Description from Amazon:
They say there’s nothing wrong with me, but I can’t walk.
At least not more than a couple of feet at a time. Like from bed to my wheelchair.
I crawled out of the wreckage of our family car seconds before it burst into flame at the base of the cliff, killing my parents. I screamed my lungs raw for help, even though I knew they couldn’t be saved, but nobody came for nearly twenty-four hours. It rained, and I shivered in the chill, the scent of burned upholstery and other things filling my nose.
My aunt cared for me for a short while, but when she also died in an accident—a house fire that nearly took me out as well—I was placed in the care of a hired nurse who made sure I took my meds and waited on me hand and foot. Over time I lost what little strength I had, until I never left my room, almost bedridden, my only contact with the outside world online classes.
But when I turned eighteen, I had to make a change or I’d end up dying here, old and alone and without any hope. So now I have my small apartment in a new town, living on my own for the first time and attending classes at the local community college. My parents’ insurance is running out, but I have a job in the school library, and as long as I take my pills every day, I seem to do all right.
It’s not much of a life, but so much more than I ever had.
When Brandon Graves knocked on my door, the look of shock on his face was priceless. Apparently, he’d never seen a shifter in a wheelchair before.
He said I was on pack lands and therefore had to meet with the Alpha, his brother.
So much for staying under the radar.
I’m angry, so so angry. Ok, maybe angry isn’t the right word. Disappointed is better. But it makes me feel better to rant and say I’m angry. While I have other things to add, let me get the big one out of the way and it’s a spoiler, be warned.
I bought this book because it has a heroine on the cover who uses a wheelchair. The blurb says that she was injured in an accident as a child and now can’t walk unassisted. I thought, ‘Wow, a person with a mobility disability getting some rep. I am all in!’ Imagine my immense disappointment to discover that the plot moves along with her regaining her ability to walk and no longer needing her wheelchair. (If you care to glance at the covers of books 2,3, and 4 you’ll see she’s up, on her feet and walking. Presumably even well enough to fight, if you judge by the sword.)
That’s no longer representation. That’s…that’s…well, that’s something else. And I was super annoyed every time one of the heroes asked her to leave the chair behind, or walk a little farther, etc. I realize the author meant this to be them encouraging her, but I felt like they were trying to separate her from her disability, rather than accept her as she is. The miracle cure trope needs to die. It’s like a bait and switch—you thought you were getting some real disability representation, but nope, we were just using the disability of a prop or disposable plot device.
Outside of this big disappointment, that I won’t be continuing the series because of (even though this book ended on a giant and abrupt cliffhanger), I liked the four heroes and the heroine. Though the four guys didn’t seem to be getting the same amount of page time and none of them had any depth as characters. I thought the inclusion of a single other female, as a BFF, was tokenish. Why are books so often entirely populated by men? The writing is simplistic (with a tendency to tell) but perfectly readable, though the editing could use another pass. All in all, it’s fine, but the author burned a bridge with me. So, I’m done.