This read like a decent first draft written by someone who’s never taken a writing class or attended a writers’ conference. Now, I’m not saying that those things are necessary to being able to write a great story. However, for people who bypass pursuing traditional publishing for self-publishing, that kind of training becomes vitally important. Otherwise, you end up with what this turned out to be—something that reads like a draft by an unpolished, newbie writer.

The Pros:
The premise of this story was good. I enjoyed the idea of the hero being blind, and she did a pretty good job of getting across his frustration of going from someone who was a Royal Navy captain—active, a leader, independent—to someone who was completely dependent on others just to be able to leave the house.

There were some great interactions in dialogue between the hero and heroine, and while it could have been stronger, she did a decent job of showing a believable relationship building between them.

While at first I questioned the bit about the dog automatically/naturally becoming a guide dog, I did appreciate that she showed them working with/training the dog to help out. And she actually used the fact that this isn’t a professionally trained dog later in the book to somewhat good effect. Then, in her (very long) afterword, it was nice to learn a little more about the history of people training dogs to work with/guide the seeing impaired.

The Cons:
As I already said, this read like a first draft by someone who hasn’t studied the craft—and who obviously didn’t work with a developmental editor, content editor, copy editor, or proofreader who knows what they were doing (and probably not critique partners, either). The biggest issues I had with this, craft-wise, were:

• The head-hopping. The character development in this book could have been so much better—if only the author had written it in limited POV, giving us only the viewpoints of the hero and heroine, not every single minor character around them. POV switched from paragraph to paragraph, usually, and could be very jarring because I could never be quite sure whose viewpoint the narrative in any given passage was in, which kept me from being able to lose myself in the characters/story.
• The poor research. Ugh. Really? A simple Google search would have netted her the information that in the early 19th century, the London Season ran from approximately January/February through June, the most active part of the Season being from Easter through the end of June. It hadn’t started in November since the mid- to late-1700s. Also—Christmas trees and big family Christmas celebrations were a Victorian introduction, not something that was done in 1806. And there were several details surrounding the Royal Navy that I found errors in—though anyone who hasn’t done extensive research on this would never notice/be bothered by it. I can’t speak to the medical research. It seemed like something that could have been done, given the historical accounts I’ve read of other surgical procedures done (many on ships in the heat of battle) during this era.
• The anachronistic language. Yes, those of us who write historicals find it necessary to modernize the language so that it’s accessible to a modern audience. However, that doesn’t mean that we throw all historical accuracy out the window. Two of the most glaring examples of this that completely pulled me out of the story: at one point, she “screeched to a halt,” something that wouldn’t have happened before the advent of rubber tires or shoe soles, neither of which existed in this era; then there was the use of the word “heck” as a substitute for hell—a quick Google search for the etymology of this word shows its first recorded usage dates to 1865, or 59 years after this book is set. (That would be like having Lady Mary walking around Downton Abbey using terms like “groovy” and “far out” and “totally tubular” or even “cool.”)
• The lack of editing/proofreading. If I were the proofreader who had an “about the proofreader” blurb in the back of this book, I’d be embarrassed. There were so many grammatical errors, so many misused words, so many missing/misused punctuation marks . . . I’d have been fired if I’d let a manuscript go to print in this condition if it had been one I’d worked on at the publishing house. And that’s just the proofreading issues. As mentioned before, it was quite obvious that the author did not work with—nor likely has ever worked with—content and/or developmental editors. Because no editor worth her salt would have let the brain-twister sentence structures, the odd/misused word choices, the anachronistic language, the head-hopping, the over-descriptions, the info-dumps, and the general lack of polish get out into the public sphere.
• [Spoiler–highlight to read]The miraculous “he gets his sight back with a hit on the head” trope. No, he didn’t get his full sight back, but still . . . I find it very disappointing when romance novelists choose to go this route when they have a main character with a disability—especially blindness. As an author, if you’re going to choose to have a character go blind due to a battlefield injury, then commit to it. You don’t need to give the character a “reprieve” and have him regain some/all of his eyesight just so that he can confirm that he was right all along in thinking that the heroine is pretty/beautiful (or vice-versa with the heroine). I’ve read far too many books that use this “get out of jail free” card, as if someone who has no vision cannot have a happy ending. (It reminds me a lot of the “fat girl can’t have a happy ending until she loses weight” trope that I loathe.) The best book I’ve read that realistically deals with having a hero blinded in the war is Mary Balogh’s The Arrangement. (In fact, there were many similarities between that book and this one, including the heroine living with relatives who ill-treat her in order to put their own daughter forward in society.)
• It’s a “sweet” (clean) romance. This is both a pro and a con. It’s a pro because I enjoy reading romance novels that take the old-fashioned approach of not feeling the need for the characters to immediately fall in lust with each other or to have graphic sex scenes—without being religious fiction (not that I, obviously, have a problem with that genre, but it’s nice to see sweet romance in the general market as well). However, I was quite taken aback, toward the end, when they’re kissing in the sedan chair that he put his hand under her cloak and touched her breast, something that came across as very inappropriate for the tone of this story. It ripped me out of the story when it happened and I started worrying that there would be a very uncomfortable-to-read wedding-night scene. (I assumed from the other issues I had with the writing that it would be very awkwardly written.) But I worried for naught. She kept it sweet.

