Kelleen reviews Adriana Herrera’s Sapphic Christmas Romance Novellas

‘Tis the season for Christmas romance novellas! I don’t know about anyone else, but for me, Christmas novellas are perfect — they are a straight shot of holiday cheer (even if I’m really not feeling cheery), they keep my attention during a busy busy time of year, and I know others love them because their length is great for marathoning to reach end of year goals. And no one does a holiday novella like Adriana Herrera. Adriana Herrera is a bisexual Dominican romance novelist who writes really beautiful and vibrant stories about queer Black and brown folks.

So, here are three mini reviews of her sapphic Christmas romance novellas.

Mangoes and Mistletoe

cover of Mangoes and Mistletoe

This novella, set against the backdrop of a Great British Baking Show-esque reality show, features two Dominican heroines — one who grew up in the US and one n the DR — who are “randomly” paired up for the competition. It’s a sexy sapphic baking with only one bed and a “just for the week” hookup arrangement.

I was really compelled by the way Adriana Herrera explored the nuances between the different relationships that the two heroines had with their Dominican culture, and how they each wanted to represent their culture in their professional culinary pursuits. She tackled tough questions of immigration, culture, and ambition in such a fun, smart setting.

However, so much of the conflict in this one ended up being external because of the demands of the narrative, which didn’t really allow for the internal, relational conflict to flourish.

3.5 stars

Her Night with Santa

Her Night with Santa cover

This is a low plot, high steam erotic novella that is just so much fun. In this world, the role of Santa is passed down in a single lineage and the current Santa is a sexy butch woman. She arrives at her vacation home in the Dominican Republic on Christmas morning only to find a stranger naked in her bed.

Farnez, the niece of one of the Magi, needs a break from her family and her work, and her uncle has arranged for her to have a short layover in his friend Kris Kringle’s vacation home. What she expects to be a weekend alone with herself and her bag of toys turns into an erotic weekend full of all her butch Santa fantasies.

I love the way Adriana Herrera expands the world of erotic Santa novellas (yes, it’s a thing) to include not only a sapphic lady Santa, but also the mythology and traditions of Latinx cultures with the inclusion of the Magi. This book is so body positive and sex positive (Farnaz is a sex toy inventor and entrepreneur, and they put those toys to work). It’s fun and frothy and the heat is dialed up to 11.

4.5 stars

Make the Yuletide Gay

the cover of Amor Actually

This year, seven Latinx romance novelists put out a Christmas anthology based on Love Actually called Amor Actually, in which Adriana Herrera has not one but two queer novellas. Her first one, “Make the Yuletide Gay,” is a sapphic romance between a 40-something Latin Pop Star and her manager, who has been in love with her for a decade.

Full disclosure, I really hate Love Actually, but I really loved this novella (and the anthology as a whole). After five failed engagements with men, Vivi G realizes that perhaps her hot manager just might be in love with her and that she just might not be as straight as she thought she was.

This novella is low angst in the best way, full of really beautiful communication as these two try to navigate their boss/employee relationship while unlearning compulsory heterosexuality and honoring the fluidity of identity. There’s some really fantastic conversations about consent and normalizing how bodies look and work differently.

And, of course, it is very sexy.

5 stars

Kelleen is a new contributor to the Lesbrary. You can read more reviews on her bookstagram (@booms.books) and on Goodreads.

For more sapphic Christmas reads, check out these Wintry Sapphic Reads to Cozy Up With, Sapphic Christmas Books, and the Christmas tag.

Kelleen reviews Mrs. Martin’s Incomparable Adventure by Courtney Milan

Mrs. Martin’s Incomparable Adventure by Courtney Milan

In my opinion, the best historical romance novels are about today. Let me explain: though they’re set in a time in the past (usually Regency-Victorian England or Western North America in the late 1800s), the contents, themes, issues, and politics of the romance and the world are negotiating and commenting on the sociopolitical issues of today. This book takes that directive and blows it out of the water. Written in 2019 and set in 1867 England, this book is so intrinsically about the sociopolitical frustrations with patriarchal power and the both personal and systemic violences of that power. It is not nuanced, it is not subtle. It’s about two old women falling in love and going up against terrible men. It is the ultimate fantasy of taking down a truly bad man with your own sapphic joy, overdue spite, and arsonry spirit.

