Idol by Elizabeth Lynx
The author has lost all control of her heroine here. That creature… someone please just shoot her or something.
The author has lost all control of her heroine here. That creature… someone please just shoot her or something.
MC romances are such trashy, ghastly, intelligence-free garbage bag zones.
The cover suggests that this is a raunchy read, but it’s actually a wholesome, quaintly old-school romance.
The guy on the cover is the hottest thing about this lame duck of a read.
Oh good, another story about a dead grandmother’s will forcing the heroine to go back to her ex.
This is an inconsequential kind of pleasantness.
Who wants to follow the self-absorbed prattling of a 28-year old brat?
Why is the guy on the cover taking off his shirt in the middle of a hockey game?
This story is brought to you by the letters W, T, and H.
Newsflash: psycho female drivers make the best romance heroines!