Lucky for me, I did enjoy Comanche Moon, and this isn’t going to be an exhausting recap of the book’s flaws. I was prepared to enjoy this one only because: A) it’s generally regarded as “The Best”, and B) I’ve enjoyed Catherine Anderson’s writing previously. I had only read one such book, prior to Comanche Moon-another book about a feisty white woman and the “savage” halfbreed who sought to tame her. The consensus I’ve gathered from many corners of Romancelandia seems to agree: these books are not great. When one thinks of Native American/Western romances from the 80s and 90s, one does not generally think of good things. (I was recently at a massive library sale and virtually every book pre-2000 had either a cowboy or Indian on the cover.) Regency might rule the day right now and always, but it seems that at one point Western/Native romances were giving it a run for its money. This is the stage Catherine Anderson sets in Comanche Moon, what seems to be by far the most popular of the massive array of Native American romances that flooded the market a few decades ago. Hunter especially, as his mother prophesied long ago about a blond woman who would steal his heart and sever him from his people irrevocably. Both think the other’s people are cruel barbarians, and have no desire to have anything to do with the other.
Hunter of the Wolf (“Hunter”) in turn suffered his own damages after watching his pregnant wife die after a brutal rape at the hands of white raiders. Loretta Simpson’s parents were killed by a Comanche war party, and the trauma of witnessing the attack has left her mute. While the American Civil War is fought to the east, white settlers and the Comanches are busy fighting a war of their own, leaving a lot of sore hearts behind.
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