First, WTF is up with that blurb? Talk about a poster child for tl;dr! All you really neFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
First, WTF is up with that blurb? Talk about a poster child for tl;dr! All you really need to know about this is it’s pretty amazing. But if you want more? Here you go . . .
November Road jumps off during a monumental moment in American history . . . . .
When small fries criminal Frank Guidry learns of the assassination of the President, he fears he may have unknowingly been a participant by possibly dropping off the getaway car of the sniper who actually committed the crime.
He’s positive his boss and New Orleans’ mobster was the driving force behind the events and he recognizes pretty quickly he needs to get the eff outta Dodge. With a ruthless hitman hot on his tail, Guidry does whatever it takes to make it to the safe haven that will hopefully lend him a hand and get him out of the country – even if it means glomming on to a woman and her children in an attempt to hide his identity . . . . .
I received this book as a gift from one of my favorite book fairies here on Goodreads after she noticed I had added this to the TBR. She assured me that, despite the fact it didn’t fall into my usual type of read, I would like it. Boy was she right. The “what if” without a whole lot of detailed conspiracy theories regarding Kennedy’s death made this historical fiction juuuuuuuuuuuust right and the little blip about Vietnam thrown in at the end? Brilliant. A little noir, a little cat and mouse, and even a little doomed romance made this genre bender a one sitting reading experience for me.
But then a miracle of all miracles happened and our fearlessful leader Ron 2.0 not only finished this book but managed to write a review nearly instantly rather than his usual 18 month turnaround time. And then we agreed on it . . . . .
Ron points out in his review (go read it, he’s way gooder at the word thing than I am) how this is grit lit without the grit and that is spot on. From the title, cover and blurb I think we were all expecting a little more David Joy and a lot less Barbara Kingsolver, but the oh-so-very- eco-warrior-y undercurrent was pretty hard to ignore.
I think the easiest way to differentiate between this story and our usual reads about the potentially shady underbelly of Appallachia is that while all of the writers may have resided in the mountains at one point or another – they haven’t all lived in them. It seems to seep out of Joy and Brian Panowich’s pores onto the page while this selection delivers information in a nearly textbook type of detail that paints a clear picture, but does so without a whole lot of feeling.
If you are a fan of descriptions of the land rather than action involving the people who live there, this may be a winner for you. I, on the other hand, really channeled my inner Ron the entire time I was reading. Perhaps because the pace was so slow the issues pretty much jumped off the page, or perhaps because a scientist somehow not only finding himself banging what he thought was another scientist who just so happened to be a mule on the side AND ending up in the pokey AND somehow ending up miraculously turning into a real Billy Badass and doing a superbadawful making some scurrrrrry guys real mad so he has to hide AND then thinking maybe said bad guys were maybe in the business of stealing bear paws and gallbladders for a couple hundie a pop despite the fact that their general line of work dealt with millions AND even though he was like HBIC in asswhooping when he was in the joint gets concussed immediately the first time he even talks to a redneck AND being an outdoorsy science man in his previous life but having no idea what a ghillie suit even is but somehow being able to make a homemade one – well, all that had me saying . . . .
Especially with Like Lions just around the corner : )
ORIGINAL "REVIEW:"
Coming soon to a Goodreads near you – a Ron 2.0, Shelby and Kelly buddy-up. Who will read it right? Who will read it wrong? Who doesn’t really have time to read it at all (*cough Shelby cough*)? These questions and more will be answered on this upcoming episode of . . . .
(Oh, and note to all: I’m totally calling this thing Foreskin and saying it’s a porny the entire time we read it to see if I can make Ron’s head explode.)...more
A very short while back, my friend Bill was reading this selection and I was pretty sure I needed it in my life too. I gave Real Dan a big shove nudge in its direction too. I figured I would keep an eye out for a $.99 sale or until someone rewarded my oh-so-very-good-all-year behavior with an Amazon gift card come Christmastime and then treat myself. Lucky for me . . . .
But it’s more like where the saké drowns and the comedy porn chases your blues away because Dan got hammered and drunk-purchased this little beauty that he then kindly lent to me. (Isn’t he the best? Answer is yes he is.)
The story here starts with Ralph and Julie, a married couple. Things were perfectly okay in their relationship, until they brought a friend into their bedroom with them . . . .
Then it seemed Ralph couldn’t do anything without his little buddy guiding him along. When Ralph discovers Julie has been on internet dating sites trying to find some replacement smex, he does what any nutcase rational person would do and approaches a stranger to participate in some bad (emphasis on the BAD) intercourse with his wife in order to prove that old adage the grass isn't always greener . . . . but things don’t go quite as planned.
