Ugh, there’s a knight here who spends all the time moping and feeling sorry for himself, while the wife does all the heavy lifting.
A whiny white boy complains that he isn’t appreciated or understood enough even as girls throw themselves at him. Whose wet dream is this again?
Alas, the weapon failed to take off…
I won’t claim to be an expert in understanding the mind of a 16-year old girl, but the 16-year old girl in this story really befuddles me.
A couple of losers wake up in a scary building… you know, that whole thing is so, so played out by now.
Annoying and dull tourists get caught in an earthquake in Chile. Good news: they get hurt. Bad news: it’s still boring.
Why do these brats make growing up sound even more boring than it already is?
The title is accurate: the heroine is the seducer here. Too bad she makes such a vomit-inducing mess of things.
The last book in the trilogy is also the best, but that’s not saying much as there are so many things off with this baby.
The plot can barely fit a novella, but the author attempts to stretch it into a full-length novel. No, it doesn’t work.
Good news: Rusty Joiner takes off his shirt once or twice here. Bad news: you can see more of him online, this movie blows.
This is either an unintentionally hilarious comedy or a horrible B-grade flick unfit for consumption. Pick your poison.
Kristen Proby should be commended for writing vicarious power trips for the lonely and unhappy. Shame that I’m in a better place at the moment.
If the characters are sensible, this story would end on a high note by page 50. So, they are not sensible, and I am not happy.
More like The Bore.
It has ships and murder, and yet I feel like I’m trapped in some kind of wake where I don’t even know the fellow who died.
So, how much do you like staring at an author’s belly button?
Thin is beautiful, and if we aren’t thin, we won’t get that hot guy to fall in love with us! Whatever, give me my chocolates.
The real magic show here is how the author can send me into a bored stupor in such a short time.
Fancy a Morgan-flavored pinot noir with your Christmas turkey? You’d love the familiar taste of double standards that put women in their place.