I was obviously a very naughty elf this last year. I spent the week of Christmas with a crippling migraine which landed me in the ER doped up on a ton of killer drugs and on an IV. About twenty-four hours later I developed the flu from hell, within a few days I was in the ER doped up on a crapload of drugs and getting a couple IV’s. Whose book did I review that I gave such a bad review that Santa pooped in my stocking? I’m telling you… if I find out one of you is preggers and this awful nausea and evacuation of all bodily fluids is sympathy draining, you had best name the little one after me–I don’t care if it is girl, boy or bowling ball, that little beast had best be named Ali. I haven’t eaten anything but toast in five days and I had to water down gatorade. Cry. Cry. Cry. I know I’ve whinged enough now because my keyboard is wet with my e-tears. I hope you all made your wish and got a happy kitten for the start of the year. D cut me off at four kittens but he let me have all the wishes I wanted, so I wished for a whole herd of ponies.
It’s time to snap back to Monday. For this week we are going to my favorite Harlequin book series, Harlequin Kiss. I find all the Tycoon Blah Blah Blah…and Sheik Blah Blah Blah and Royal Blah Blah Blah… and Magical Unicorn’s Flying Carpet’s Mistress’s Love-Child blah blah blah utter nonsense. I feel a lot like I’ve entered a the chick-lit version of a fuffy martini and estrogen rich James Bond film when I read them. More fantasy genre than most of the fantasy books out there when I search for fantasy on Amazon under that heading. I tend to get a good deal of my Harlequin Kiss books from NetGalley because Harlequin seems to like me and they let me have them, and I like them because the Kiss books are at least a little bit within the realm of probability. It’s not unlikely for someone to go to a class reunion. Of course the other Harlequin Kiss book I read this week was about spies but, hey… REALLY the romance part of the book was about a man who pretended the woman he loved was his wife when she had amnesia. The fact they were once spies was secondary. TOTALLY. BELIEVABLE. I quite possibly, might, be a spy and not be telling you. I am telling you though that I would never be in a book with a TYCOON who was a SHEIK who was also ROYALTY and I would never have a MAGICAL UNICORN’S FLYING CARPET’S LOVE-CHILD. I’m not that sort of man’s mistress. When I do have a love-child it will most definitely be a normal man’s… like Mr Darcy or even Baron Munchausen. Someone who is an everyday man with down to earth ideals and a realistic lifestyle.
The Reunion Lie has no love-children. It is about Zoe Montgomery, a very ambitious and successful woman, who reverts to the insecure, lost girl she was as a teen when she attends the class reunion of her girlhood schoolmates. It doesn’t help that no matter what she does, she is always diametrically at odds in lifestyle with the girls who treated her the worst. She had every hope that she would wow them with her vast wealth and achievements but what she finds is that all the women have nested and Zoe is without a fellow someone to play her true fowl. With her nest empty she gets creative and makes up a man no woman could find fault in. Just when she think her plan is without a wing and a prayer, in walks the perfect specimen. (I love any time I can go off with the puns. Thank you, mom, Mrs. Courtwright (my first grade teacher) and Lord above for allowing me to develop such a poorly appreciated sleight of tongue.)
Daniel Forrester was off females even the one who surprised him with the hot lip-lock when he walked into his bar to meet his friend. When she laid out her problem he found himself sympathizing or playing along before had no idea just why he would do such a thing. The paparazzi were always out to catch him with some socialite and even pretending to be a boyfriend for five minutes would travel the grapevine just as fast as any other unfounded rumor. A fit of insanity still found him playing out an entire act of ludicrosity ending in a faux marriage proposal before a fortunate escape for both he and Zoe. By the skin of their teeth, no? Of course not. How did he disclaim the fiancee he badly wanted to claim in every other way?
This was a great book in many sorts, even if cliché in many others. The emotionally unavailable man, the play by the book girlfriend who does it all right but can never break through his hardened shell. Yadda, Yadda, Yadda. The one thing that drove me mental was there were pages and pages in this book of narrative. I am one of those people who really enjoys dialogue to move a story along and when it is missing it feels as if the story becomes heavy and interminably long. The inner workings of both Dan and Zoe’s minds needed badly to be broken up with something. Anything. Even if it was something wrong. Have them talk to walls or… I have no idea what to insert there but it needed something other than, thought-thought-thought-thought-thought, ad infinitum. Break it up into smaller chunks, puh-lease. Just not such large narrative paragraph after paragraph. It makes me cry. I’m a really good book reader and someone already gave me a migraine and the flu for something I read or reviewed. Please don’t give me long narrative to punish me any further.
I would happily read more books by Lucy King. I really liked the story, even though I did have the problem with the chunky, clunky narration portion and I would recommend her books to others… although her other books are those Harlequin books that tend to be of the series about tycoons, sheiks, royals, and magical unicorn’s flying carpet’s mistress’s love-children. Sometimes you just have to roll with these things.
Lucy Kings Web Tracks: Website, Twitter, Facebook, Harlequin Author Page, and Goodreads.
Incase I didn’t make it clear above… this book was a title I got from NetGalley and I would never bother giving anything other than my honest opinion because I like to hear what I have to say books. I’m always surprised by the things that come out of my mouth/or the digital equivalent. How’s that for self-awareness, Dr. Tone?
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