By day, I'm a domestic violence prosecutor. By night, I read romance to restore my faith in love, relationships, and humanity in general.
Kinda boring and forgettable. 2 years ago, Megs married Godric for convenience after learning she was pregnant with her dead lover's kid, but Megs lost the baby, and they've lived separately since. Now Megs wants a child and reasonably believes her lawfully wedded husband is the best man for the job. I liked that the main characters had both loved and lost before and so were gun shy about getting emotionally involved (a nice counterpoint to the Insta-love that is so prominent elsewhere), but I found my attention wandering throughout the book.Time to take a break from historicals!
I live in rural Vermont, where this is set, and I give "Bittersweet" major bonus points for authenticity. It's really rare to find books set in my home state, and too often what few there are portray Vermont as some kind of fairytale simulacra of what Hollywood envisions Small Town New England to be like. Bowen's Vermont is real and gloriously imperfect -- beautiful but sometimes desolate, a place where people nurture a deep sense of neighborliness and community while simultaneously experiencing profound personal loneliness, a place where outsiders are greeted with distrust (sometimes deserved) even as locals sometimes fail to look after their own.
I loved "Bittersweet" because it felt so authentic and familiar, and the characters felt real and relatable. I loved the message of the story about the connection of food to community, and the vital role of local agriculture to maintain that balance. However, upon reflection, I agree with the criticisms of other reviewers that there is a subtle sexism in the story -- mostly the men on the farm do manual labor, while the women work in the kitchen, and the hero of the story makes the decisions while "explaining" them to his mom, who probably as at least as much legal standing as part-owner of the farm. I wasn't bothered by this at the time, particularly since there are some exceptions -- the heroine of the story in an early scene does a kickass job of butchering a pig, for example, and the hero's sister is a law student. I also didn't love some of the too-convenient plot twists that came at the very end of the story to tie up lose ends quickly -- resolutions that the characters had designed and work toward would have been more satisfying than sudden intervention by outside forces.
Even though the story wasn't perfect, it got my home state so spot on that I give it a full five stars. I will definitely read on in the series to see how Bowen tackles Vermont's ongoing opiate epidemic.
I picked this up on sale. It's a little preachy with several feminist rants about the unfairness of the treatment and compensation of women's professional soccer players versus men's, but since I'm in the choir being preached to, that didn't bother me too much. I found this a quick and entertaining read, funny and well written, well worth the $1.99 I paid for it. I plan to read on in the series.
I've read several "big brother's best friend" books, but this is one of the only "big brother's enemy" stories I can recall. That's not even the quirkiest thing about it: The heroine is a compulsive shoplifter, and the hero sucks in bed! Good, good fun.
Special ops heroes aren't usually my thing, but this guy (Chase) is funny and emotionally available. The plot involves an international special ops crew investigating suspected terrorist activity in Paris, so it strikes a little close to home given the recent terror attacks in Paris and Brussels.
Novella involving art forgery and mistaken identity. Kind of insta-lovey, but that's probably a function of the novella (as opposed to full length novel) format.
These are going to be quicky mini-reviews while I try to catch up on the last month's untracked reading.
This was very entertaining and sexy. First person POV from male protagonist (who is not a douche or manwhore, for all he's been around the block). Best friends' little sister trope. Some miscommunication toward the end diminished my enjoyment.
Since the abomination that is the Fifty Shades phenomenon, the romance genre has been glutted with BDSM, and it can be hard to separate the wheat from the chaff. I liked this book about two novices exploring kink together. Beatrice overhears the cop she's crushing on on the phone with a professional dominatrix service, and decides to offer her services instead. Neither of them know what they're doing, but they find their way together by going slowly and by paying attention to each other. If you're looking for hardcore, this is likely to be too sweet and too vanilla for you, but this story has enough spice to please more casual readers.
