After Twilight by Dee Davis
Run, Kacy, run! The bad guys are coming to get you!
Run, Kacy, run! The bad guys are coming to get you!
The secondary cast steal the scene, and everything else, from the main couple.
I think “boring perfection” epitomizes the author’s books.
Time travel sex conga with a Highland beefcake, anyone?
How many times can you feel sorry for a self-pitying bad boy?
Dreaming, dreams of dreamy dreaming… in dream.
It’s like Bram Stoker on acid.
Another asshole vicar hero in a romance novel. What happened to all the nice ones?
The intrigue is enjoyable, but the hero’s recalcitrance is obnoxious to follow.
No, this is not Superman porn. Shame, it’d probably be more interesting if it was.