When I Met My Duchess by Caroline Linden
This one subverts quite a number of the usual tropes, but still, it could have been longer.

This one subverts quite a number of the usual tropes, but still, it could have been longer.

If Donald Trump weren’t born in Queens, New York, I’d think the hero of this one is his great-great-great-great-grandpappy.

Ever get the feeling that a book is taken over by another author halfway through?

It looks like the author channels all her risk-taking into shorter stories, while letting her full-length stories remain on the safe side.

The author is all serious business here, and I find myself missing her too-stupid heroines. They aren’t as boring as the heroine here.

Christmas is coming, so bring on the low-effort anthologies!

If you can switch one of the guys with a woman and not much would have changed, is there a point to the story at all?

The heroine is so easily triggered by the idea of sex with a bloke, I wonder whether she’d be happier just having a pet.

The hero is a such a dreamboat; it’s a shame that the heroine doesn’t quite get to keep up with her.

Vlad the Impaler is a woman, and she and her brother both want a Sultan’s heart. Okay, things are a bit more complicated… oh, just read this thing.