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Ha! Who am I kidding? I love it! This story is exactly what it claims to be on the cover: a filthy comedic thriller. What it has in common with Strand’s other stuff? His signature dialogue-driven narrative. He’s one of the best at people doing the talky talky with each other, for sure. This won’t be for everyone – because it absolutely is porny and OTT, but if you’re brave enough to venture out of the “Strand is a HORROR writer” comfort zone, you might find his best stuff falls into other genres.
Undying gratitude to Dan for the lend. Let me know if I ever need to wear my biggest T-shirt in order to hide a gun in my pants for you! ...more
A new selection from an author who has never failed me? What could possibly go wrong? Well, allow me to take you on a journey that will hopefully eventually get to the point . . . but since it’s me maybe it won’t.
Many years ago I came across a free book written by someone I had never heard of and I thought it was the bees knees. A few months later I read . . . well pretty much the same book, but a more well known version written by a more famous author. I overlooked it because hey, we all gotta start somewhere, right? Then it happened again . . . . and again. Yes, the writing was good, but the concepts/storylines/characters took “inspired by” to a level I wasn’t comfortable with so I washed my hands of that person.
So what does that have to do with Craig Davidson? He’s too gooooooooooooooooooood to have to resort to riffing on others’ old work. Dude is so good he writes under THREE names (that I’m aware of – hell he could write under a dozen more for all I know). His stuff is the original, envelope pushing type of book other people borrow from in order to attempt to write their own, less than, pieces. And the Saturday Night Ghost Club? It’s basically this kid . . .
Remember him? Uncle Red? Even my friend Trudi (who loved this book and who called dibs ages ago on being the Annie Wilkes to Cutter/Davidson/Lestewka) said the same thing in her review.
There just wasn’t much to this story – either in substance or page count. The characters felt hollow and future Jake’s profession made it glaringly obvious what Uncle C’s problem was/what everything was leading up to – not to mention I cared absolutely ZERO PERCENT about the inserts regarding his patients and their brain issues. Oh, and the “big reveal????”
While some things were awesomely reminiscent of true urban legends spread throughout my youth – like KFC having to drop the term “chicken” due to creating some sort of mutant that was pretty much only breasts and legs . . . .
Other things that I would usually dismiss ended up really getting under my skin – like a teenage girl in the 1980s taking medicine for depression/bi-polar disorder (her diagnosis is not disclosed). Sorry, in the ‘80s puberty would have been blamed for this child’s mood swings.
So there it is. Sucks that I suck, but I do and so does this rating : ( ...more
I had some notes highlighted, but I just fired up the ol’ Kindle and poof they aren’t theFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
I had some notes highlighted, but I just fired up the ol’ Kindle and poof they aren’t there anymore so Imma have to wing it. I will flat out admit I wanted this one for the title alone – and also because Joe Lansdale stories pretty much equate this for me . . . .
But regarding that title: I mean what is a Fender Lizard and how can I be one? Are they recruiting? Would I have to jump someone in an alley with a shiv to get in? I’m pretty much up for whatever it might take. Luckily I didn’t have to wait long to find out thanks to my Good Buddy Dan and the power of the “lend” feature.
As for the story itself, Lansdale is known for his ability to spin a good coming of age yarn, but in books that are clearly written for adults. That being said, although I’m fairly comfortable in saying Fender Lizards would NOT probably reside in the Young Adult section of your local bookstore – that is precisely where it should be. Adults like me will happily lap the story up as it dishes up some surefire YES PLEASE! features such as high school dropouts with a daddy who went out for a pack of smokes and never came back and a sister with multiple deadbeat baby daddy and I was just like . . . .
Can you hear me squeeing all across the country? Not even sorry.
This was super fun even though I'm an old geezer. If I had a teenage daughter I’d hold her down and sit on her until she finished reading this recommend this one to her.
Thanks again for the lend, Original Dan. You’re one of the good’uns!...more
When Shelby told me she was reading (and enjoying) this a week or so ago I didn’t give it much thought. After all, I had an alright time with this author myself with Lingus. I had no choice but to read The Wall of Winnipeg and Me when it was shoved in my face so kindly lent to me by my book bestie via the Kindle.
I woke up to discover my favorite kind of Saturday morning – nice and dreary. I did a couple of necessary chores, drank some java, got myself ready like I was actually going to leave the house and then my husband asked what I had planned for the day. My loving response????
Then I proceeded to settle into the reading chair for Porny Saturday. Upon firing this selection up, I noticed something rather alarming. 673 PAGES?!?!?!?!?! Surely that had to be a trick . . . . .
As I went to confirm that was not a mean joke on GR, I noticed something that terrified me even more than the page count - everyone on my friends list loved it. (Except Ana – she was totally going to have to be my protector in the shame corner if things went south.) And I totally get why it was a fail for Ana. I totally don’t get why it wasn’t a fail for me, however. Not only were the amount of pages pretty barftastic, but it ended up being not what I thought it was going to be about and that should have made me hate it . . . or at least made me want to put it down for a while.
