By day, I'm a domestic violence prosecutor. By night, I read romance to restore my faith in love, relationships, and humanity in general.
I picked this up as a book deal earlier in the month, because I've been on the hunt for new-to-me contemporary authors for awhile. The Troublemaker Next Door started strong: I appreciated the snappy dialogue and the humorous narrative, and the characters were engaging and likeable if not entirely original. At first I enjoyed how sex-positive the main couple, Flynn and Maddie, were -- exploring their sexual limits in a way that initially felt natural and exciting. But then there was so much, very explicit sex, and toward the end of the book they seemed to be pushing their sexual boundaries in the desperate way that people who have been in a stale marriage for YEARS start to experiment (as if a pinch of BDSM can save a sinking relationship), which felt off because Flynn's and Maddie's relationship is fresh and new and they just shouldn't have to try that hard. Frankly, the sex became distracting, and the plot stopped holding my interest. I finished the book, but I skimmed the last quarter of it, and I'm not sure I'll read on in the series.