My one frustration with the story, which is somewhat ironic given how well the lovers communicated and checked in with each other while navigating their mutual intro to kink, is that outside of the bedroom Beatrice and Warren are terrible communicators. They make wrongheaded assumptions about each other and expect the other to know things they've never discussed, and the resulting mistakes and hurt feelings were just as annoying here as these sorts of plots always are.
I liked the first book in this series, "Pairing Off," but I found "Getting it Back" to be a total snoozefest. I had to force myself to finish. The plot is very slow and detailed, and I never warmed up to the characters, who don't communicate very well. The ending was a total cliche. Ugh!
I usually love Charlotte Stein, but Never Loved didn't really work for me. If you've read Stein before, you know her "voice" tends toward stream of consciousness. I've never had a problem with that before, but here for some reason I just found it tiresome and hard to follow. I also found the plot of this book was full of holes. The heroine and her brother were abused by their dad, but got away from him somehow, came to America for some reason, have tons of money for reasons that were either not explained or which I may have skipped in my impatience with the afore-mentioned rambling stream of consciousness, plus there's some gangster/loanshark types that threaten the HEA. Because reasons.
But, as usual, Stein writes hawt smex.
I picked this up on sale at the recommendation of a friend, but I was only moderately impressed. The writing is okay, the characters are likable, the pacing is good and the ending is satisfying... but there's also a fair bit of insta-love and unnecessary melodrama and poor communication between the lovers.
The title and the blurb make it seem like the whole point of this story is Bliss losing her virginity, but that's an oversimplification of what is actually a reasonably interesting conflict. Bliss almost hooks up with a guy at a bar, only to learn that he's her neighbor and, later, that he's her professor. Their relationship is therefore forbidden -- but they can't turn off their feelings. Around the same time, Bliss realizes that one of her best friends is in love with her, which is a complication she doesn't need.
If forbidden love stories are your catnip, and you don't mind a first-person narrative (by a really naive and unsophisticated narrator), you might like this book a lot.
I received this ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Years ago, Kate and Liam met in Vegas and had a quickie wedding, followed by an only slightly less quickie divorce. When Kate's hotel-magnate boss sends her to scope out the prospects of a struggling fishing resort on a remote island off of Canada's west coast, she is alarmed to discover Liam and his family own the place.
This one was a slow burner -- too slow, for my tastes -- but I liked the setting. I liked Kate but never really connected with Liam, who is not a good communicator and tends toward flash judgments.
I received this ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I wrote in my last review that if Courtney Milan published her grocery lists, I'd probably read them. Well, if Charlotte Stein published her grocery lists, they'd probably turn me on.
I'm not usually a fan of New Adult, but I loved the premise of Never Sweeter. The heroine, Letty, was viciously bullied in high school, and I'm not talking simple name calling or fat shaming (though I don't mean to minimize those hurts): a truck full of jocks literally ran her off a cliff. Two years later, she's at college, recovered from her physical injuries and starting to recover from the emotional damage -- but just as her life is coming together, one of the jocks responsible for running her down shows up in her film class.
I thought the way Stein addressed Letty's bullying and the long-term impact on her self-esteem and her ability to trust was brilliant. -And the way she made Tate a believable and likable hero, without minimizing his culpability for what he did in high school, was amazing. Few writers could pull that off in an authentic way, but Tate is vulnerable and remorseful and very, very appealing, and the reader falls in love with him right along with Letty, even while sharing Letty's extreme reservations (since we know what he's done).
My only complaints about the book are that the end is a bit too sudden, and there's a subplot involving the mafia which felt like an unnecessary slathering of Crazysauce on top of an otherwise extremely authentic and relatable story. These are relatively minor quibbles, though. I wholeheartedly recommend this, and I'll definitely read it again.
If Courtney Milan published her grocery list, I'd probably read it. She's at the tippity-top of my auto-buy list. She's smart, funny, and unabashedly feminist: totally my catnip.
