Review: Wickedly Charming (Fates #7) by Kristine Grayson

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Title: Wickedly Charming

         Fates #7

Author: Kristine Grayson

Release Date: May 1, 2011

Published By: Sourcebooks Casablanca

Category: Romance – Contemporary – Fairytale – Paranormal

Type: Digital – Paperback

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Kristine Grayson Website 

Rating: 

Heat:

Blurb: 

He's given up on happily-ever-after...

Cinderella's Prince Charming is divorced and at a dead end. The new owner of a bookstore, Charming has given up on women, royalty, and anything that smacks of a future. That is, until he meets up with Mellie...

But she may be the key to happily-right-now

Mellie is sick and tired of stepmothers being misunderstood. Vampires have redeemed their reputation, why shouldn't stepmothers do the same? Then she runs into the handsomest, most charming man she's ever met and discovers she's going about her mission all wrong...

It's only natural that sparks fly and magic ensues when these two fairy tale refugees put their heads-and vulnerable hearts-together...

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Favorite Lines:

He felt overwhelmed when he thought of all the books he hadn’t read, all the books he wanted to read, and all of the books he would want to read. Not to mention all the books he hadn’t heard of. Those dismayed him the most.  ~  Charming

“Everyone wants to find their Prince Charming. Everyone, ‘Dave.’ Women. Gay guys. Even real men because they want what Prince Charming has. What you have. You don’t need a publicist. You just need to bask in your princely charmingness.”  ~  Mellie

Excerpt:

          Mellie slipped through the double doors into the loading dock. The media area always got the best loading dock, mostly because it needed a place to safely park the various trucks—including satellite trucks, which got brought in on the second day for the keynote speaker. 

          This year’s keynote wasn’t all that spectacular—some bestselling writer who wrote thrillers. In previous years, there’d been former presidents. Mellie had been hoping a former president this time. The former presidents did force the place to have added security, but that didn’t matter as much as the added media coverage. Just because one of those former heads of state visited—and they were, in her mind, rather minor, considering they only ruled for a maximum of eight years (why would anyone agree to that?)—every major news organization showed up in droves. And the fair got coverage on all the major channels as well as the minor ones. 

          No such luck this year. She’d been disappointed when she figured that out. But, she decided, this book fair would be a practice run at a bigger media blitz. She’d convince places to report on her grievances, and then maybe—if she got lucky—she’d become a keynote speaker at one of these things. Her goal this weekend was minor. All she wanted was local press coverage. 

          Although “local” in Los Angeles was a misnomer. If nothing else, her footage would air on major affiliates from here to New York. If this worked, she’d head from here to the publishing capital of the United States to press her case. 

          Her breath caught. Beneath it all, she was very, very nervous. She had a lot resting on this. 

          She really wanted to make a difference in countless lives, and this was the only way she knew how. 

          She wound her way around cables strewn across the concrete floor, past trucks with station logos emblazoned on the side, past brawny men with droopy pants carrying light and sound equipment up a small flight of stairs. 

          A number of the men smiled at her as they went by. She still looked good. Her old self—the pre-disaster self—would’ve seen that as a positive sign. Now she knew it for what it was, a symptom of the world’s—both worlds’ (hers and this one’s)—obsession with beauty over substance. 

          When she’d had real beauty, she’d had little substance. Now that she was older, she had a lot of substance, but she was nowhere near as beautiful as she had been before. 

          Although she did have a bit of glamour. A touch of the magical that made her seem larger than life here in the Greater World. She’d learn to use that to press for her cause. 

          She waited until another group of sweaty men carrying equipment went up the small flight of stairs into the main part of the building. Then she scurried up the steps behind them. 

          She had a few missions: First, she’d scout out the locations, find the green room, find the interview room, and find the celebrity hideout for the on-air talent consigned to this place. Then she’d see if she could line up an interview or two. If some security guard saw her badge and told her that she didn’t belong, she’d pull out her flyers, and bat her eyes, and ask (oh-so-dejectedly) where the publicity room was. 

