SPOILERS! Seriously, if you don't know this about me, it's because you googled in here, so just take yourself along to some SAFE review site, instead, whydoncha.
Anyway. In the JAKiverse (that would be Jayne Ann Krentz), if you see a realtor, _run_. Call 911 and make sure you spend exactly NO TIME with the realtor. They are dangerous. So far, the realtor in this outing has been a drug dealer, may have participated in an attempted date/gang rape that was thwarted by removal of the victim before the crime could take place, and commits arson. And I'm not even 2/3rds of the way through the book and he's a Real Minor Character. But that's realtors in a Krentz novel for you.
The heroine is 29 and the hero is 32 (or thereabouts) -- 16 and 19 in the prolog. There are a variety of odd bits that don't make sense in the setting, but make perfect sense of you read a lot of JAK: Rainshadow Farm, for example, has a name that fits the Pacific Northwest, but not California wine country (perhaps I'm wrong and my Dear Readers will inform me). There are the usual motifs: The heroine inherits a house and small business from a recently deceased aunt whose life partner was also a woman. Decades ago, when Krentz got her start in the categories, her Men Were Men and her Women Were Women in ways that can really startle a current reader. She has a whole theory of romance (novels) to this effect (_Dangerous Men and Adventurous Women_), but over time the interactions between the Manly Men and the Adventurous Women have evolved, and _River Road_ has a bunch of tense moments where the hero attempts to control aspects of the heroine's life that the heroine then objects to, with varying degrees of success, but often undermined by the author's plot tending to side with the man.
But you know, whatever. I know this. I've been (re)reading this stuff for weeks so I _really_ know this.
Here's what I want to know.
Why all the erectile dysfunction commercial jokes? Lucy is 29. Mason is 32. Now, to be fair, they don't really _act_ that age, but ED commercial jokes make a helluva lot more sense if the person making the joke has, er, some skin in the, um, game. Which I'm not really thinking is present at this age.
I'm desperately trying to remember if I ever made that kind of joke Back in the Day. Usually only _while they were on TV_ -- not whenever there happened to be crashing surf in the background as I went from cute boutique-y store to atmospheric bistro in a small town in a touristic locale. Which I _did_ do at that age, altho people thought it was a little weird for someone my age to do at the time, and nearly everyone else doing it was certainly decades older than me.
I'm starting to wish that JAK would write some stories about people whose age is a better match for the jokes and entertainment choices she tends to include. I would totally love to read those. You know, instead of Mason Fletcher, Jessica Fletcher gets a new boyfriend, type of thing . . .