Riot by Tillie Cole

3 Stars



Ha! I keed. It’s actually Val . If you want a smutastically funny reviewer to follow or friend, she’s a winner. She’s also the person who put this (what appears to be final) selection of the Scarred Souls series on my radar so blame her for this garbage review wasting all your data.

I had big plans for when I read this . . . .



However, I ended up reading it sober. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t hit right out of the ol’ ballpark for me. Or maybe I just channeled my former non-porn reading self . . . .



Before anybody goes all apeshit and tells me I read this wrong, allow me to state for the record that I have read two others in this series and even though the first didn’t really work for me much at all, the other I liked oh so berry berry much. I will totally own up to the fact that a lot of the problems I had with Riot were mine and not the book's. But let’s start with the positives.

The covers. This whole series is nothing but #sploosh when it comes to the fronts.

I love this world hardcore. It’s oh so very Thunderdomey and I get all moist excited just thinking about all these sweaty Russkies fighting to the death . . . .



This one also had a plot. It made for less of the sexuals, but it tied everything together quite well. The story here was about 901 and 152. If you’ve read this series before, you’ll know that the characters are prisoners of an evil “Master” and known only by assigned numbers. 901 is the best fighter in the Blood Pit, 152 is the Master’s number one whore. In an attempt to break 901’s spirit and make him obedient, the Master gifts him with 152 so he will develop all the feels and have something he’s afraid of losing. (There’s also stuff with the former featured players from the previous books in the series, but I don’t do the spoilsies.)

So there you have it. Now let’s talk about how I read this wrong because it’s far more entertaining than when I read things right.

First, 152’s official job title was called the “mona” – which my mind constantly replaced with . . . .



Good Christ brain, that’s a child FFS! It made the pervy good time nearly impossible to achieve.

Second, to prove a sober brain is a horrible brain, I also thought of the Master like this the entire time I was reading . . . .



Which was hilarious, but I’m fairly certain that wasn’t really the reaction Tillie Cole was going for.

Third, although 901 was clearly described as a giant blonde, as soon as a leading male is described as a giant who is twice as broad as the average petite leading lady I want to cast him as either Jason Momoa or . . . .



Again, that would be great if I had not just watched Central Intelligence with the boychild – thus making 901 be . . . .



Fat Robbie.

And then there was the sexytimes. Why did the term “channel” get brought back in to play?????? Channel does not conjure good imagery. At all . . . .



(^^^^^Makes you want to run to Sonic, don’t it Ron?)

Anway, this ended up being just okay for me. If I would have gone with my gut instinct and read it while loaded it probably would have been 5 Stars and my husband would be a much happier camper too. At least he scored some jambalaya out of the dead for Mardi Gras weekend . . . .



ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. 
Thank you, NetGalley!