I picked up a copy of Melle Amade‘s Monsters of Midlife as an Amazon freebie.
I’ve dreamt about dark, ravenous monsters my entire life. Last night I found out…all my darkest dreams are real.
At forty-five I didn’t think life had many surprises left, but I was so, so wrong. Monsters do exist and last night their demigod, Ryder, came to me asking for help.
I would have been more willing if Ryder wasn’t my younger, too-hot-to-handle ex-husband.
Apparently, he was hiding a few things during our marriage. I thought it was girlfriends when I divorced him. But according to him he’s been protecting the world by keeping his kind at bay. I wouldn’t have believed him except he turned into a creepy black monster with fangs, three glowing eyes, shiny black horns, and pointed ears right in front of me!
Having Ryder back in my life releases something inside me I didn’t realize existed. It’s overbearing, angry, and chaotic. And I realize I still have feelings for him, but this time, they’re unleashing the monster buried deep inside myself.
I’ll help him save the world, but the one thing I can’t afford to do is fall in love with him again.
Not now. Not ever.
I’ll lose more than my heart, I’ll lose my humanity.
Look, I fully expected this to be a silly, ridiculous read. I was not looking for great literature or anything serious. But the simple fact is that this book is poorly done. No one is likable. He shows no moments to appreciate, and she is consistently too-stupid-to-live. The emotions are all overwrought and over-amplified. You feel no chemistry between the characters. The world is not fleshed out. The dialogue is cringy. (So is the single-sex scene). The plot jumps around willy-nilly, and then the book just ends practically in the middle of a scene. So, the whole thing feels incomplete on top of everything else. I will not be continuing the series. 
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