By the time I’d gotten to the end of the first (Kindle) page, I realized this wasn’t actually Gothic romance; rather, A Very Proper Monster is more accurately categorized as paranormal romance. Although the generalized definition of “Gothic fiction” includes horror classics such as Dracula and Frankenstein, the subgenre of Gothic Romance evolved to include certain, very specific tropes such as:

• Typically in first-person POV from the heroine’s viewpoint. If it’s in third person, it may be omniscient (events are narrated, never gets into the heads of the characters) and/or the heroine’s is still the only viewpoint the reader is given.
• One or more characters surrounding the heroine has/seems to have malevolent intentions toward the heroine. This includes the “hero” character.
• The reader is not privy to the thoughts, motivations, or intentions of the other characters surrounding the heroine. It’s similar to an unreliable narrator situation because the only POV character, the heroine, suspects everyone/anyone.
• The heroine’s life is in jeopardy—or seems to be—from someone close to her.
• There are, or seem to be, paranormal elements.
• Many times, there are two male characters vying for the affection of the heroine—one is dark, mysterious, and potentially dangerous, while the other seems to be bright, forthright, cheerful, and safe—in other words, they seem to be the exact opposite of each other.
• The setting plays a major role in the story—whether it’s an ancient estate on a misty moor, Mr. Rochester’s house with its strange sounds at night, a creepy castle in the far mountains of Transylvania in the 1800s (Deanna Raybourn’s The Dead Travel Fast), or a Gothic-style Victorian home in foggy Northern California filled with previously unknown relatives and a dying grandfather (White Jade by Willo Davis Roberts—my favorite Gothic Romance novel).
• There is a lot of focus on the psychological impact on the heroine of the fear driven by the setting, situation, and surrounding characters.

This novella, while a quick, interesting read, did not hit most of these tropes.

• Written in third person, not only do we get the hero’s POV, the story actually opens in his POV, so we know right from the beginning that he’s a “tame” vampire.
• The heroine, Josie’s, cousin could fill the “has malevolent intentions toward the heroine” role—except he didn’t have the agency or the power (or the intelligence) to actually do anything to her. There is a minor character who seems to be the Big Bad for the wider world of the series this novella fits into, but, again, aside from being told that he’s the Big Bad and runs the vampire community in Dublin, there was never truly any jeopardy from him for the heroine.
• There is no unreliable narrator situation created. Because we get Tom’s POV right from the start, we know that he’s a good guy and that he only wants to help Josie/her father.
• The heroine’s life was in jeopardy, yes—but only because she was consumptive and had been slowly dying for years from tuberculosis.
• There definitely were paranormal elements, given that most of the characters in it are vampires—and for a novella that fits into a wider storyworld, Hunter did a fabulous job of doing just enough world-building that I was never confused (for long) over a few made-up words or situations. It helps that she kept most of the standard rules for vampires (can’t go out in the sun, have the ability for mind control, have heightened sight and smell and hearing, etc.).
• There was no foil for Tom—and given that he never had, nor seemed to have, malevolent intentions toward her, combined with the shorter length of this story, it would have been hard to do that.
• The setting didn’t really play a role here. It could have been set in London or Edinburgh or New York and that wouldn’t have changed anything about the story. It was set in 1880s Dublin, so the actual world didn’t have to be built—only a few details given here and there to make it feel real . . . though not Gothic or fear-inducing.
• This was a very straight-forward romance. The only psychological focus was on her falling in love with him (and the potential that she wasn’t quite right in the head?) and his worry—then fear—of losing her when he was falling in love with her. She never feared him, or anyone else in the story.

