The Bodyguard
By Joan Johnston
Not Read: May 2010
Rating: Ungh
Truly disappointing. I wanted to flesh out my Men In Kilts category, and I just couldn’t bring myself to finish this.
Scotland, approximately Regency-era-ish? Hard to know.
I wasn’t too keen on the opening chapter, but, hey, openers are hard. Kitt’s father, the head of Clan McKlintock, is dying, and he asks her To Do Something For Him. We don’t get to know what. He also names her the new Clan Chief, defying all sorts of convention, etc. She is worried, but determined.
Cut to a ship in the middle of a terrible storm. Alex, lord whatever of Blackthorne Abbey, is being tossed about and could well die. Cue lengthy flashback to the past ten years of his life! He used to a naive romantic, he married a slutty, mean-spirited woman named Penthia (PENTHIA.) and they had twin girls. Penthia’s a bitch, slept with his brother, and told Alex the twins are not his. Alex was all, like, sensible and shit, and shunned the children even though he has adored them since they were born and still does. Love children, hurt by mother, put up giant wall so the kids think you’re a cold bastard. Totally makes sense. In the last few months, Penthia died of drunkenly falling down the stairs (thus completing the unholy checklist of unforgivable sins), and Alex only realized how much he loves and misses his children nine days ago, when he resolved to not be such a dick to them anymore. Then he left for Scotland. Clever.
Wait, where we were? Oh, right, on a ship about to sink! The ship sights land, but the other sailors have it in for him. They beat the crap out of Alex, and toss him overboard. He nearly drowns, but is awake long enough to see that the ship does sink. Fade out to painful oblivion.
Fade in to amnesia on the beach. Who am I? What am I doing here? How do I know some things but not others? Goodness, I am virtually nekkid. And in pain. He stumbles off to find sanctuary. But, this is Scotland, and he is English, so the locals would rather give him another beatdown than a warm meal. Penniless, and looking like a bleeding Quasimodo, he stumbles onward to the nearest English enclave… also called Blackthorne.
Back to Kitt. Six months have passed, and she’s had no real success securing succor for her people. See, a few generations ago, these bastard English fought her people and won, and took over Castle McKlintock, leaving her family landless. The even more bastardy current Duke of Blackthorne has been taxing them all into starvation, and she’s trying to get the courts to overrule something or other. This is too slow. She’s going to have to rely on dead old daddy’s plan. If the clansmen will stop trying to rape her into marriage long enough for her to try it.
Luckily, attempted rape is interrupted by horrifically swollen amnesiac, who is mighty strong for a fop. He’s learned his lesson, and somehow pulls off a flawless Scottish accent. Despite, oh, everything, there is Magic Attraction between them. Kitt hires him to be her impartial bodyguard, or gille-coise. Somehow helping clean him up involves stripping him naked and oggling his muscles. A lot.
Kitt learns that the duke’s ship sank, and his presumed dead. Oh noes! Now what’s she going to do!? Daddy wanted her to marry the bastard so she could win the family home back that way. Amnesiac duke is amazed–she would do such a thing? For her people, yes!
Kitt returns to trying to convince her clan that it’s ok for a woman to lead them. This is supplemented by Alex The Amnesiac doing all her thinking for her, and having the sword and confidence to back it up.
Fuck this shit, I’ve got better things to read. I hope.
Finally, don’t be fooled by that pretty cover up there. It’s got one of those hidden illustrations. And oh, what an illustration. He’s really fuckin’ awful, here let me scan it for y–
AAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!
She’s built a Frankenstein monster to serve her sexual whims! Just look at the skin rot! No–no, she’s about to power him on by programming his belt buckle! No! No, mad lady, no! Please, spare us from your Fabio-Bot!!
And, please, please, spare us from really bad printing.You need to click on it to appreciate the graininess.
*shudder* Their undead, malevolent eyes… their awkwardly tilted heads… the horror…
