Sorry we missed Man-Titty Monday this week. Perhaps these images of Julian Darcangelo, aka Dark Angel, will make up for that.

Remember that Eduardo Verástegui was chosen by all of you during the I-Team Casting Couch competition to play the role of Julian should they be made into films. As an aside, a reader on Goodreads cast Hard Evidence herself and picked the exact Tessa and the exact Julian that we had chosen. Talk about amazing coincidence... Of course, I’d forgotten about Eduardo and ended up drooling over the photo she posted, but that’s another story.

I’m summoning Team Julian (and those of you who are members of Team RJMGZ) together for a reason. And that reason contains spoilers. So if you haven't read Hard Evidence beware!

Okay, here we go...


First, more handsome face. Okay.

Once in a while, I venture onto Amazon and read reviews. Sometimes readers send me links to reviews, and sometimes I’m writing and want to risk my mojo by reading what people have to say about my books. I try to respect everyone’s opinion. It’s not my job to tell them what to feel. (I will admit to taking issue with those who say the reporting doesn't seem realistic or that Kat is a bad journalist or that no reporter would sneak behind razor wire. I’m a National Journalism Award winner for goodness sake! I do think I know what reporters would and wouldn’t do. Okay, got that off my chest.)

Recently, I read a review in which a reader said that Julian was a terrible hero. Actually, she said he was “repulsive,” “a total disaster” and “a whore.” She also said that he raped Tessa and that Tessa allowed him to rape her. (Um... Okay.)

Granted, the scene to which this reader refer is an edgy scene. Julian, pushed to the emotional edge by Tessa, explodes and acts out the unworthiness he feels. Raised by a monster of a father, he’d had a nightmare childhood, which he’d tried to turn to good by becoming a federal agent and going after men like his father. But that has meant years of masquerading as a sexual predator. And all that ugliness — his childhood, the brutal nature of his job — is inside him. He believes it makes him unworthy. And so what does he do?

Here’s the scene (Argh! Spoilers! Avast! Turn back!):

“I had no idea, Julian. I didn’t know anyone could do anything so terrible to a woman!” She shuddered, a wave of revulsion, of sheer terror, passing through her.

He held her closer. “Try not to think about it. Just let it go.”

“Those poor women!” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t get the images out of my head! How do I make them go away?”

And then it hit her.

She sat up, stared at him. “My God, Julian, you’re exposed to this every day! How do you—?”

He pressed a finger against her lips. “It’s my job, Tessa.”

Something about the way he said it—the quiet strength, the resignation, the hint of buried despair—closed around her heart like a fist. “It hurts you.”

He sat up, rested his weight on one hand. “Somebody has to do it, and I’m better suited to it than most men.”

She ran a hand up his arm. “You’re as human as any man, Julian. You have the same right to feel as everyone else.”

“Don’t try to figure me out, Tessa.” He pushed off the bed, pulling away from her, a dark scowl on his face, an edge to his voice. “It’s a waste of your time.”

She hopped off the bed, cut him off at the door, her hand pressed against his chest to stop him. “Don’t try to push me away! It’s my time to waste.”

“Tessa!” One word, her name—a low growl of warning.

A muscle clenched in his jaw, his heart pounding against her palm.

She held her ground. “There’s nothing inside you that scares me, Julian.”

She saw in his eyes the moment his control snapped. In a heartbeat, she found herself pinned beneath him on the floor, her arms stretched over her head, her wrists cuffed by one big hand.

He glared down at her, an almost feral look on his face, his thighs forcing hers apart. “You really want to know what’s inside me?”

Then his mouth closed over hers in a brutal, punishing kiss.

Tessa didn’t object. Not when he forced his tongue roughly into her mouth. Not when he used his free hand to rip open her blouse, scattering buttons across the floor. Not when he ground his pelvis against hers, thrusting in crude imitation of sex.

He meant to frighten her, she knew. He wanted to show her how violent he could be, how badly he could hurt her. And yet it was himself he was hurting.

Tears slipped from the corner of her eyes down her temples as she yielded her body to his rage, her heart aching for him. Somehow he’d gotten her pants off and was now yanking his zipper down over the bulge of his erection. Then he buried himself inside her, pounded his fury and desperation into her without finesse or gentleness.

It was over quickly.

He groaned, shuddered, then sank against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath coming fast and heavy. For a moment he lay against her. “Jesus God!”

It was a cry of remorse. He released her wrists, started to pull away, but she held him fast, kissing his hair, her tears falling freely now.

Now, just to make it clear, I’m not upset with the reviewer who called Julian repulsive. Her review is her honest response to the story. From her point of view, he was despicable, and that’s valid and real for her. Reading this scene one can perhaps see why she felt this way.

However, those of us who understand Julian’s inner demons — i.e., me — see something different in this scene. And so I thought I'd ask you what you think Julian would do if the scene had been written differently, if it had been written like this:

But first, another break for handsome face. Okay.

She held her ground. “There’s nothing inside you that scares me, Julian.”

She saw in his eyes the moment his control snapped. In a heartbeat, she found herself pinned beneath him on the floor, her arms stretched over her head, her wrists cuffed by one big hand.

He glared down at her, an almost feral look on his face, his thighs forcing hers apart. “You really want to know what’s inside me?”

Then his mouth closed over hers in a brutal, punishing kiss.

"Julian, stop!” Tessa twisted and arched, trying to get away from him, her breath coming in pleading pants. “You’re hurting me! Please! Don’t do this!"


What do you think Julian would do in this scene if Tessa had fought him and screamed for him to stop?

And why in the world didn’t Tessa try to stop him? Is she okay with being abused? Can it really be rape if she understands him and allows him to do this?

Share your thoughts and I’ll follow up and explain how I saw the scene. Maybe we’ll even hear from Julian and Tess about it...

Also this week: RomCon comes to Denver! If you registered for the Pamela Clare Reality Tour please let me know ASAP via e-mail! I’d love to know who put their names in for the lottery. I will be posting my RomCon schedule here and on my Yahoo Group later in the week, and I hope to spend time with each and every one of you.

Plus, I’m psyched about meeting Anna Campbell in person and seeing KristieJ again.

NOTE: Blogger seems to be screwing up. I know some of you have commented and your comments aren't showing up. Neither are my responses. Blogger seems to have given Rita the last word. LOL! Maybe the glitch will clear up. Keep posting! They do end up in my e-mail Inbox, and I'm sure they'll show up later. — PC