First up, Sylvia’s got a review up here.
Secondly, Bitch goes all macro on a bad book. <3
And now… our sentences of the week!
From The Delilah Complex:
The way she imitated the worst traits in a man made him pity her. Why did she force her toughness? Didn’t she know how much more powerful women were than men, even if they were in pink sweater sets?
Holy non sequiter, Batman, you thought about pink sweater sets when this chick is grilling you for a story about a possible serial killer when she’s the ONLY REPORTER/PERSON the killer is sending INCRIMINATING EVIDENCE to. WTF? Her “toughness” and manliness should be the last things on your mind.
We’re about 28% of the way through this one. I gotta confess, I ended up finishing this. What can I say? Long bus ride, only book downloaded, FAIL. Here’s another sentence.
He knew better than to think he could ever fix what was wrong with anyone, but he was certain that he was what she needed. And he was even more certain that if Morgan had what she needed in a man, she could finally heal herself.
Anyways, here’s the sitch. Jordain (the he) is a sexypants detective from New Orleans, who plays sexy jazz and makes sexy food. He’s also just shown up and had sex with the sex therapist he’s brought on as a consultant for the same serial killer case mentioned above AND has spent a few lines here and there complaining about the reporter whose forced “toughness” shows that she has no idea that women are innately more powerful than men, “even in pink sweater sets.” Anyways, I eventually picked this moment 80% in as my mental breaking point: here, we’ve got a man so arrogant that he’s assuming he can fix a woman who was trying to talk out her ambivalent feelings about beginning a sexual/romantic relationship while he’s sucking on her nipples and who says repeatedly that she can’t do this and doesn’t feel comfortable. I know he’s supposed to be a semi-perfect love interest — he’s a musician, a cop, a hottie, a great cook, immediately vibes with your kids, knows what you need even when you don’t, etc. — but this kind of smugness and this muddying of consent in a thriller about sex and BDSM? Uh, no.