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A review by bunnieslikediamonds
The Pride of the Peacock by Victoria Holt
3.0
Sometimes it's better to stay nostalgic and keep those memories hazy. I read this, and other Holt romances, multiple times when I was a tweener. It had everything: cursed jewels, exotic locations (Australia! Kookaburras!), an outcast heroine and a rakish hero. That last one did a number on me. For years I expected fellas to give me veiled looks and sardonic smiles while playing complicated mind games and gently mocking me.
So, our heroine Jess and the rake Joss enter a marriage of convenience to access a pile of money from a despicable old man (first there is 200 pages of backstory but who cares). Initially Jess not only loathes her husband but is convinced he is trying to murder her, yet gets weak in the knees when he gives her one of his looks: "...a little stormy, a little mocking and veiled". That's a difficult look to pull off.
She is uptight and he is proud (like a peacock!) , and there is much verbal sparring and tantrum throwing (her) and amused looks (him). There's also a whole shtick where they have separate bedrooms and each night he promises not to rape her, and if that isn't swoonworthy I don't know what is. While Jessica is so classy she won't even sleep with her own husband (even though he SMOLDERS), the sexy neighbour hussy (repeatedly described as a predatory djungle cat; think sluttier Blanche from Jane Eyre) practically writhes orgasmically on the dining table every time they double date. There's a lot of talk of opals, a murder (not Jessica's) and some mysterious piano playing, which is all fine, but the only thing anyone will remember about this book is the sexual tension (sadly there is no graphic unleashing of the beast).
As much as I loved this book as an impressionable girl, I must admit that it: a) is horribly sexist, b) presents a dysfunctional relationship as romance, c) should not be read by impressionable girls, and d) is badly written. Sorry, Victoria Holt. Horses do not sniff out dead bodies. You're thinking of dogs. Sorry, childhood self. Although kids these days get scarred by those insane Twilight books so you were still better off.
So, our heroine Jess and the rake Joss enter a marriage of convenience to access a pile of money from a despicable old man (first there is 200 pages of backstory but who cares). Initially Jess not only loathes her husband but is convinced he is trying to murder her, yet gets weak in the knees when he gives her one of his looks: "...a little stormy, a little mocking and veiled". That's a difficult look to pull off.
She is uptight and he is proud (like a peacock!) , and there is much verbal sparring and tantrum throwing (her) and amused looks (him). There's also a whole shtick where they have separate bedrooms and each night he promises not to rape her, and if that isn't swoonworthy I don't know what is. While Jessica is so classy she won't even sleep with her own husband (even though he SMOLDERS), the sexy neighbour hussy (repeatedly described as a predatory djungle cat; think sluttier Blanche from Jane Eyre) practically writhes orgasmically on the dining table every time they double date. There's a lot of talk of opals, a murder (not Jessica's) and some mysterious piano playing, which is all fine, but the only thing anyone will remember about this book is the sexual tension (sadly there is no graphic unleashing of the beast).
As much as I loved this book as an impressionable girl, I must admit that it: a) is horribly sexist, b) presents a dysfunctional relationship as romance, c) should not be read by impressionable girls, and d) is badly written. Sorry, Victoria Holt. Horses do not sniff out dead bodies. You're thinking of dogs. Sorry, childhood self. Although kids these days get scarred by those insane Twilight books so you were still better off.