          She’d also find the best place to stage a protest. Maybe she’d do it during the keynote speech, which wasn’t until mid-afternoon tomorrow. She knew from experience that she could probably store her signs in the loading dock or one of the small, unused closets alongside it. 

          She stepped into the hall. The lights were brighter here, the air cooler (air conditioning—one of the best inventions ever in the Greater World), and the floor softly carpeted. The color scheme left a lot to be desired—whoever thought rose red and sky blue made for a good combination?—but she wasn’t the one who had to put all that garishness on film. 

          She just had to use it to her advantage. 

          She clutched her book bag to her side, flipped her badge over so that its white back was the only visible part, and made her way to the keynote speech area. First she’d figure out if she had room for a protest there. Then she’d find the interview room. 

          The hallway was surprisingly empty—no sweaty men carrying equipment, no overly made-up on-air talent trying to find the green room. No one except that elegant man she’d seen earlier. 

          He stood with his back to her as he peered at the program listing outside one of the function rooms. 

          His back was stunning. She really couldn’t get over those broad shoulders, the hint of muscle through the beautifully tailored shirt, the way that it all tucked into the form-fitting pants— 

          She shook off the thought and made herself look away, her cheeks warm as if she were a young maiden like she’d been before her first marriage. 

          Of course the elegant man would be down here. He was probably on-air talent. He wouldn’t be national—she would’ve recognized him, even from (especially from?) the back. He was probably the main anchor at one of the local affiliates. They liked their main anchors to have some judiciously silver hair—sometimes they even made the men dye the silver in, so they had that classy salt-and-pepper look. 

          Male anchors had to look authoritative, but approachable. The knowledgeable, trustworthy guy on the block, not too handsome, but handsome enough. 

          Or in the parlance of fairy tales: Just Right. 

          He was Just Right, even from the back. Especially from the back. 

          Her cheeks grew even warmer. She pressed her hands against them, willing the reaction to go away. She didn’t need to get all hot and bothered over some local anchor. 

          Although he might make a good contact. Maybe she could even sweet-talk him into an interview. 

          She let her hands drop away from her cheeks. She took off her badge and smoothed her clothes. She swept one hand over her hair—it felt like all the strands were in place—and she suddenly felt thankful for that blush. It would highlight her skin (still flawless after all these years) and make her seem more vibrant. 

          She straightened, then sashayed toward him, trying to figure out how, exactly, she would approach him. Maybe she’d pretend to be an expert on the building. Or better yet, someone who was as lost as he was. They’d have something in common, a bit of instant camaraderie. 

          As she approached, she saw him turn slightly. He reached for the door, then stopped as if he thought the better of it. He glanced over each shoulder quickly, as if he were doing something wrong. 

          He didn’t see her. 

          Which was a good thing. 

          Because she stopped walking, her heart in her throat. 

          He wasn’t an anchor at all. 

          He was a Charming.

Dialogue Highlight:

          “What do you think about vampires?” Charming asked. 

          “Excuse me?” Mellie said. She looked over at him. She wasn’t sure, in all the noise and activity, that she had heard him correctly. 

          “Vampires,” he said. “What do you think of them?” 

          “Personally?” she asked. 

          He nodded, watching her as if her answer made all the difference in the world. 

          “I don’t like them,” she said. 

          “Why not?” he asked. 

          “Have you ever met one?” she asked. 

          He smiled, but didn’t answer. “I asked you your opinion. Just tell me. What do you think of them?” 

          “Why?” she asked. 

          “Indulge me,” he said. 

          “You’re not going to introduce me to one, are you?” she asked, her skin crawling. She had no idea how a vampire could be in this well-lit place, but there might be some magic that would make it possible, some magic she didn’t know. 

          “No,” he said. “I’m not going to introduce you to one. Just tell me why you don’t like them.” 

          “They smell,” she said, and then bit her lower lip. She hadn’t expected that to come out of her mouth. 

          But they did smell. If they just walked by, they smelled faintly of dried blood and graveyard dust. If one spoke, however, the stench of rotting flesh was overwhelming. 

          Her eyes watered just thinking about it. 

          “They do,” Charming said. “What else?” 