I didn’t bother reading the synopsis because . . . . well because Shelby said to read it and I am a lemming. Things started with Vanessa working as a personal assistant to professional football player Aidan (who wasn’t necessarily douchey but very much a strictly business type of boss). When Vanessa decided to quit in order to pursue her own dreams and Aidan showed up at her doorstep to confess that he “needed” her I thought for sure things were going to get nice and splooshy. Little did I know that he “needed” a green card and Vanessa to pull it off. Since I had just read that trope in Roomies I was double-ready to hate this one.
Instead I ended up developing a bed sore from sitting in the same spot for FIVE SOLID HOURS - taking breaks only to pee and change the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Aidan did not become lovey dovey thanks to a magic vagina, Vanessa didn’t have a bunch of drama llama that could only be cured by a magic peen, the page count wasn’t a lie and the big shebang didn’t happen until the NINETY-SEVEN PERCENT marker (which absolutely resulted in the female equivalent of blue balls – what would that be called? blue waffle? no absolutely not blue waffle – don’t Google that). Despite all of the missing romance novel tic-marks, I’m agreeing with the majority here (sorry, Ana). If you read fast, are terrified of super porny porns and have a whole day to spend in some fictional romance world, this might be a winner for you. As Vanessa would say . . . .
Here's another overdue book review for your viewing displeasure. I just realized I read tFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
Here's another overdue book review for your viewing displeasure. I just realized I read this on Valentine's Day. Ha! No wonder my husband didn't get any play!!!
I wanted to read Gods and Monstersimmediately. First, dat cover . . . .
Dude and dudette did run away together à la Romes and Jules, but things went off the rails completely when they decided revenge on the Montagues and Capulets . . . I mean their parents should come in the form of engaging in copious amounts of sex without protection despite being broke as a joke and completely incapable of taking care of themselves, yet alone a tiny human, and when that wasn’t enough starring in a porno together. In the immortal words of Sir Charles Barkley, there’s only one thing to say about this book. It’s . . . . .
I actually highlighted a bunch of stuff and made a bevy of notes about what a horrible experience I was having, but I think this one sums everything up . . . .
“Good lord, this thing is like a 14-year old’s wet dream.”
Oh, and all the sex????? Too bad it made me picture this . . . .
Blergh. I hope they called one of those crime scene types of cleaning crews in to remove all the snail trails from their roommate’s apartment for him!
Thanks again to my Book Fairy for gifting me this one. Sorry I hated it!
ORIGINAL "REVIEW:"
This book has been showing up all over my feed for the past couple of weeks (even though only one friend has read it). NA is most definitely not usually a hit for me, but I knew I would eventually have to give in on this one if for no other reason than to get THIS from playing on a loop in my head . . . .
This morning I woke up to an Amazon email notifying me a friend had bought it for me. On her own, without me begging, heck without it even being on my TBR. Don't let the haters tell you otherwise. Goodreads is home to some amazing humans.
Thank you again Book Fairy!!!! I was supposed to be finishing God-Shaped Hole today, but I think I'm going to bump "Porny Saturday" up a day instead ; )...more
The gin joint is the “High-Ho” in Belleville, Delaware. The she is Polly. When Polly meets Adam they both claim to be simply passing through town. Somehow they both end up working at the High-Ho. She as a waitress/he as a short order cook. Their attraction to each other is impossible to hide. Who they each truly are appears to be easier to conceal. Someone is pulling a long con. But who?
“Maybe everybody lies, all the time.”
This was noirtastic!!! It’s definitely a story where the less said the better, so save yourself from spoilers. Also be prepared for some characters you will find truly TURRRRRRRIBLE. I won’t blame anyone from wanting to shy away or feeling like they need to put this one down, but if you stick it out to the end EVERYTHING comes together. Mitchell says that disclaimer doesn’t even make any sense to him because he thought this about Sunburn . . . .
“Why do people keep telling me to be myself? Honestly. It’s like they’ve never even mFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
“Why do people keep telling me to be myself? Honestly. It’s like they’ve never even met me.”
Every now and then a certain someone takes a break from training monkeys in order to send me little treasures I didn’t even know I wanted until I received them. Under A Rose Tainted Sky is one of those. When I received a message telling me I had some goodies waiting for me if I would get off airplane mode (said monkey trainer also has to run interference in order to save me from my own stupid) I had much excite. Especially when I discovered this one was about someone with agoraphobia. Even my husband reacted like so when I told him what my book bestie had selected for me . . . .
So about the book. THIS is what that Turtles FUCKING SUCK! All The Way Down should have been. But NO. John Green will sell eleventy trillion copies of a giant pile of turtle suckage and this little gem will sell a handful. And don’t even give me the “John Green struggles with the same thing as his MC” argument, because THIS author does to. Now I’m going to let the book do the talking from here out so I don’t have an aneurysm.
