A Duke, a Billionaire, and a Superhero Walk into a Bar…
I’m an equal opportunity reader. Give me a traditional Regency, an erotic contemp with a family of super-rich playboy heroes, an urban fantasy where the characters acquire kick-ass superpowers…I’m not picky. As long as the world is well crafted and the characters grab me, I’ll follow them along on all their adventures.
Some people (read: my family) don’t understand how I can bounce around between genres like that, how I can love a rich historical just as much as a fast-paced action romance. But it’s easy. What’s interesting to me about this motley crew of genres is not how dissimilar they are, but how similar they are.
Because no matter which way I figure it, every one of the hero types found in these books is as deliciously unrealistic as the next.
Historicals love to depict dukes. And spies. And really rich landowners who don’t exploit their tenants or the slave trade in the West Indies but have an inexplicable source of income all the same. I’m not saying I won’t read one of these books (on the contrary, magically rich and handsome young men are a staple in my TBR pile), but I am saying that the reality is probably a lot more grim. I mean, I have the Internet. I can look up paintings of the ancient lords of England. I see a lot of weak chins and receding hairlines.
Contemporaries are just as guilty of this. Yes, we’re seeing a larger influx of blue-collar heroes (whom I happen to adore), but the vast majority don’t worry about money. And even when they do worry, it’s always for a noble reason. You don’t see any of these guys agonizing about car payments and paying down their student loan debt. Oh, no. They want to set their female relatives up in style, make a family business successful, give up the shackles of their millions to pursue a higher calling.
Which leaves us with the superheroes and fierce men of the paranormal world. Naturally, we have to take a leap of believability when we pick up one of these books. I know my cute UPS guy probably doesn’t howl at the moon every 28 days. I know that if my husband took up Hawkeye-style archery, he’d only end up shooting himself in the face rather than saving the world. But in my day-to-day life, radioactive spiders are just as realistic as taking up spying for my country or building a million-dollar play room.
Which is to say, not at all.
So when a duke, a billionaire, and a superhero walk into a bar…it’s probably just me, enjoying a mojito and searching through my Kindle to find what I want to read next. You should come say hello. I’ll buy you a drink, and maybe we can talk books.
About Playing with Fire
Fiona Nelson has always been one hot ticket—even before she took the conversion serum that gave her superhuman abilities. Fiona’s powers come at a price: lack of human contact, or she won’t be the only thing burning. When she loses control of her emotions, her fire powers run rampant…and she’s hurt enough people already.
But when the man behind her conversion returns to blackmail her into helping him gain power, the only person she can turn to is Ian Jones, the man who broke her teenage heart. The man determined to expose the criminal known as Fireball, whose explosive escapades are just a little too close to Fiona’s M.O.
Ian is convinced Fiona’s dangerous, convinced she’s Fireball, and convinced he’ll damn himself if he doesn’t resist a heat that’s always drawn him to Fiona like a moth to a flame—but Ian has his own secrets.
And he’ll learn far too soon what happens when you play with fire.
About Tamara Morgan
Tamara Morgan is a romance writer and unabashed lover of historical reenactments—the more elaborate and geeky the costume requirements, the better. In her quest for modern-day history and intrigue, she has taken fencing classes, forced her child into Highland dancing, and, of course, journeyed annually to the local Renaissance Fair. These feats are matched by a universal love of men in tights, of both the superhero and codpiece variety.