BAND SINISTER, another QUILTBAG delight from K.J. Charles

BAND SINISTER
K.J. CHARLES
KJC Books
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Sir Philip Rookwood is the disgrace of the county. He’s a rake and an atheist, and the rumours about his hellfire club, the Murder, can only be spoken in whispers. (Orgies. It’s orgies.)

Guy Frisby and his sister Amanda live in rural seclusion after a family scandal. But when Amanda breaks her leg in a riding accident, she’s forced to recuperate at Rookwood Hall, where Sir Philip is hosting the Murder.

Guy rushes to protect her, but the Murder aren’t what he expects. They’re educated, fascinating people, and the notorious Sir Philip turns out to be charming, kind—and dangerously attractive.

In this private space where anything goes, the longings Guy has stifled all his life are impossible to resist...and so is Philip. But all too soon the rural rumour mill threatens both Guy and Amanda. The innocent country gentleman has lost his heart to the bastard baronet—but does he dare lose his reputation too?

My Review: I read this delightful fluff in a sitting. (A lying, to be more precise.) I'm pretty sure I was expecting the chuckles I got, but not the lesson in how to make explicit consent offered by the debauchee to the debaucher so well-integrated and even steamy. I've always contended that the largest sex organ is the brain, so really all it took was a bit of imaginative effort to make consent part of seduction and foreplay. Author Charles did this deftly, erotically, and satisfyingly.

I liked Guy, our virginal debauchee, more and more as time went by. He annoyed me to no end at first. I think he was expected to. His deep devotion to his younger sister was disarmingly sweet, so he wasn't one of those characters one wants to smack in the occiput with a niblick, but he did try my not-legendary (lack of) patience to its uttermost extent.

He looked different, he was sure. He looked as though he’d eaten the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, and everyone would be able to tell it on sight.

Rookwood is, not to put too fine a point on it, too good to be true. Beautiful, rich, thoughtful...*sigh*repine* (Speaking of rePineing, have y'all piped Chris Pine's lovely genitalia in Outlaw King on Netflix? If not, get thee hence! I suppose he had lines and stuff, but ya couldn't prove it by me.) So, Rookwood. Yes. Lovely man, his past is very deftly integrated into his present-day actions, as is Guy's; this being a KJ Charles book, that is unsurprising. She just does that. Part of the service. So why mention it? Because it's both satisfying and anachronistic for men to reveal their hurts and scars to...anyone, really...and Rookwood is an aristocrat, so his upbringing is simply not going to include emotional honesty. How Author Charles side-steps that issue is one of my great pleasures taken from this story.

Lord Corvin and John Raven, well, window dressing has never looked so good. Heh. Read the Society of Gentlemen books, y'all. Read KJ Charles. This is escapism done well.

“Country folk fuck,” Corvin said. “Well, they must; it’s not as if other entertainments present themselves. Plant things, dig things, knit things, fuck things. Make cheese.”

I laughed hard enough to forget (almost) the two (2) w-bombs Author Charles dropped on me.