Meet Norah – a 17-year old agoraphobic who leaves her house only to attend therapy. She is well aware that she needs to work on controlling her fears, else she . . . .
“die cold and alone. Hidden in my room while strangers post messages of condolence on my social media and rabid cats eat my decomposing corpse.”
But managing her anxiety is easier said than done . . . .
“Anxiety doesn’t just stop. You can have nice moments, minutes where it shrinks, but it doesn’t leave. It lurks in the background like a shadow, like that important assignment you have to do but keep putting off or the dull ache that follows a three-day migraine. The best you can hope for is to contain it, make it be as small as possible so it stops being intrusive.”
And when things get too overwhelming, sometimes she needs an escape . . . .
“It’s drastic, a last resort. But so easy. Like breathing, blinking. One beat in time. One quick slice, where nobody can see, and it all stops. This is not about dying. This is about trying to get back some control.”
When Luke moves next door – and then continues to pop up on Norah’s front steps, laughing at her snarky commentary, withholding judgment regarding her lack of leaving the house – Norah is confronted with a new challenge . . . .
“TV didn’t adequately prepare me for talking to boys in real life.”
Norah is well-aware her issues are quite the inhibitor when it comes to romance, but it doesn’t stop her from asking . . . .
“Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I think the way normal people do? I so desperately would have liked to have him as a friend.”
What Norah doesn’t realize is . . . . .
“There isn’t much you miss when you’re really looking.”
If you want a different take on the “boy next door” story – this one might be a winner. I sure loved it . . . .
Words cannot even express the amount of joy it brings me when I am the first of my friendFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
Words cannot even express the amount of joy it brings me when I am the first of my friends to read something. Well, when it’s something I liked - being the one to burst the bubble when a highly anticipated release turns out to be a turd kinda sucks. Anywho, when I saw this blurb . . . .
“Scream meets YA”
I had much excite! But then I saw the next part . . . .
“ in this hotly-anticipated new novel from the bestselling author of Anna and the French Kiss”
Oh noes. My experience with Anna was mucho baddo : (
There’s Someone Inside Your House is Exhibit A of why you shouldn’t just throw the baby out with the bathwater when it comes to giving an author a second chance. This was everything I wanted it to be. Much like with One Of Us Is Lying earlier this year, the comparison to its “inspired by” or counterpart or whatever you want to call it was spot on. The only difference???
They say there are no more original ideas. And maybe that’s true. (Except what Shelby just read about eating baby teeth – that seems pretty friggin’ original.) There’s Someone Inside Your House proves that an idea doesn’t have to be original for it to be a crapload of fun. This one follows the slasher formula pretty well. There’s a super baddy who just wants to . . . .
There’s even a little humor when everyone should be in panic mode . . .
“Shit! What’s your password?” “9999.” “What? Why would you do that? Somebody could guess that!” “You didn’t.”
Bonus was you weren’t forced to spin your wheels for forever and a day before you found out who the killer was. The big reveal happened about the halfway mark – but that didn’t stop the stabber from stabbing ‘cause they still had to catch him/her/them (no spoilsies)! By the end of this I was like . . .
For some reason I thought I had read Penelope Ward before. Apparently I haven’t, but I have read Vi Keeland and they appear to collaborate on stuff every now and again so maybe my old lady brain only kinda failed me instead of completely failed me. #shrug
So back to the book. Normally I try to live my life via the sage advice of the Steel Magnolias . . . .
This time I’m going to go with the age-old if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. I picked this up for only one reason – filthy sex. I didn’t expect it to attempt to have a story. What I got instead was like zero smut and a terrible first half that had my eyes rolling so far back in my head I thought I’d never get them straightened out. But the second half was actually fairly decent . . . . minus the still no dirty sexuals for me to perv out on. Apparently I read it wrong because I took a gander at other reviews and it seems everyone hated the second half but liked the first. It’s okay, I’m used to wrongreading at this point. At least I can say I have read a "taboo" romance and I will definitely check out more stuff by this author in the future. The next time a stepbrother story gets waved in front of my face, though?????
Thanks to my pervy book fairy for this hook up. Since I have zero shame I totally asked the porny librarian to buy this about 27 times, but that ho ignored me....more
All Dimple can think of is venturing out on her own and out from under her mother's thumbFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
All Dimple can think of is venturing out on her own and out from under her mother's thumb (as well as her search for the I.I.H. or “Ideal Indian Husband”) by heading to Stanford. Even better is when she gets a six week headstart to participate in Insomnia Con . . . .
Except, ya know, actually throwing her drink in the face of this rando strange and his creepy marriage-proposal-at-first-sight nonsense.
But since this is a rom-com the two obviously meet again, and are paired up to develop an app together which is the entire point of Insomnia Con, and eventually come to the realization that although there isn’t such a thing as instalove in real life, there most definitely is sometimes . . . .
