The best O.G. romances

A secret identity, a strong female lead, and a smart, handsome, heroic aristocrat pretending to be a bondslave were all it took for me to pick up this circa 70s romance.

I’ve always loved a rich plot and detailed descriptions of an era and its settings. In every chapter, the late Ms. Woodiwiss proves how brilliantly she researched pre-colonial America, the Caribbean rum trade, pirates, 1700s clothing, and tall ships. And that’s not to say she littered the plot with unnecessary exposition. She took me to a place I could see, feel, and taste. Her writing is visceral.

I journey along with Shanna and Ruark Deverell Beachamp at least once a year. The love scenes alone are enough to keep me coming back to this book. 

This book is the ultimate “lovers torn apart by class differences” story. For me the premise has always held great appeal. I find nothing better in a romance than the longing, the heartbreak, and the anticipation of a lover’s reunion.

This story had double the pleasure since we experience the original slow burn of Jens Harken and Lorna Barnett falling in love and then their passionate reunion.

Ms. Spencer is a master of historical fiction, her research seamlessly drawn on every page. Her book is ripe with details about Gilded Age wealth, tall ships, and regattas. But it’s ultimately the characters and how well-crafted and complex the various relationships are that kept me spellbound. I shed every tear and felt every pain right along with them.

After watching two film adaptations of Rebecca, I decided it was time to read the book. It exceeded my expectations.

It wasn’t until the end I realized Mrs. DeWinter had no name. I was so captivated by the narrative I never noticed. Some stories I read as an outsider while merely observing the place, time, or plot. But Rebecca is a world, and I walked among the residents of her home, Manderley. 

I have never felt so attuned to the insecurities, fears, and temperaments of the personalities in a book as I did with this novel. Ms. Du Maurier doesn’t write characters; she breathes life into them.

And as if the writing wasn’t appealing enough on its own, the twist ending proves how truly clever the author was.

I am a great fan of 20th-century fiction and family sagas, so I was immediately drawn to this book. I love a story in which the author masters the art of what drives characters—success, failure, determination, and resignation.

This book is the most perfect example of a story that digs deep into the attributes as well as the flaws of the Jordache siblings and their parents. It has a Cinderella story, rags to riches, and fall-from-grace elements that never feel formulaic.

I love a book that draws the reader so far into the mindset of the characters that you have no choice but to root for them. And when an author wraps a story in such beautiful prose, I never want it to end. 

I’ve loved this book since I was thirteen. Even as an adolescent, I was swept up by the romance and the tragedy.

When I read this book, I’m instantly on the Yorkshire moors, sooty clouds hovering above, watching Heathcliff, his dark hair ruffling and his tattered sleeves flapping in the brittle wind. If unrequited love is a romance trope, then this book is the unqualified architect of the genre.

I periodically dust off my copy, yellowed pages and all, for a re-read. I’m such an immersive and visual reader; I can see the torture in Heathcliff’s eyes, the despair in Isabella’s, and the denial in Cathy’s. And just when I feel the setting is too dark and gothic, Hareton Earnshaw, the character I’ve come to view as the hero, realizes justice.