Series Spotlight: The Fatal Series by Marie Force

I’ve long been wanting to start a new feature on the blog which spotlights book series that I’ve found and truly enjoyed.  A lot of times I get hooked on a series, find that it’s been out for a while, then binge myself on 5 or 6 books in a row, finding myself totally entranced by the series and author. One such occurrence happened when I found the Fatal series by Marie Force.  Currently 6 books and a novella, the Fatal series is a hybrid of the crime and romance genres.


The Fatal series follows Sam Holland, a police detective for the Metropolitan Police Department in Washington D.C., as well as Nick Cappuano, a chief-of-staff turned Senator.  The two had a memorable one-night stand a few years prior, but they are now brought back into each other’s lives as Nick’s boss, Senator O’Connor, has been murdered.  As the head of the murder investigation, Sam becomes a constant part of Nick’s life again, much to his surprise.  After their one-night stand Nick tried contacting Sam over and over in the hopes of beginning a relationship with her.  Circumstances neither of them could have known about kept them apart, and this reintroduction has begun to rekindle the feelings both have never been able to truly suppress over the years.


So, why do I love this series? First and foremost, the characters.  Nick is AWESOME.  He’s not threatened by Sam’s powerful career or her need for control.  Nor is he perturbed by the thick armor she wears to deal with the world.  Instead, he pushes her to think in new ways, express her emotions, and allow herself to need those around her.  His love, support, and encouragement help her shed the tremendous amount of stress, guilt, and pressure she’s carried around.  Sam’s an incredible character (AND woman) in her own right.  She’s strong, resilient, intelligent, and powerful.  The two together are awe-inspiring.  They can achieve anything together, as their love truly makes them better, stronger people.

I’m glad that Force chose to have Nick and Sam’s love story spill out over multiple books instead of having everything happen in one.  It makes their relationship and subsequent marriage more believable and realistic.  It also allows their development as a couple, individuals, and professionals  to grow leaps and bounds.

So, what else is so special about this series besides the characters? The non-stop action, for one thing.  Also, the intriguing mysteries!  While Sam and Nick’s love story is the heart of this series, it’s not the main plotline in each book.  The mysteries that Force comes up with are super fascinating, and they take up a good portion of each book, filling out the romantic portions nicely.  It’s obvious she’s a talented writer the more you read of the Fatal series.  Each book will have you guessing from start to finish.

In order (with my ratings) the series is:

  1. Fatal Affair – 5 out of 5 Stars
  2. Fatal Justice – 4 out of 5 Stars
  3. Fatal Consequences – 4 out of 5 Stars
    1. Fatal Destiny (novella) – 5 out of 5 Stars
  4. Fatal Flaw – 3 out of 5 Stars
  5. Fatal Deception – 5 out of 5 Stars
  6. Fatal Mistake – 3 out of 5 Stars

If you’re looking for something new to read that is truly out of the box (I mean come on, murder and romance!?) I suggest giving this series a shot.

Living With a Book Addict: Being a Genre Snob


From Reddit

Hello there Reflections fans.  It’s been a little while since I’ve graced the pages of this blog with a Living With a Book Addict series post, so I figured I’d remedy that today.  The subject of my post is genre, and although this is a wide-ranging topic that could encompass genre analysis, genre stereotypes, or any other form of analysis, I shall limit myself to the act of being a genre snob, and what it has done to my reading habits.  I will define said snobbery shortly.

First, the inspiration for this post must go to Reddit.  I spend a good amount of time on Reddit, much to Kimberly’s chagrin, but when the top post today encompassed books (here it is), neither of us could argue the fact that our two favorite pastimes had collided.  I think that this particular bookstore’s idea in covering their books with brown paper and only giving clues to the genre and plot of the book is clever.  It prevents cover stereotyping, and to a lesser extent genre stereotyping.  For example, if you happened to have a particular bias against historical fiction, but noticed the words “manhunt”, “assassination attempt”, and “President”, you could very well be picking up a current Tom Clancy thriller as a historical fiction book about Lincoln’s assassination.  The point is, both contain similar elements of suspense, action, and stately Presidents, but the latter just happens to be set in the past, hence historical fiction.  What someone would originally dismiss purely based on genre alone could actually be quite similar to a book that he or she actually likes.  It’s expanding the old adage of judging a book based on its cover and expanding it to cover a wider meaning.  Because genres aren’t explicitly spelled out, often it’s harder to realize that genre stereotyping is happening, although often one does so based on a perceived opinion about a particular genre.

As far as my own personal involvement with genre stereotyping (or snobbery, as it may be) goes, I have to admit that I always stuck up my nose at the romance genre.  I thought that no matter how you dressed it up, you would eventually get to the sappy and syrupy core of a boring romance between two individuals which would make me bored out of my mind and ready to throw the book out.  In fact just the other day, however, Kim was describing a new crime-based series to me authored by Marie Force (the Fatal Series).  I seemed quite interested in the books, until she reminded me that Force was primarily a romance writer.  My thoughts immediately soured, although I thought back to my original interest in the series.  I was being just as shallow as those who don’t read a book based on a cheesy cover.  I should give it a try.  I will give it a try.  And thus begins my start as a recovering genre snob.