Which shouldn’t work, but by the time you get there you’ve eaten so many unicorn farts that you are like “OF COURSE THERE IS A GODDAMN BOLLYWOOD DANCING SCENE! THAT’S TOTALLY NOT RIDICULOUS™ AT ALL!!!”
If this is on your TBR, go in knowing this is simply a book that will make you say . . . .
I didn’t realize this was so polarizing, and I really can’t explain why. Some people might expect more than just fluff from their fiction. Some people enjoy hate reading/reviewing. Some people get offended by nearly everything. At the end of the day (unless you are the author worried about making that bank, yo) does it really even matter????
If you (or your teenager) is looking for something cute and sweet with no angst, a leading lady who (thank the tiny 8 lb. 6 oz. Baby Jeebus) isn't a manic pixie dream girl and a leading male who makes you want to watch allllllllll da Dev Patel movies – this might be a winner. Or not . . . .
“Chimaera. According to Webster’s, the word is based on a creature of mythology, an amalgam of different species in one terrifying beast. Or, in the current vernacular, one ugly fucker.”
The story here is about a surfer-dude-looking, wise-cracking, functioning alcoholic/marine biologist named Whit who ends up partnered with his climatologist ex-wife Suzanne when a methane-filled fissure under the ocean gives way, releasing a shitton of prehistoric mammoth-sized chimaera from its depths. It’s up to the two to (1) survive and (2) come up with a way to send these killers back to the hell from whence they came.
The couple of my friends who have read They Rise both gave it a 3 Star rating. To them I ask . . . .
Just kidding. I’m giving it all 5 because it ended up being EXACTLY what I hoped it would be. Even though some soon-to-be-chum character dared to say . . . .
“This is not a B-movie, Suzanne.”
That dumbshit was 100% wrong. This was ABSOLUTELY a B-movie and that’s why I loved it. They Rise had everything you could ever want in a cheesy horror flick book:
1. Monsters from the deep
2. Sexy leading characters with a love/hate history
3. Awesome one-liner type of humor such as:
“ “If we survive this, I’m calling you Dr. Jones from now on.” “But I’m not afraid of snakes.”
4. High body count with plenty of guts and gore as well as some decent shock and awe like in . . . .
The only thing that could have made things better would have been if someone told me I could eat a unicorn fart. And then I discovered I could eat a unicorn fart!!!!!!
This sumbitch was an absolute delight and made my day exponentially more enjoyable. Endless thanks to Dan for using his lending feature in order to put this gem in my reading repertoire . . . . .
This book was an extra bonus in a care package from someone you’d never expect to send meFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
This book was an extra bonus in a care package from someone you’d never expect to send me something. Ha! Just kidding. It totally came from Shelby. Now we’ve both read it so hold on to your butt Susan Elizabeth Phillips . . . .
While this one didn’t get allllllll the starz from me like it did Shelby, it did earn 4 and I also read it a little wrong which I will explain momentarily. (Sidenote for the one of you who might be interested: The Hating Game was the other book sent to me with this one and I creamed my pants all over it. If you want to read what grouchy old twats choose when looking for the sexuals, now you have two options.)
Let’s quickly discuss how I read this wrong. First, I don’t read blurbs. That means I had no clue what this was about and thought it would be a super porno. (Dear Author, your covers are some of the worst I’ve ever seen and you can really write. Make them not ugly. Kthanxbye.) Second, I can’t think of one professional football player I find attractive so having one as the leading male doesn’t get my motor running. In my head they all look like Clay Matthews . . . .
Those couple of things aside, this was a really cute book. Piper has taken over her deceased father’s private investigation company and has been hired to keep tabs on the aforementioned ex-footballer Cooper. When her cover is blown Piper finds herself hired by Coop in order to see if the employees of his new nightclub are on the up-and-up. Add in some side stories including potential danger to Cooper (dun dun dunnnnnnnnn), a Middle Eastern prince, a maybe not-so-dead neighbor’s husband and you’re in for some quality fluffy good times . . . .
Piper was a more capable Stephanie Plum (fuck off if you don’t like the comparison – after reading eleventy trillion Plum novels she’s the automatic go-to when it comes to characters like this) and her interactions with Cooper were a hoot . . . .
“Wear that blue dress tonight, and try to look sexy. As far as Logan and his crew are concerned, you’re a special hostess.”
“That makes me sound like a hooker.”
“As soon as he sees you, he’ll know you aren’t.”
She couldn't decide if that was a compliment.
Love hate relationships. I lurrrrrrv them. You know why? Because they lead to angry sex . . . .
