“I play games for a living, Van.”
When Shelby told me she was reading (and enjoying) this one 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
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 ask 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 . . . .
“I’m sorry I’m not sorry.”
This book made me feel like . . . .
All the Stars. I’ll definitely be reading more of this author. Especially if she writes a book about Zac. PLEEEEEAAAAASE WRITE A BOOK ABOUT ZAC?????