OMG. I just finished reading a romance novel WORSE than the last one I told you about. If I don't rectify this problem it is going to be one long-ass, frustrating, blue-balls (or, well, the girl version) kinda summer.
Two kisses. Two mother fucking kisses. And tepid, watery, 'hold back so I don't frighten her' kinda kisses. Give me a fucking break. Maybe I'll do what Andrea's doing and re-read GWTW. Because at least when sex isn't described, like-- in GWTW there's none of the "He took his pulsing manhood and slid it into her wetness...", but I'll tell you what, that fucking novel sizzles anyway. Rhett Butler kisses that girl until she's quite literally dizzy and faint. Yup. And very, very wet, as I'd imagine. That isn't said, explicitly, It's more implied, but hell, you're wet by the end of the passage so you gotta figure Miss Scarlett is too!
But this book? That I read? Good Grief. I could tell the author loved her characters, and had great ideas, great nuggets of plot elements, but good jesus, she just couldn't seem to make an effective story with it all. And plus. C'mon. No heated fondling? No capturing of the nipples in the mouth? Not even a trail of kisses down her goddamn neck to get her lightheaded? Not even the curtesy of an ass grab? Not one fucking ASS GRAB?
I mean maybe if there had been enough, or excuse me, some, no, pardon, ANY FUCKING FOREPLAY i.e. ass grab, neck kiss, titty lick, etc, then I might have been pleasntly accepting of the fact that it is all consummated 'off screen' between the conclusion and the happy epilogue in which a passel of children romp about, somehow proving to me that the sex was so good they just can't seem to avoid procreating (lol, such crazy logic but we women seem to be suckers for that. Oh man, do you remember when you first learned about sex and what people do to make babies and then you thought to yourself: 'Oh my god! My PARENTS did that to eachother? ew!' and then the thinking went that, well they probably didn't do it much at all, probably just the exact amount of times necessary to produce you and whatever siblings you had? lol. I was sure my parents had only ever had sex 4 times until I overheard evidence to the contrary one night. Yeah, creeps.)
Oh, and Christ-on-a-cracker, I really thought, at one point, that this could get good, you know, because one of the main plot points is that this woman (20 years old) looks to be about 15, but a YOUNG fifteen, not a super developed, ready to mount-and-mate kind of fifteen. Awesome sauce right? I thought: oooh, now here's a story line I can get behind. He is afraid to be attracted to her because she'd so fucking YOUNG and he doesn't want to be a pervert, doesn't want to be a lecher... But guess what? He IS attracted to her, because, duh, they're meant to be together, so I'm like: awwww yeah, guilty sex with a minor... but nope. He apparently has SELF CONTROL, and WILL POWER, two very disappointing traits for your hero to posesss. And then later, when he discovers she's of a perfectly reasonoble age to 'bed', he is relieved and says to himself soemthing like: Oh, even though my mind was confused my body responded to her because on some DEEPER LEVEL I knew her to be old enough.
Wait for it...
FUCK YOU!
Like, I can't give you the finger hard enough. You were attracted to her because of the fucking pheremones she's spraying everywhere, you douche. And guess what? You were attracted to her BECAUSE she looks young and tight, not IN SPITE OF... chirst. Are you kidding me? Don't fucking pull that baloney. If the man had ben fond of round, well-developed ladies (as many a man in a romance novel is), then guess what? Our heroine would have been round and curvy. And if he THOUGHT he was only attracted to well developed women but found himself UNEXPECTEDLY ATTRACTED to this bean-pole, then that would be one thing, I've seen that done too, but it would not have required this silly RUSE about her AGE and his ridiculous preoccupation with it. Because she was OBVIOUSLY his intellectual equal, 'mature beyond her young age...' says he, so I charge thee, AUTHOR: what the FUCK? Don't play these dangerous little mind games, the Lolita cock-tease games, if you ain't got the sack to back that shit up. Fuck you. Hard. In the ass. (And no, this novel didn't even FLIRT with such a fun notion., that's just me inserting my wishes (forceibly) into it.)
Ugh. Sigh. Aaron can't understand how I am able to finish shitty books when I know they're so shitty and they have no apparent redeeming qualities. I'm not sure, other than the knowledge that despite how grueling it was, despite begrudging the time I was wasting while reading, I still found myself irritatingly attatched to knowing how it all turned out for these infuriatingly tame lovahz. Will he ever get to kiss her titty? Will she ever stroke his manhood? I mean I knew they'd overcome whatever -yawn- adversity the author contrived (and oh christ, how contrived! I was actually enraged by the weak, flaccid 'obstacles' and impediments to their love that this woman dreamt up. good mother mary my act one scene one students can create more effective drama.), knew they would eventually come to understand one another and marry and live happily ever after. That is the sole function of a romance novel. Many believe it is to be erotica, but nay, even without sex, a romance novel must be about the union of two souls who are MEANT TO BE TOGETHER and share a perfect love for all time. Even if that love bores me to sexually frustrated tears. Anyhow I needed to have CLOSURE or I'd likely be thinking about this book for the rest of the goddamn summer and that awful thought was enough to spur me to the finish line.
And it is done. And it was unceremoniously chucked against the wall upon completion, with a growl of anger and exhasperation, and it still lays discarded on the floor over there because I can't even bother to pick that garbage up and dispose of it the way I should. So thanks, awful romance novel, thanks for wasting a good chunk of my LIFE with your muddled plot, your insufficient complications, your underperforming erotica and your ear-reddingly embarrassing lovey-dialogue, Vomit in Mouth.
Too bad too, because you really did have the potential to be enjoyable. Alas and Alack.
Perhaps D will lend me Sookie next. I opened one of those up while dog sitting and was VERY PLEASED with the passage I read! LOL!!
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2 comments:
The Papi is almost done with book 1! How was that romance novel I gave you a zillion years ago? Any good doing of 'it'?
hahahahaha!!!!!! Sounds like a rewrite to me!!! Yeah, I hate leaving a book unsatisfied. Total tease!!!!!
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