3 Stars
The Anatomy of Jane wouldn’t have even popped up on my radar if it weren’t for a comment by Kathleen on another friend’s status (about something totally unrelated, of course). When I saw this plot was regarding the ol’ ménage à trois my reaction was a little like this . . .
Now that I'm finished????
Our female lead Jane has worked as a bartender/bookkeeper/seamstress/ for a local stripjoint. While Jane has tried to keep things on the up-and-up, unfortunately her loser boss has not been doing the same. Jane finds herself in need of an income and becomes a maid to the rich and famous. Enter Maxwell and Wes. Maxwell is a famous anchor of the Fox News variety. Wes is a Michelin starred chef. The two are in a closeted relationship (due to Maxwell), but due to a confidentiality agreement are not scurrred to make with the bangbang while Jane is doing her duty. When Jane catches them in the act, a confession ends up coming about . . .
“You and I have always been honest with each other about everything.”
“And . . .”
“And I want her. I want her in bed with us, and I know you want her, too.”
Which leads us to discovering just how many licks it takes to get to the center Wes and Maxwell’s tootsie pops . . .
And some other stuff that made me go . . .
I was expecting a whole lotta bang bang into my room I wanna go bang bang all over you, so imagine my surprise when this actually had a plot too. Stuff like family secrets and owing money to the wrong people and yada yada, but you’ll have to read the book to find out all the details for yourself.
I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this as much as I did. The sexystuffs were freakin’ sexy and while a polyamorous relationship generally is not my bag, I separated myself from reality and put myself in the fantasy enough that this one worked just fine. The only thing that really didn’t work????
Now I realize this was clearly marked as #1 in a series so I knew a cliffy was possible, but good Christ can a new tired trope get invented because the one used here is soooooooo overused and makes me want to get stabby.
Oh, and because I just know it’s coming from some freaking millennial who “doesn’t like labels” or wants to cry about some other offensive blahblahblah with respect to the terms I’ve used to describe this imaginary relationship while sitting their unemployed dumpers on their parents’ couch . . .
Kiss off, you bloody donkey.
ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Now that I'm finished????
Our female lead Jane has worked as a bartender/bookkeeper/seamstress/ for a local stripjoint. While Jane has tried to keep things on the up-and-up, unfortunately her loser boss has not been doing the same. Jane finds herself in need of an income and becomes a maid to the rich and famous. Enter Maxwell and Wes. Maxwell is a famous anchor of the Fox News variety. Wes is a Michelin starred chef. The two are in a closeted relationship (due to Maxwell), but due to a confidentiality agreement are not scurrred to make with the bangbang while Jane is doing her duty. When Jane catches them in the act, a confession ends up coming about . . .
“You and I have always been honest with each other about everything.”
“And . . .”
“And I want her. I want her in bed with us, and I know you want her, too.”
Which leads us to discovering just how many licks it takes to get to the center Wes and Maxwell’s tootsie pops . . .
And some other stuff that made me go . . .
I was expecting a whole lotta bang bang into my room I wanna go bang bang all over you, so imagine my surprise when this actually had a plot too. Stuff like family secrets and owing money to the wrong people and yada yada, but you’ll have to read the book to find out all the details for yourself.
I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this as much as I did. The sexystuffs were freakin’ sexy and while a polyamorous relationship generally is not my bag, I separated myself from reality and put myself in the fantasy enough that this one worked just fine. The only thing that really didn’t work????
Now I realize this was clearly marked as #1 in a series so I knew a cliffy was possible, but good Christ can a new tired trope get invented because the one used here is soooooooo overused and makes me want to get stabby.
Oh, and because I just know it’s coming from some freaking millennial who “doesn’t like labels” or wants to cry about some other offensive blahblahblah with respect to the terms I’ve used to describe this imaginary relationship while sitting their unemployed dumpers on their parents’ couch . . .
Kiss off, you bloody donkey.
ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Thank you, NetGalley!
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