Her Every Wish is a novella about Daisy, who was introduced in Milan's last novel, Once Upon a Marquess. One thing I loved about this novella is that it isn't set in the glittering ballrooms of the ton at all, but rather in the seedy, working-class neighborhood where Daisy shares a room with her aging mother. This gives us a view into a part of London that the historical romance genre rarely visits, and it's refreshing.
Daisy works in a flower shop and dreams of opening her own mercantile, but no one takes her ambitions seriously because she's a woman. Some time ago, Daisy had a liaison with Crash, but it ended badly in a way that isn't revealed until well into this novella. Crash is initially portrayed as a flirt and a cad, but as his character is revealed, it's clear he's not that simple. Crash is descended "from a long line of sailors and dock whores" and doesn't even know what race he belongs to, which is also a refreshing contrast to the typical aristocratic lords so much more common as romantic heroes.
However, this story frustrated me because it revolves around a Big Misunderstanding trope. Daisy and Crash went to bed together, then one said something the other misunderstood, and suddenly their great love was over before it began. Big Mis stories generally don't work for me because they require the main characters to be poor communicators, and when you have characters as smart as those drawn by Ms. Milan, it's frankly hard to believe they could be so thickheaded.
Her Every Wish also fell a little flat because of its structure. Crash and Daisy went to bed together and had a falling out, but the reader never gets to see the buildup of their relationship -- how they met, what attracted each to the other, how Daisy put aside her maidenly modesty and decided Crash was worth her virginity, what made Crash fall in love. Without that backstory, it's hard to feel invested in the rekindling of their relationship during the novella.
Finally (and this is a very minor quibble), I am not a stickler for historical accuracy by any means, but lately Milan's witty dialogue sometimes strikes me as so anachronistic that it yanks me out of the story in a way I find jarring. For example, there was a variation on the phrase, "Come to the dark side. We have cookies," that made me roll my eyes. If this sort of thing makes you crazy, this may not be the book for you.
Jill Shalvis' contemporary romances are like your favorite junk food. Reliably satisfying, exactly what you're expecting, but often a little disappointing when you get to the end and realize you've squandered your calorie allotment and could have made better choices.
Nobody but You, like most Shalvis books, features a tough alpha hero with a soft, gooey center, and a perky, quirky heroine who's down-on-her-luck at the moment. Jacob is home on leave from the military, recovering from the combat death of his best friend. Sophie is getting over an ugly divorce. They plan for their sexual relationship to be a no-pressure, no-future rebound thing, but of course they both develop Feelings.
While I enjoyed this book, I was disappointed by how superficial it was (though that's pretty typical for Shalvis). Both main characters are going through a lot, but Jacob in particular, and I would have liked to see more emotional growth as he worked through his grief over his buddy's death and as he negotiated the relationships with his mother, stepmother, and siblings -- relationships he has neglected for close to a decade. Instead, the author did too much telling us what the characters felt and very little showing us. I think my disappointment was heightened because Jacob's homecoming was heavily foreshadowed in the previous books in the series (which focus on his brothers), so to have his reunion with his family so airbrushed here was anticlimactic.
I also thought there were several plot twists toward the end of the book that felt inauthentic, and struck me as lazy coincidences meant to move the story along rather than something that would actually happen. Things like, when the conflict between the couple lags, Shalvis stirs it up by having them have a sudden fight that could have been avoided if they talked to each other like adults. And then when it's time to make up, she manufactures a crisis big enough to make the fight seem insignificant (which, in fact, if they'd known how to communicate, it would have been).
But, you know, it's Shalvis. If she keeps writing, I'll keep reading... because she's like my favorite junk food.
ARC courtesy of Netgalley and Loveswept in exchange for a (brutally honest) review.
I loved the theory of this book - a man on the cusp of joining the priesthood struggling with the temptation presented by his late best friend's sister - but the execution didn't work for me. The character development was very superficial and they engaged in a lot of very redundant naval gazing. The main characters are named Rose and Thorn (um, yeah. *rolls eyes*), and they just did not seem very authentic, and they seemed to be lacking emotional contours and depth. The story was very straightforward and predictable.