          “Why would I like one?” she asked. “Every vampire I meet wants to kill me. And you, for that matter, and anything else that is flesh and blood.” 

          She shuddered as she spoke. She’d had a few too many run-ins with vampires, particularly in the dark days after Snow’s wedding, and she really didn’t want to see another vampire ever again. 

          “Come with me,” Charming said, and without waiting for her response, led her to a gigantic booth filled with books. As she looked at the nearest display, she saw pictures of men dressed as vampires, standing in sexy poses, wind blowing back their capes. 

          “What’s this?” she asked. 

          “This,” he said, “is the modern vampire.” 

          “No, it’s not,” she said. “Vampires aren’t even human. They’re an entirely different species, one that preys on flesh and blood, like jackals. They’ll even go for the dead if they have no other choice, like hyenas. They’re—” 

          “I know that,” Charming said gently. “But vampires care about their reputation too. About the time we started dealing with those Grimm people, they had to deal with someone named Stoker. He let the Great World know about them—” 

          “So?” she said. 

          “And the Greater World heard how evil they are,” Charming said. 

          “And you think that’s bad?” she asked. 

          “What I think doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is what the Greater World thinks. And right now, the Greater World thinks vampires are sexy.” 

          She shuddered. The very thought was horrifying. Had no one in the Greater World seen a vampire? Not only did they smell, but they had huge bat wings that looked—yes, indeed—like capes, arching over them. They had gray skin—truly gray, gunmetal gray—and pale red eyes that could see movement in darkness, just like cats could. They had long fangs that sometimes cut their black lips. They were pure predators, who ripped through flesh looking for fresh blood. 

          There was nothing sexy about them. 

          Nothing. 

          At least from a human perspective. Other vampires might differ, since they did procreate—with each other. She didn’t know a lot about vampire reproduction, except that it happened like it happened most other places in nature—when a male and a female of the same species had some form of sex. 

          She shuddered again. Even that was more than she wanted to think about. 

          “Why would anyone write this?” she asked. “It’s all lies.” 

          More lies. Everywhere in this room—lies. 

          “Think about it, Mellie,” Charming said. “Who benefits?” 

          No one, so far as she could tell. No one benefited at all. Vampires didn’t look like this, and no one would want to have a close-up encounter with a real vampire. It was just… disgusting. 

          “How could anyone benefit from this?” she asked him. 

          He smiled. “When the barriers between our worlds eased,” he said, “and members of the Kingdoms came into the Greater World in larger numbers, someone named Polidori saw a vampire and wrote a story about him. As a predator. Vampires became a staple of fiction.” 

          “As heroes?” she couldn’t keep the contempt from her voice. 

          “No,” Charming said. “As villains. These were warning stories, made all the more powerful by a book you’ve probably heard of. Dracula by a fellow named Bram Stoker. He made vampires loathsome but powerful things to be avoided. And it worked for a very long time.” 

          “Worked?” she asked. 

          “To those in the Greater World who believe that fantasy and fairy tales have no basis in fact,” Charming said, “Stoker’s tales still served as a warning to stay away from that shadowy individual walking down a dark alley. Vampires had a tough time finding prey here.” 

          “Which is a good thing,” Mellie said. 

          Charming nodded. “Unless you’re a vampire.” 

          She looked at him sharply, then back at the books. Dozens—no, hundreds of them. Sexy human males with fangs and a bit of danger. Posters, clearly aimed at teenage girls, of a pasty boy with bright red lips and fangs. Statues of these boy/men, hats with vampire logos, and even some fake fangs sat on makeshift shelves. 

          “Vampires did this?” she whispered. 

          She thought she had spoken to herself, but Charming nodded. 

          “They went on a PR offensive in the last few years,” he said. “They decided they needed a public relations make-over. Vampires are all the rage now. Teenagers dress up like them. Prince Charming is passé. Now they all want to fall in love with Edward.” 

          “Edward?” she asked. 

          “Long story,” he said. “Suffice to say that the vampires used to be as angry about their own image as you are.” 

