Bantam, $7.99, ISBN 978-0-553-57409-8
Historical Romance, 1999 (Reissue)
Ah, With This Ring, a title that breaks Amanda Quick’s usual “3 books with a one-word title that starts with the same alphabet” trend. One can’t help but wonder if this novel started life as Aphrodite before someone put their foot down. Perhaps coming up with “A” titles was becoming a bit of a challenge. I mean, imagine the hilarity if they’d gone with Arthritis, Asparagus, or Aardvark instead.
Now, let’s dive into this tale of antiquities and ardor.
Beatrice Poole, our intrepid heroine, is convinced her uncle Reggie, Lord Glassonby, had been murdered over some ancient jewelry called the Forbidden Rings of Aphrodite. Naturally, she seeks out the local eccentric expert, Leo Drake, the Mad Monk of Monkcrest. (Because every romance novel needs a brooding male lead with a ridiculous nickname, right?)
Leo, being the skeptic he is, thinks these rings are about as real as my chances of writing a bestselling romance novel. But Beatrice, determined to find these rings and cash them in for her sister’s dowry, decides to go ring-hunting anyway. Leo, probably realizing that leaving a woman alone in a romance novel is a recipe for disaster, decides to tag along. Little do they know, there’s a murderous ring-enthusiast hot on their heels, proving that jewelry shopping can indeed be a matter of life and death.
Our heroine, Beatrice, is refreshingly not a virgin widow (gasp!), which is a nice change from the usual “I’m in my twenties but have the sexual experience of a nun” heroines. However, the rest of the characters feel as familiar as your grandmother’s china—nice to look at but lacking any real flavor. It seems the author is so focused on crafting the next great mystery that she’s forgotten to make her characters, you know, interesting.
Speaking of mystery, this one’s about as thrilling as watching paint dry in slow motion. Instead of a pulse-pounding whodunit, we get a tepid game of “guess who wants the shiny rings”. One can’t help but imagine more exciting alternatives. A heist perhaps? Or a treasure hunt that doesn’t involve stepping over corpses every other chapter? But no, we’re stuck with yet another murder mystery that’s about as mysterious as why people still eat fruitcake at Christmas.
In conclusion, With This Ring feels like the literary equivalent of that last piece of cake that’s been in the fridge a bit too long. It looks like it should be good, but something’s off, and you’re left wishing you’d just made a fresh batch instead. It’s a stark reminder that even the most prolific authors can sometimes lose their magic touch. Here’s hoping Amanda Quick finds her “A” game again soon!
