Tag Archives: romance

Unmemorable

Book Review of Unmemorable (Unmemorable #1), by A. P. Jensen

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UnmemorableI picked up a copy of  Umemorable, by A. P. Jensen from the Amazon free list.

Description from Goodreads:
A housekeeper with mad street smarts collides with a supernatural bodyguard who’s been sent to protect her from an underground war that has raged for centuries. 

Raven leads a solitary existence and that’s the way she likes it, but the life she knows turns upside down when her apartment gets gunned down and Cain Henson steps in. Cain’s been sent by a Seer who believes Raven is a woman of prophecy that can control an ancient army that no one can see. 

Filled with mystery, magic, a kick-ass heroine and romance, Unmemorable will lead you on a wild adventure that will keep you on the edge of your seat and guessing until the last page.

Review:
Nope, I was not impressed, not at all. The bones of a good story were here. The writing is pretty good. The editing is un-noteworthy, meaning it didn’t grab my attention, which is what you want in editing. But there my praise mostly ends. Yes, I’ll concede that Raven was sassy and determined to remain independent. Both of which are good qualities, too bad they’re completely undermined at every single stage of the book. Every-time she attempted independent action she ended up in trouble, needing rescue.

She’s obstinate to the point of ridiculousness. Well past the point when the truth is impossible to deny she’s still denying it and insisting on going back to work, which is just stupid and suicidal. As is insisting she be allowed to go to the club when people are hunting and trying to kill her. It was so obviously only a chance to get her in a skimpy dress so he could ogle her and move the sex along that I actually cringed. But mostly it was just STSL.

The sex was…oh, wow…bad. When she yelped indignantly, he pulled off her pants and put on a condom. Before she could sit up, he sat with his back against the headboard and pulled her over him to straddle his cock. That’s her loosing her virginity and there is literally NO FOREPLAY (or hymen to deal with). All of the sex is like that, abortive and un-erotic.

There are also a few plot holes that, while maybe not large, annoyed me. First, she is so forgettable that her mother literally walked away and accidentally left her in a park at 1 day old. So, how did she manage to get raised in foster care? How did her Foster parents remember her? Second, if she is so dramatically forgettable how has she made it to 27 without noticing that this is something special? It’s freakin’ impossible. People forget her between one blink and the next, even when standing in front of her. But it did provide the perfect opportunity to show a woman as so stupid she doesn’t even know about herself until a man (Cain) comes along and mansplains it to her. No thank you.

Similarly, she is a Barbie. I don’t mean her physical appearance. I mean the book is full of things she’s never done, never experienced, never tried, etc. It’s so prevalent that I finally decided she didn’t really exist until Cain showed up to see her and take her out of her packaging, because apparently she spent 27 years doing nothing.

But worst of all, the whole this is bloody boring. Almost nothing happens. They play scrabble, talk and watch Lost (an unfortunate and dated media reference). Then nothing concludes or wraps up. As far as I’m concerned it might as well have been a series of random events with no beginning point and no end.

Book Review of The Deep of the Sound, by Amy Lane

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Deep of the SoundI received a copy of The Deep of the Sound, by Amy Lane, from NetGalley.

Description from Goodreads:
Cal McCorkle has lived in Bluewater Bay his whole life. He works two jobs to support a brother with a laundry list of psychiatric diagnoses and a great uncle with Alzheimer’s, and his personal life amounts to impersonal hookups with his boss. He’s got no time, no ambition, and no hope. All he has is family, and they’re killing him one responsibility at a time.

Avery Kennedy left Los Angeles, his family, and his sleazy boyfriend to attend a Wolf’s Landing convention, and he has no plans to return. But when he finds himself broke and car-less in Bluewater Bay, he’s worried he’ll have to slink home with his tail between his legs. Then Cal McCorkle rides to his rescue, and his urge to run away dies a quick death.

Avery may seem helpless at first, but he can charm Cal’s fractious brother, so Cal can pretty much forgive him anything. Even being adorkable. And giving him hope. But Cal can only promise Avery “until we can’t”—and the cost of changing that to “until forever” might be too high, however much they both want it.

I don’t usually include a series description, but this one is pretty interesting and gives some insight into the series that i wasn’t aware of when I picked this book up.  So, here is the series description for Bluewater Bay.

Welcome to Bluewater Bay! This quiet little logging town on Washington state’s Olympic Peninsula has been stagnating for decades, on the verge of ghost town status. Until a television crew moves in to film Wolf’s Landing, a soon-to-be cult hit based on the wildly successful shifter novels penned by local author Hunter Easton.

Wolf’s Landing’s success spawns everything from merchandise to movie talks, and Bluewater Bay explodes into a mecca for fans and tourists alike. The locals still aren’t quite sure what to make of all this—the town is rejuvenated, but at what cost? And the Hollywood-based production crew is out of their element in this small, mossy seaside locale. Needless to say, sparks fly.

This collaborative story world is brought to you by ten award-winning, best-selling LGBTQ romance authors: L.A. Witt, L.B. Gregg, Z.A. Maxfield, Aleksandr Voinov, Heidi Belleau, Rachel Haimowitz, Anne Tenino, Amy Lane, SE Jakes, and G.B. Gordon. Each contemporary novel stands alone, but all are built around the town and the people of Bluewater Bay and the Wolf’s Landing media empire.

Review:

Well darn, this is the second book in as many weeks that I’ve finished and then discovered it’s part of a series. That really annoys me. On the plus side, if I made it all the way to the end without realizing it, it must be encapsulated enough to stand alone. So, I’m annoyed that the fact that it’s an eighth book in a series wasn’t made more apparent on the cover, or where ever, but I don’t think it effected my read any.