          She felt a bit dizzy. She had forgotten to breathe. She wasn’t sure she wanted to emulate vampires, but she was curious about this. After all, vampires had a bad reputation and unlike hers, theirs was deserved. 

          “So how did they do this?” she asked. 

          “They started writing.” 

          She blinked at him. Writing? Seriously? 

          He must have seen her shock, because he said, “You can’t defeat the power of the book. But you can make it work for you.”

Review: 

Mellie – Snow White’s evil stepmother – of all the reputations to be saddled with. If anyone knew the true story behind the completely skewed fairytale, they would have a completely different view of stepmothers. Unfortunately, those dang Grimm brothers set in motion some truly damning consequences for several of the people from her realm. Being a misunderstood stepmother, she possesses a hatred for all things book-related and launches a campaign to ban them all. But then she meets “Dave” who is really Prince Charming. Jaded by his own stereotype, he has come to the Greater World to escape the suffocating responsibilities of being himself. And avid book lover and self-professed nerd, he sets out to share his love of books with Mellie and explain why they are so important. Together they hatch a plan for an even better platform for Mellie to get her point made in a way that will bring attention to her cause – but in a positive way instead of a negative way. And unexpectedly, as they travel down the path of writing a book together, their attraction grows. But why would Charming want anything to do with an evil stepmother?

Charming is besotted. Attracted to Mellie from the start, but horrified to realize she is trying to ban his most loved hobby, he sets out to redirect her anger at stereotypes in a different direction. After realizing she had no skill to write a book what-so-ever, they agree to team up. But writing the book isn’t the only struggle they have to overcome – others are lurking in the shadows waiting to strike. An ex-wife, children, a stepdaughter, spells, magic, a jaded coffee shop patron...the list is seemingly endless. Charming is less than confident in his attraction towards Mellie, but once they get past all of this other garbage trying to interfere with their HEA, he’s determined to show her how much he’s come to care for her. Care – hell, more like a desire to the point of distracting fantasies of a future with her.

I have to admit I knew absolutely nothing about this series when I decided to read the book. I have not read anything by Ms. Grayson, had no idea that this was the 7^th book in the series, and literally only read it because I was immediately enchanted with the title and cover. And dang! Am I thrilled to have made that decision! We’ve been seeing more and more of the “other side of the story” as time goes by. Many of those types of stories actually mentioned within the pages of this book. I completely enjoyed Ms. Grayson’s take on not only the stereotypes attached to the evil side of fairytales but how even those put on a pedestal can suffer consequences of stereotypes. In other words, things are not always as they seem: Mellie having a completely different reality from what was portrayed and Charming viewing his persona as a fate worse than death. This book has a little bit of everything – intrigue, betrayal, magic, alternate worlds, love, redemption – everything. Also immensely enjoyed was all of the inclusion of books, books stores, a book being written, publicity, a book for book lovers to be sure! I absolutely adored the intertwining of the world of books, a twist on fairytales, and a sweet romance.

Ms. Grayson has a gift of being able to take something well known and completely remake it into her own creation. I found myself enjoying almost all of the characters presented, except for the few who were truly unlikeable. I was a bit taken back by Ella’s character, but given everyone else is so far removed from what is traditionally accepted, I probably shouldn’t have been. This book is broken into three sections – The Idea, The Rought Draft, and The Final Manuscript. This was an effective tool in easily moving forward with brief time jumps. My only issue was that toward the end, as I understood it, the time frame for a particular occurrence didn’t work. I don’t want to give anything away, but Charming’s last big hurdle and the negative press that suddenly surrounds the book tour all had to have occurred on the same day. However, this would not have been possible. Mellie should have faced her promotional woe a day later at the very least, but more likely a couple of days after Charming’s problem surfaced. Beyond that minor detail, I found the book highly stimulating and completely enchanting. Because I have not read any other books in this series, I cannot speak to if they are similar in presentation or not, but this format definitely worked for me. I plan to find out more about the Fates series in the future. For those of you who prefer more of a sweet romance and a different take on fairytale and the characters within them, tossed up with a bit of wit and charm, you’ve definitely come to the right place!

Kindle version purchased for my own personal library.