Two Against the Odds
I don’t normally read romance novels – no, really I don’t! Well, except for King of the Desert, Captive Bride which was from a school fete, and the hilarious brain-candy one that was an internet freebie from my internet freebie phase1 and which I have actually read at least twice due to the hilarious brain-candy nature of the plot.2 But despite reading them for minor hilarity, romance novels are not my genre of choice.
Which is not to say I don’t appreciate either pulp fiction or romance plots – fanfic certainly falls into the first category, and Bujold’s Sharing Knife series certainly fall into the latter – but romance novels are just not my genre. I think it’s the ‘real world’ aspect that throws me – I find it hard to suspend my disbelief to a sufficient level while reading real world fiction.3 I do however follow the RSS feed of a romance novel book blog [http://dearauthor.com/]. And that’s how this particular gem came across my radar.
Two Against the Odds stars an artist… and an Australian Taxation Office auditor.4 Having just started working at the Australian Taxation Office (ATO) a scant few months before, I just could not resist. One online purchase and a couple of days later, and my copy arrived in the post.
It was hilarious. Now, I haven’t worked for the ATO for very long, and I don’t work in audit at all, but oh dear…
We’re not like this, I swear.
I certainly don’t recite parts of the Taxation Administration Act 1953 to lessen unwanted arousal – and dammit, if I did, I’d get it right! There ain’t no ‘party of the first part’ in the collected tax Acts – and I searched both the ITAAs, the TAA and the other various pieces of taxation legislation.5 I'm also almost certain that ATO auditors don't get bonuses for successful prosecutions. Mind you, I am pretty certain that any ATO auditor who behaved like this one would have been fired. That part of the book was accurate.
As far as the plot goes – well, it was all fine. Like I said, this is not my genre, so I didn't really get that into it. Lexie is an artist, who likes new age things and doesn't like thinking about realities. She certainly doesn't like thinking about the notices the ATO keeps sending her that mention something about a $20,000 tax bill. Rafe is ten years younger and would rather own a boat than be an accountant, but he's a far more practical soul and knows he needs the money. Naturally, they are thrown together in the course of his audit and the inevitable consequences ensue. (Which is not so good in terms of ATO impartiality.) There are added complications involving Lexie's quest to win the Archibald Prize, the terrible state of her parents' marriage, and her awareness of her ever-ticking biological clock. However, I think it will not be a spoiler to say that – eventually – they all live happily ever after.
This is not a very serious review, but that's because I didn't read this book for the fiction. I was entertained, but I was entertained mostly because of where I work. If you want a more serious review from someone who appreciates the genre more than I do, then check out the review that turned me on to this book here.
'You're being audited.'
That's hardly his most winning opening line, but Rafe Ellersley isn't here to make friends. He'd promised himself—and his boss—that this audit would be different. This time, he would be the consummate Australian Tax Office investigator. Cool, detached, professional. He'd bring Lexie Thatcher, tax-dodging artisan, to justice with ruthless efficiency. No more bending the rules. It's the only way to save his job.
But Lexie proves a far greater challenge than he's been prepped for. Her world is a crazy canvas of chaos and confusion, complexity and color, unlike anything he's ever known. So who can really blame a tax guy like him for what happens next….
2OK, well there’s this girl whose father has gambling debts, so he sells her to a disfigured nobleman; meanwhile, there’s this irritating Yankee, who is the despised cousin of the disfigured nobleman. So obviously she falls in love with both of them, and OMG! trauma! – she calls out the name of the cousin while having sex with the disfigured nobleman. Only it turns out that he was actually in DISGUISE and was the Yankee ALL ALONG! So there’s no problem with being in love with both. Meanwhile other vaguely plot-related stuff happens and her father is not really her father after all. They all live happily ever after, even her wastrel brother, who has to stick with having the horrible gambling father.
3Same problem I have with the theatre. I can’t watch plays; I get upset because they don’t spontaneously burst into song!!
4DISCLAIMER: I work for the Australian Taxation Office, but this review (and my entire internet presence, for that matters) reflects my personal views. I in no way represent the ATO, nor the views of the ATO, and frankly I’m not sure that the ATO really has a lot to do with literary criticism anyway.
5In fact, based on an Austlii search, there is only one Act in the entirety of Australia that contains the phrase 'party of the first part' and it's not even Commonwealth legislation. It's in the Bungendore to Captain's Flat Railway Agreement Ratification Act 1937 (NSW) and only in the Schedule, not even in the main body!