Anywho, Spring is right around the corner. If you need to add some books to your poolside Want To Reads, this is a winner. I’ll even help you out. Who wants it? Assuming I don’t think you’re a person who is interested in turning me into a skinsuit, I’ll pay this one forward and mail it to someone who wants to save a couple of bucks....more
See that cover? That thing made me science all over my underwears before release date eveFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
See that cover? That thing made me science all over my underwears before release date even came around. Thanks to the ever so delightful Courtney (whose review brought this to my porndar to begin with), I was bequeathed a copy of The Room Mate upon arriving at work yesterday. I was totally ready to pull out the big guns in order to guarantee some sneaky-reading too . . . . .
But things were slow so I managed to get an actual lunch hour and hiding in the toilet stall wasn’t necessary.
The story here is that Paige’s bestie’s younger brother needs a place to stay for a couple of months before he starts his residency. Paige reluctantly gives in only to discover Cannon (stupid name is stupid) isn’t the same nerd she remembered from high school.
Allow me a second to say between the cover and the description of Cannon being six plus feet tall with messy, sandy-colored hair “cropped neatly on the sides, but long enough on top” with a bonus five o’clock shadow and you have a Kelly who was seriously channeling her inner Leslie Jones when it came to this book . . . .
Where was I? Oh yeah, Cannon needs a place to stay and Paige has an extra room. Due to a combination of his schedule and a track record with Stage Five Clingers, Cannon is just trying to get through his final couple of months in town. But he can’t deny he’s always had a thing for Paige and, well, Paige has a pretty itchy scratch she’d like to take care of herself. However, rules are rules and your BFF’s little brother should remain off limits. That is, until Paige accidentally runs into Cannon when he’s coming out of the shower – and then catches him rubbing one out and she’s all like . . . .
If you are looking for a trope that never gets tired without a lot of angst and with a bunch of quality sexuals, this is a winner. This is also the reason I never say never when it comes to porno authors. I literally just (like two days ago) 2 Starred a book by Kendall Ryan and seriously debated about whether or not this was worthy of all 5 Porny Stars. (For those curious, it didn’t get the full monty because Cannon mentioned all of his “8 inches” a time too many and that just didn’t seem like something to write home to yo momma about.) Despite his weird obsession of his not-really-that-giant wang, I still wanted to do bad things to him . . . .
It was Jilly’s review that sent me running to the porny librarian post haste this time around. I pretty much didn’t need to know anything other than the leading male was in a wheelchair thanks to . . . . . . .
I don’t even remember Cale’s description because he was 100% Finnick . . . errr, whatever Finnick’s real name is. Sam Claflin. Thanks Google! Anyway, I’m a real cheap whore when it comes to tropes and since this one had the “waking up in a stranger’s bed” followed up with said stranger not being your usual alpha male I had much excite. Alas, the porny librarian did not have this selection so it went to the endless TBR where I would eventually get around to it. Or so I thought. Enter Jilly and her mad negotiating skillz . . . . .
She told the author I was interested and forced encouraged her to offer me a freebie. Darling little Annie (Seriously, look at her. She’s THE. CUTEST. I totally want my husband to leave me so I can try and swipe right on her) was all like . . . .
I was terrified I would end up hating this little gift and have to do what I do best and rip the mother*&^%er to shreds. But then I figured Jilly would have already informed her that I’m a raging hemorrhoid on the butt of Goodreads and she was willing to take a chance on me anyway. Boy am I glad she did!
If you are looking for a good romance read, I’d recommend this one. There is no instalove, but instead an actual relationship that develops over time. Both characters are broken (literally and emotionally) – but there is no magic peen or vajay that works as a cure-all for their problems. Instead they are forced to talk it out. If you are like me and can easily find your 4 Star rating dropping to a 2 or below due to not good sexuals, have no fear. This one is nearly fade-to-black and offers just enough to get you all like . . . .
OF COURSE I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t talk about the sexytimes. First, the majority of the stuff and things was by letting the fingers (or the tongue) do the walking because dudebrah had el zilcho when it came to feeling in the penile area. When they finally did take a trip to Pound Town Jilly thought that it was thanks to some sort of shot (ouch), but I can’t let my brain go there so I was thinking it was more like a . . . . .
Type of device instead. Which leads to my only complaint. Mickey tells her friend that Cale uhhhhhhhhh tutored her for the big science test for FOUR HOURS . . . . .
The chaffing that poor guy had to have experienced! I hope he had some Neosporin handy.
As for the rest, I'll let the book do the talking for me . . . .
"It was perfectly imperfect. It was imperfectly perfect. It was cheeky. It was quirky. It was infectious. And most importantly . . . . It's full of love.
Obviously this was a gift from the author. I give zero shits about hurting anyone’s feelings, though, so she didn’t get any extra Starzzzzzzzzz from me simply because it was free. She earned them.
A Goodreads friend will bully an author on your behalf into sending you a free copy of her book. (She might help hide a body too if she was in town and didn't already have plans.) Thanks Jilly!...more
"This man was once my salvation. Now he will be my ruin."
