Reading, for me, is entertainment and an escape from the real world. But it can also inform and stretch the boundaries of the life I live.
The plot was nonsensical and full of holes. The characters’ motivations made no sense. The “romance” consisted of mindless possessive lust, with zero reasons for emotional connection. The main characters thought and behaved like sexually precocious toddlers. Him: My toy! Waahhh he's touching my toy! You can't have it! Mine! Her: You're a meanie! I hate you! I hate you forever and ever! Wait, that’s my toy! You can’t have it! Mine! Mine! I don’t want it! You can’t have it!
I tried to finish this, I really did. I tried swilling wine and powering through the pages, but found myself preferring to watch replays of old baseball games rather than reading. I found myself preferring to wash dishes rather than reading. I dreaded having to open this book and actually move my eyes across the page.
DNF at 57%. I was trying to read this for the Romance Bingo challenge. It was meant for the Man in a Kilt square for my first planned bingo, but I’ve got 2 Jude Deveraux and a Diana Gabaldon on my TBR that I can substitute instead. It would have also fit the squares for Rogue, Wedding Bells, and Historical Romance.
EDIT: My sister highly recommended this to me, and I had bought the entire series before trying the first one. I'll never forgive her.