I really did appreciate the fact that, because this obviously fits into a wider storyworld, I didn’t really have any trouble figuring out what was going on. Hunter gave just enough backstory for Tom and his “brothers” that I immediately was able to place each of them in my mind and keep them straight throughout. She also did a great job of contextualizing the paranormal elements so that I never had to wonder for more than a page or two what a certain (made up?) world-specific word or scenario meant.

As a romance writer myself, I’m always looking for the “big problem”—what’s the final big conflict that threatens to tear the couple apart seemingly forever (or which threatens their relationship but which they both must fight together, which brings them closer). In this story, because Josie is dying, which we know from the beginning, and because Tom is a vampire, I never truly felt their relationship was in any jeopardy. I knew right from the beginning that he would turn her (have her turned) rather than let her die—especially once they fell in love so quickly/easily.

And then Josie’s transition into being a vampire . . . yes, there was discomfort and a little disorientation, but again, there was never any jeopardy, despite Anne and Murphy’s worrying over whether nor not she’d become problematic after turning, or all of the “dire” warnings in the narrative about how dangerous newborn vampires are. Sure, it was dangerous for Neville, but that needed to happen anyway.

All-in-all a fun, quick read . . . just not the “Gothic Romance” I was prepared for. It was good enough that I may look at eventually reading other books in this series. And this author is going onto my “ones to watch” list!

[Spoilers follow—read at your own risk!]

Here’s a quick recap of the issues I had with this book at the 40% mark:
1. It’s trying to be “adult” fantasy, but it’s YA.

2. Agnieszka spends (Kindle) page after (Kindle) page of the beginning of the book telling us how much she’s NOT a special snowflake. Just like every other heroine of every other YA fantasy or dystopian novel.

3. Apparently none of these girls has ever actually told (or shown) anyone exactly why she was taken by the Dragon or what she did/learned while she was with him.

4. Why do they keep having children during the 10th year, when they know the Dragon is going to take one away?

5. The Dragon says he is under a mandate from the king to train people who have magic. But neither the Dragon nor the government told the citizens this is what is going on. WHY???

6. The Dragon is only looking for/taking a girl to train. What about the boys? Are boys no longer being born with magic?

7. Why only every ten years? Does magic skip half-generations? Are witches/wizards born only every ten years? And is only one born exactly every ten years?

8. An almost-rape scene, a squicky (he-touched-her-between-her-legs) kiss scene, and a very uncomfortable sex scene do not make this an “adult” novel. It makes it a really confused YA novel. And speaking of the Dragon . . .

9. The Dragon/Sarkan is THE WORST. This is no Buffy and Angel. It’s not even Buffy and Spike. This comes much closer to Sansa-and-Joffrey-level awful. (Not quite—Dragon isn’t quite as bad as Joffrey, but that’s the best comparison I can come up with right now.)

10. Of course, Agnieszka has special magic.

11. The Wood sets the trap that draws the Dragon away from the tower and Agnieszka’s village signals for help. She barely knows any spells and none of them *should* actually be useful for the epic scope of the catastrophe she’s facing. But of course, because she’s a Chosen One, even when she’s doing things wrong, they end up working out just fine. And then, when Kasia is taken by the Wood, Agnieszka is so special that she can do something that neither the Dragon nor any other known (trained, experienced) wizard has ever been able to do.

12. Which leads up to the first turning point of the novel, where I’ve stopped reading for several days because I’ve read this before. Not this particular book—but so many other “this is the mostest specialest girl in the world even though she doesn’t realize it” young adult novels that I know how the rest of the book will go.

Here’s my review now that I’ve finished reading:

Now that I’ve finished reading the entire book, I can’t say that I will recant any of these sentiments/observations—this is a true representation of how I felt about the first 40% of the book. I will admit, though, that finishing it allowed some of the vehemence of a few of these to moderate, somewhat.