Well, this was quite the delightful little surprise. I put this on my TBR because Tarryn Fisher said to one day on her Facebook page. Do you know Tarryn Fisher????
She recently got engaged which is unfortunate as it deters my plan of marrying her one day – especially when she said she decorates her Christmas tree before Thanksgiving just like me. Soulmates . . . .
As I said, Tarryn Fisher said to read this so I immediately went to the library to request a copy. Even the porny librarian can’t bat 1,000, however, and this selection was not available. I ended up with Ten Tiny Breaths instead and a severe case of underwhelment upon finishing. Then my book bestie came to save the day and gifted me a copy of the thing I actually wanted in the first place. In order to show my gratitude I waited several months before bothering to read it because as a wise man once said “♪♫♪I’m an asshooooooooooo-oooole♪♫♪”. . . .
He Will Be My Ruin is about Maggie, a trust fund baby turned philanthropist who is assigned the task of clearing out her bestie Celine’s apartment after Celine’s apparent suicide. But the more Maggie starts digging around Celine’s belongings, the more secrets she discovers leading her to believe maybe it wasn’t a suicide at all.
So this was a mystery with a lil’ extra summin’ summin’ . . . . .
Obviously it wasn’t believable at all. In fact, Ron 2.0 some might say it was ridiculous, but it worked just fine for me. It read fast, it wasn’t overly written and “purply,” you knew right away you were limited to one of two potential bad guys (and I would have been completely satisfied had the story gone in either direction). Really, aside from a very awkward elevator scene . . . .
(I mean, that part was just S.T.U.P.I.D. What are the chances of anyone other than myself thinking the cure to a claustrophobia induced panic attack in a stuck elevator is magic penis?????)
Other than that this was definitely a satisfactory contribution to the stabby porn collection. The author should definitely write more stuff like this. Until then I’ll just wait outside Tarryn Fisher’s houseimpatiently for . . . .
Before I even begin, let me say one thing: SOMEONE BUY THE RIGHTS TO THIS IMMEDIATELY ANDFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
Before I even begin, let me say one thing: SOMEONE BUY THE RIGHTS TO THIS IMMEDIATELY AND MAKE IT INTO A MOVIE! I swear to the good lort above it will be a blockbuster.
The Hating Game is about Lucy and Joshua (bonus points for having actual human names and proving right away this wasn’t going to be some kind of crappy angst-fest). When the publishing houses the two worked for were forced into merger it left not one but two CEOs, neither of which wanted to lose their executive assistant. That means every day arch enemies Lucy and Josh are forced to sit directly across from the other, picking apart every little thing about the other that drives them insane. You know what that means, right?????
So here’s the deal, I’m pretty sure this was a Goodreads “recommended to me” spam suggestion that finally won me over after popping up on my feed for weeks on end. By the time I requested it from the library (and saw Bonnie’s review the very next day), the waiting list was long enough to make me rant about it. (See below for further crybaby details.) My hopes were so high that I was terrified things would go horribly. On Saturday I shoved gently got my children on their way to various sports practices and sat down with a cup of Joe prepared for disappointment. What happened instead was I read the entire thing cover to cover and thanked the tiny 8 lb 6 oz baby Jesus for my alone time because . . . .
At this point I think my husband has been slipping me some kind of happy pill because I have been enjoying nearly everything I’ve read the past month or so. Such is the case with The Hating Game. I loved this one so much I don’t even know what to say about it. This story had me right from the start with leading man Josh being eleventy feet tall compared to Lucy’s five feet nothing. And even though Lucy was described as dark haired, I couldn’t get this image out of my head . . .
Because I already saw that movie once and I loved it.
This entire book was the most adorable thing I’ve maybe ever read. From Lucy and Josh hating each other, to the elevator moment when you find out maybe they don’t, to Lucy’s inability to contain herself and therefore morphs into a crazy almost rapey spidermonkey trying to lure Josh into doing the nasty . . . .
“I was hoping you’d participate more.
“I’d participate. So well, you wouldn’t walk straight the next day.”
“That’s okay, walking is overrated.”
To the two eventually falling in luuuuurrrrrrrv . . . . .
“You sure are good at holding hands.”
“I’m probably not good at a lot of things, but I will try to be.”
This was everything I wanted it to be and more. My poor little heart. It can’t take it!
I don’t know what else to say. If you’re someone who occasionally likes to hear about someone who wants to be a man who has been to a concert with a girl in a red dress. Just for a few minutes more . . . .
Sally Thorne, if you can see this, please know I am in love with your book. This is the best romance I read in 2016 and I can’t wait to see what you come up with next. Normally when I’m gifted something from a book fairy, I pay it forward. Sorry suckas – not this time. I am going to read this overandoverandoverandoverandover again until it falls apart.
