“I didn’t finish the series. It got too …” I don’t want to talk about the increasing amount of sex in the books. Not with Sam. Not in this car, which seems to be shrinking each moment I don’t finish my sentence. I like my fantasy with little to no romance, which makes it surprising I liked even the first book. But as the series progressed, so did the focus on the romance, and I just got bored. “A little too what?” Sam presses. I run a hand through my hair. “I got tired of reading about ... wingspans.”
