctor and woman doctor hate each other on sight but find a strange sexual attraction developing in spite of themselves. The weather closes in. Radio contact is lost. Man doctor behaves like an arrogant chauvinist bastard, but only because he drives himself too hard and wrongly blames himself for the death of woman doctor's husband a year ago. (There's also a blond, broad-chested Scandinavian called Lars, which obviously gave me quite the wrong mental image.)

Needless to say this one goes straight back to Cancer Research UK, to whom I don't begrudge the 25p I spent on it, rather than taking pride of place on my shelf of husky-related literature. I should confess, though, that despite the leaden inevitability of the plot I found myself quite caught up in it towards the end. Mostly as I yelled, unsuccessfully, at the silly bint - sorry, Doctor Silly Bint - to please fall in love with lovely Lars rather than Evil Bastard Glittery-Eyed Man Doctor.

Oop, must dash - I hear Emma Peel and Lara Croft bursting in through the French windows to confiscate my World Federation of Feminists membership card...
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