Every once in a while when the mood strikes me, I would read a book like this to relieve stress. So I don't usually feel much like choking to death thEvery once in a while when the mood strikes me, I would read a book like this to relieve stress. So I don't usually feel much like choking to death the kind of men many historical romances feature--you know, ogre-like men who tend to throw women over their shoulders (my closet feminist self goes right back into the closet).
But the way Connor, the main lead, was written lacked the usual subtlety about their obvious "ogre-ness" that came with it. I don't know if that's how Julie Garwood's male characters are all like but I was annoyed every time Connor was worried that showing the slightest consideration or affection to his wife would cost him his balls of manliness. No, seriously. The story is so in love with the idea of softening a gruff man into a fuzzy teddy bear (which doesn't come close to happening, by the way) that it's near ridiculous. I'm not ooh-ing and ah-ing.
Alright, I didn't dislike reading this as much as it appears I did. I actually planned to give this a rating of 4 stars yesterday as soon as I was finished with it. I'm still hovering between a 3 and a 4 star rating so I'll settle for 3.5.
I just want more thought to be put behind those male leads in historical romances. They feel so much alike (with their tough, I'm-a-man-rawr exteriors) and so processed I find them hard to like unless I'm bored out of my mind and I don't care much.
As for Brenna, I thought she was okay. Sometimes I felt like slapping her to get her act together but she had this really-young vibe to her; she pretends to be strong when she's pretty insecure and tries hard to please others. She still had an air of familiarity about her, in the way she would incredibly amuse all the men by being "willful" and "brave" and "opiniated". The fiery, spirited woman lead who cracks the hostile man's walls by being the opposite of meek towards him. Sounds familiar?
Maybe I managed to keep my brain off when I was reading this but now I'm all fired up. LOL. I didn't mean to dissect and analyze a historical romance (can you compare it to a crime, or would that be pushing it?) when I started writing this review but it just happened. ...more
You know, it's a little funny how we're pretty crazy about letting everyone know how a book sucked (in every way, in every language, and in every descYou know, it's a little funny how we're pretty crazy about letting everyone know how a book sucked (in every way, in every language, and in every description allowed) but are too lazy to praise a book to no end.
Or maybe that's just me, 'cause I finished this book like a week ago but only now got up to write a crappy review about it.
The Lies of Locke Lamora is a big, big bundle of fun, swear words that would bleed a sailor's ears, amazing sense of humor, and crazy setting description of a Venice-like city.
Forget about your standard fantasy books. I tried picking up Michael Moorcock'sVon Bek but I couldn't keep reading it because Lynch's writing was too fresh in my memory to easily compare. Maybe I should try other genres for a while.
I can't keep praising the book 'cause that gets old and boring but I've got one thing to say: I bow to Lynch's awesomeness (but he should totally cut that hair because it's not so awesome).