I am vociferously passionate about good books. And I hate adverbs.
Nope, didn’t work for me at all, this one. Your mileage may vary, but unfortunately, I found this to be a story that was more of an idea than the finished product. And it is with a strange feeling of déjà vu that I read scene after scene - is this a former fanfiction writer?
The story starts with 6 pages (!) of info dump, then one page of something actually happening—in two different POVs, switching every other paragraph. Arrggh. This is then swiftly followed by another 10 pages of info dumps.
The extremely confusing jumping of POVs, back and forth, is totally haphazard. Yeah, I’m not a fan. I don’t like being confused. Also, we are put inside the head of every character in the story, so we know what everyone thinks and feels all the time. Even if we’re supposed to be in the POV of just one character. Right. As I said. Confusing.
There is a distinct un-American feel to the content—even though the spelling seems American. The jock plays soccer, and the mom serves tea when they sit down to talk.
The intimate scenes would have been greatly improved by actually naming the parts by real names (if you absolutely have to tell me what he is grabbing, as if I don’t understand myself), but using straining erections, and throbbing and/or engorged hardnesses are not helping the sexy feelz at all. For once tongues weren’t battling for dominance, but asking for entrance. I don’t know which I like less.
There is the mandatory moment of “I must remove myself from the equation because my love-interest deserves a better life,” after which there is even a moment of mistaken happenings through a telephone call. Yes, it was about a wedding, and not about a funeral, but I sat there wondering if he was going to run to Volterra now.
Add pulsing essences and I’m out. Sorry. Nope.
I was given a free copy of this book from the publisher, Dreamspinner Press, and a positive review wasn’t promised in return.