I was very happy that Sarkan didn’t have much of a presence in the last half of the book. When they went into the Wood to rescue the queen, I was annoyed that Agnieszka was, of course, the one who pretty much saved the day (though I was really happy to see Lady Brienne of Tarth—I mean Kasia 😉 being a badass with a sword).

Once they split up and Agnieszka/Kasia go to court and Sarkan stays to fight the Wood, I actually skipped a couple of chapters—I would read the first paragraph or so, then click forward to the end of the chapter and read the last few lines. And if it didn’t make me want to go back and read the chapter to see what had happened or what I’d missed, I just moved on. And I think that’s the only thing that helped me get through the book. And other than some (minor) character introductions, I really don’t feel like I missed anything. Novik has a penchant for over-describing and over-explaining minor things (like unimportant characters and settings) while glossing over important things (like worldbuilding and development of relationships between characters). For example, did we really need a full paragraph of physical description of the soldier who opens the barn door when they go to save Jerzy, when that soldier immediately goes away and never does anything else in the book except disappear in the Wood a few pages later?

I know that there are those who “swoon” over what they call the “romance” in this book. It was even nominated in a couple of categories in the All About Romance “best of 2015” survey. Maybe it’s because I’m so entrenched in the romance genre, as a lifelong reader and writer of it, that I just couldn’t see it here. As mentioned, the first kiss between the two of them took me by surprise, because up until that point in the story, there was no indication that there was any romantic—or even physical or emotional—attraction between the two of them. At least not from Agnieszka’s POV, which is all we get. Then the scene in which she goes to his bedroom and basically forces him to have sex with her . . . yuck! Again, no build up, no development, no romantic or sexual tension between them to lead me as a reader to believe that this was a true romantic connection between them. It seemed more like the typical YA trope of the young woman protagonist must have a romantic interest who must be a man.

Frankly, I thought there was a lot more of a true romantic-intellectual-emotional relationship between Agnieszka and Kasia—and that would have made for a much more interesting book, too!

I had to read the “about the author” piece in the back of the book after I finished reading to see if English was her second language—or if it had been written in Polish and translated into English. I was so confused over a lot of the wording choices, syntax, and grammar in the book. (For example, the rain “gouted” at one point. Not a word. And then she uses this as a verb again a page or two later.) The metaphors and similes were mixed (shaken and stirred at times) to the point that they pulled me out of the story while I tried to figure out what they meant. And her sentence structures were bizarre at times, requiring rereading to glean meaning.

Now, I will say that I enjoyed the last 15-20% of the book much more than the middle portion of it. Even after the excitement of the assassinations and Agnieszka and Kasia’s escape with the children, I ended up skimming most of their journey to the tower (went on way too long—I never had a doubt they’d arrive) and the battle between the Baron’s men and Marek’s. Again, it just went on too long.

My interest really didn’t pick up again until Agnieszka and Sarkan went back to the Wood to confront the Wood Queen. THAT was a great bit of character development for the antagonist and I like the way that it was resolved. I enjoyed the “epilogue” feel of Agnieszka now living in the Wood and slowly restoring it, leaching the poison out, putting to “rest” all of the souls it had taken over the years. And attending the festival with her family would have been a great ending, especially after meeting the little girl with her cow and basically promising to train her when she was old enough. That, to me, would have been the perfect way to end it.

I thought it was a big mistake to bring Sarkan back, and it weakened Agnieszka’s emotional journey for me. She was strong enough to stand on her own and was making her own life—a life that was *rooted* in the Wood and in her village and in her family. She’d already made the point that Sarkan not only wasn’t rooted there, he didn’t want roots. He’d done everything he could to keep from putting down roots. Yet here he was, demanding her attention. How long would it have been until he demanded she leave the wood/her village/her family to go back into isolation with him and do things the way he wanted to do them? After all, that’s all we see him do throughout the rest of the book.

But this is a problem I have with a lot of the romance novels that use the Alpha-Male/Bad Boy-must-be-tamed/reformed trope. People are capable of change, yes, but when a character trait is that firmly entrenched (especially since he’s been like this for more than 100 years), it’s very unlikely that they’re ever going to change their ways.