This novella starts the way all good romances do: Violetta has a problem. She has been sacked from her job managing the boarding house where she’s worked for 47 years exactly 11 months before she would be entitled to her pension. And so she devises a scheme to pose as the owner of the boarding house, con one of the tenant’s rent out of his wealthy old aunt, and pocket the 68 pounds.

The wealthy aunt, Mrs. Bertrice Martin, needs an adventure. And a romp through town with her new lady love to take down her truly Terrible Nephew is just what the doctor ordered.

I love this book. Both the prose and the dialogue are snappy and compelling in their oddness. Courtney Milan is a master of new, interesting story concepts, lovable, prickly characters, and real, swoony romance. And this straight-shot sapphic, anti-patriarchal romance without even a whiff of homophobia is, almost always, just what the doctor ordered for me as a reader.

I love a romance about people who don’t get romance novels written about them and this is one of those–old women with the wisdom, fear, joy, and pain of having lived a life subjugated by the capitalist, heterosexist patriarchy. Old women (Violetta is 69 and Bertrice is 73) with needs and desires and the hard outer shells that they have built up in order to live in a world that is not only not built for them, but one that actively resents them as “surplus,” unnecessary and unworthy. They must do the work to break each other open and to make themselves receptive and vulnerable to the intimate knowing that true romance requires. The physical intimacy is raw and breathtaking and so real, with real bodies and heart-rending tenderness.

Yes, Terrible Nephew is cartoonishly (and then very cathartically) bad, but all of the other men in this book are bad in different, more subtle, more real ways, and watching these women band together in their romantic love and partnership, as well as finding other women to support and fight alongside, is powerful.

On top of all that, there is casual cane usage and some intensely beautiful conversations about grief and depression in between bouts of rowdy farm animals and off-key carolers.

In this book, love (and crispy cheese) conquers all, even bad men and creaky bones.

Content warnings: sexual violence (off page), misogyny, ageism, depression, grief

Kelleen is a new contributor to the Lesbrary. You can read more reviews on her bookstagram (@booms.books) and on Goodreads.

Danika reviews Kushiel’s Dart by Jacqueline Carey

Love as thou wilt.

Such is the precept of Elua, the most important deity of Terre d’Ange, where Kushiel’s Dart takes place. If that sounds like the perfect commandment for a queer novel, it pretty much is.

Kushiel’s Dart is the first of a trio of trilogies based in the same world, though only the first trilogy feature Kushiel’s Dart‘s protagonist, Phèdre. If I could describe Kushiel’s Dart in only two words, it would be sex and politics, but religion would be a close third.

This is a 900 page book, which makes it pretty much impossible to discuss without some spoilers, but I’ll keep them to the first 100 pages or so. This is the story of Phèdre, sold as a young child to a… well, it’s tempting to say brothel, but in this world being a sex worker is being a Servant of Naamah, a semi-spiritual, respectable life. After all, love as thou wilt. Anyway, Phèdre goes on to become a pupil of an intellectual, taught to listen and spy while exercising her unique talents as (minor spoiler) an anguissette: the rare trait of experiencing pleasure in pain. As such, Kushiel’s Dart has graphic, but tasteful, I think, descriptions of sex, including sadomasochism.

The first half of the novel builds slowly, with Phèdre reporting to Delauney, her tutor, the things she learns through being an anguissette. Personally, I found it difficult to follow all the names and politics, but I have a terrible head for that. It didn’t stop me from enjoying it, though. The second half is more fast-paced, with greater stakes. It includes conspiracy, love stories, and quite a bit of travel.

Phèdre may have the most involved relationships with men during the course of the novel, but she takes both male and female clients, like most Servants of Naamah, and perhaps the most erotic relationship Phèdre has is with a woman.

I’m sorry this review seems little jumbled. I liked Kushiel’s Dart, but it was definitely a thorough world-building, one that lost me few times, since I couldn’t always keep track of the names or politics. I won’t be picking up the next one, but I definitely enjoyed Kushiel’s Dart and I’m hoping to eventually re-read it.

 

Have you read Kushiel’s Dart or another lesbian/bi women/women-loving-women Fantasy novel? What did you think of it?