ORIGINAL "REVIEW":
Here’s a little story about how one day I was airing out my enormous first world problem of being FORTY-SOMETHINGTH on the library waiting list for this book (completely unacceptable – either people need to stop wanting to read the same things I want to read or the librarian needs to bump me ahead of everyone else) when a certain someone casually stated, “oh I won that on a Goodreads giveaway – I just haven’t ever got around to reading it.” Then I called her foul names and declared her part of the conspiracy theory to keep me from actually reading the stuff on my TBR that I want to read. Fast forward a couple of weeks to the mailroom guy delivering me a little package containing . . . .
I’m sorry I called you names in my fit of jealousy, Shelby. You are the best thing that ever came from me joining this silly site of misfits – even when you don’t send me free stuff : )
Alas, it was not meant to be and I was immediately denied the ARC. And then the pestering of the porny librarian began. I tried to get so many libraries to buy this in so many formats I got the interweb equivalent of a cease and desist message something kinda like “WE GET IT BITCH! STAHP ALREADY.”
I just couldn’t help myself, though. I mean, I live like the most generic, vanilla lifestyle of anyone in ‘Murica, so when I see a story like this, it allows me to fully embrace my inner outer Fat Amy . . .
To show just how amazing some humans are still capable of being, on Thursday night (which was my birthday eve) I got a text message from the Queen of the South telling me I needed to send my address to Kelly J. Ford because she was going to send me a copy of Cottonmouths. After making sure Ms. Ford wasn’t locked in a basement (or maybe a singlewide, since that would be more fitting to the situation) and I wasn’t either (1) going to be charged as an accessory after the fact or (2) need to wire some bail money pronto, I proceeded to run around the house screaming with glee like a lunatic.
Then my husband and children went out of town and I received word from the porny library that they are, in fact, terrified of me and a copy of Cottonmouths was waiting for me to come pick it up and OF COURSE I went ahead and got it instead of being patient because . . . .
I is one greedy heifer and I already had plans on spending the day avoiding the 116 degree heat by the pool, which I did and officially named “cooking with meth” . . . .
And also how even though I did get a free copy of this book, I was under absolutely zero obligation to pad my rating since I read the library copy instead.
I should probably talk about the book at least a smidgen at this point, huh?
Emily left town with high hopes of earning a college degree and never looking back. But when she flunks out and the collection agency comes sniffing around for her overdue student loan payments, Emily has no choice but to eat a big ol’ serving of crow and return to her hometown of Drear’s Bluff. When things go south between Emily and her parents, she’s left with no option but to turn to the last person she wanted to ask for help – her former best friend Jody who has become quiet the uhhhhhh entrepreneur . . . . .
“This is like the worst stereotype of the South come to life. All you need is a Confederate flag over the fucking door.”
I have to say there is nothing quite like the booknerd anxiety that is experienced once you finally get your hands on your most anticipated read of the year. Things could have gone sooooooo poorly. Thank Jeebus that was not the case. While Cottonmouths wasn’t action-packed or over-the-top like many of the other grit lit selections I have enjoyed in the past, it absolutely lived up to my high expectations and I was blown away with a story about not only meth, but also about first love and emotional manipulation and blurring the lines between what is right and what is wrong depending on certain circumstances and family who will drop a person like a hot potato for not being who they want them to be. In fact, when Shelby asked me how it was going, my reaction was . . . . . .
And that we had to figure out where these poor kids lived in order to get them away from all that mess because you just know there is no chance things are going to end well. 5 Stars. This sucker deserves every one of them.
Endless thanks to both Kelly J. Ford and my authorstalking bestie. I’d say I’ll be your ride or die, but let’s get real . . . .
That would be Wyatt Hammer – the leading male. For being a construction worker with a mega schlong he sure was a whiny bitch a good portion of the time.
So the story was about construction company owner Wyatt and his assistant Natalie who get sent to Vegas for a uuuuuuuuge (™Donald Trump) job that will take the company to the next level. Buuuuuuut when the job falls through the two are left with a free evening and sorrows to drown. One thing leads to another, Wyatt and Natalie get hitched and when plans for a quickie annulment backfire the two are left to deal with their feelings for one another.
As I said before, this one was just aiiiiiiiight for me. There wasn’t a whole lotta plot, which would have been fine if the characters didn’t keep talking about how funny they were while not being funny at all. (Romantic comedy porns are my favorite porns, so I might have been judgier than most.) There was also the dreaded nickname issue to deal with and in this case: “Frisky Mittens” had me all . . . .
But quantity didn’t make up for quality when it came to this story . . . probably because it was told 100% from Wyatt’s perspective and the more I was in his head the less I wanted his head in me. Therefore, my panties remained a sploosh free environment . . . . .
Good news is, I am not yet prepared to give up on Lauren Blakely and due to my most awesome book fairy I’ll be reading more of her stuff in the near future. Because, ya know . . . .
Kelly (and the Book Boar)
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