This was my first Amy Lane book and a lot of people seem to love her writing. And while I appreciate a lot about this novel, thought the writing and editing were sharp, etc, I thought the story was far too schmaltzy for my taste. And I have two main reasons for this.

The first is the insta-meaningful relationship. Sure, it’s not insta-love but almost immediately these two men are moving beyond sex or friendship or even getting to know one another into ‘you complete my life’ territory. They then spend an inordinate amount of time telling each-other how wonderful and vital to the other they are.

Second, I just basically hate PSAs in my fiction. I just do. If there are certain issues that are important to the story and a reader needs to know them to understand, sure ok, drop a few facts. But I HATE it when authors use their books as a platform to inform readers on how to be better humans in regard to XYZ. It feels unnatural, pompous and presumptuous. It’s even worse when they do it serially. Lane hits Communicatively Handicapped, FanFiction communities/writing, Gender queers’ pronouns and probably more.

Sure, one character was ADHD, OCD, bi-polar etc. I didn’t feel lectured at because of his diagnosis. Nor did I feel lectured on about the Great Uncle’s Alzheimer’s and only a little about the importance of medication. This just proves to me that important social issues can be handled and included in non-PSA ways. But when Avery lectured Cal (a man who’s lived his whole life and is currently responsible for the care and upkeep of a severely diagnosed brother), and by extension me on CH or that all that’s really important about pronouns is respect it held none of that natural importance to the story. (The latter was about a character that never even shows up in the book.)

My problem is not that I disagree with the message, it’s seeing (or feeling rather) it shoehorned into a story. To me it comes across as an author being like, ‘See how informed and accepting I am? Yes, praise me for my liberal open-mindedness.’ I’m not saying Lane is like this. I don’t know. But I certainly felt this in this book and found it really off-putting.

Having said all that, it was a very sweet story. I liked the characters in general and the writing is perfectly readable.

conduit

Book Review of Conduit, by Angie Martin

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ConduitAuthor, Angie Martin sent me an e-copy of her novel, Conduit. I’ve also seen it on the Amazon free list.

Description from Goodreads:
How do you hide from a killer when he’s in your mind?

Emily Monroe conceals her psychic gift from the world, but her abilities are much too strong to keep hidden from an equally gifted killer. A savvy private investigator, she discreetly uses her psychic prowess to solve cases. When the police ask her to assist on a new case, she learns the killer they seek is not only psychic, but is targeting her.

The killer wants more than to invade her mind; he wants her. Believing they are destined for each other, he uses his victims as conduits to communicate with her, and she hears their screams while they are tortured. She opens her minds to help the victims, but it gives him a portal that he uses to lure her to him. With the killer taking over her mind, she must somehow stop him before she becomes his next victim.

Review:
I have to admit that this book just didn’t work for me. It might for some readers, to each their own.

I have been trying to come up with the right word to describe this (and writing like it), because I encounter it a lot. Maybe someone knows and can help me out. We all recognize a Mary Sue and Gary Stu (sometime Marty Stu), but what do you call it when the whole book–plot, narrations, characters, etc all have a Mary Sue feel to them. Pat, maybe?

I actually have a litmus test for this, even if I don’t have a title for it. My test is hugging. But what could hugging have to do with anything, you might ask? Well, it has been my experience, in reading several hundred books a year for several years that when you encounter a book in which there is lots and lots of hugging the author is using this small action as a weak demonstration that the MC is an open, good person, makes meaningful connections with people, etc. Similarly, it shows how comfortable those people are with him/her (usually her). Now, I’m a bit of a hugger in real life, coming from the touchy-feely hippy family that I did. But I don’t hug my BFF, my ex-boyfriend, my friend’s uncle, his cop partner and the nurse who cares for my mother in the nursing home. More importantly, all those people don’t come up and hug me.

But it’s not just about hugging. The hugging is almost always accompanied by a certain innocent narrative tone, in which small things (like a hug) are made big deals of. It’s like a pearl-clad, mary jane wearing, pastel sporting teenager swooning over their first kiss while the married 40-year-old, with the kinky nightlife that’s forced to listen to it thinks, ‘God, it really just isn’t that big a thing.’ Any romance in these sorts of books are always heavily descriptive, possibly purple, and almost all tell as the narration beats the reader over the head with how awe-inspiring one person or the other is, how meaningful the small unimpressive events are, and how in looooooove they are.

The fact that this book falls within this pat(?) grouping is a guarantee that I’m not likely to enjoy it, as I almost never enjoy these books. But this book also annoyed me in other respects. I hated that as soon as Emily got together with Jake she let him start making all her decision. I didn’t like their insta-love and, even worse, their insta-relationship, which was only compounded by their insistence on waiting to have sex until their relationship was more established. I don’t know, ‘I’m ready to let you rule my life’ and ‘I’m ready to die for you’ seems pretty established to me.

I didn’t like that the author gave Emily a rich, high-power, nice guy ex, who was still madly in love with her, just to show she was a desirable commodity. I didn’t like that Emily had all this important information that she never shared with anyone. I didn’t like that she pulled the cliché, TSTL, ‘I’ll go off and save the day by myself and require rescue’ shtick a bagazillion other TSTL heroines have pulled. I didn’t like that the villain was the same old, seen it a 100 times, man obsessed with a woman he wants to own for no discernible reason. I didn’t like that people made un-followable intuitive leaps of logic that lead them to plot points. And I didn’t like the deus ex machina-like way the characters were easily able to learn just what they needed at just the right time to save the day. Too easy!

The one thing that saved this book for me was Leo and his wife. I adored their relationship. It really is a stand alone book. The editing seemed pretty clean, I don’t remember many cock-ups and to the right reader this might be a hit.