Alianne Donnelly, $0.99
Fantasy Romance, 2016
Set in a fantasy world where fairy tale characters rule a hidden realm that is still powered by technology as well as magic, Catch Me stars Haig Cavanaugh, a talented member of Queen Snow’s Rebel Court, as he continuously attempts to shove his overheated fairy pee-pee into the orifices of the predictably cool and supposedly aloof tracker Aislin. Their mission? Unknown to Aislin, he’s to take out a fifteen-year old brat of Snow’s now dead stepmother, because that kid could threaten Snow White’s right to plunk her rear end onto the throne.
This one is an example of a tired, overdone story that tick off all the items on the laundry list with all the liveliness of a tired old tortoise with osteoporosis.
Buffy-speak with modern day cuss words thrown in to show off how sassy and hey gurl these characters are. Tick.
A heroine who is all hey sistas we are all doing it for ourselves, only to go oops, she’s not so capable after all, so help please, Mr Big Strong Man? Tick.
A heroine who can’t quit the hero despite his persistent sexual harassment because they are linked by sexy dreams? Tick.
Slut shaming? Well, here you go:
Never before had Haig looked at a woman and felt his skin crawl. He did now, watching one of the inn’s wenches inch her skirt up her pale leg. A few days ago, he would have appreciated the come-on. He’d have enjoyed the show as she revealed her plump thigh and let the shoulder of her blouse drop so far he could see the top crest of her areola. He’d have pulled her onto his lap and bounced her up and down until her breasts spilled out completely and then he’d have gone to town on them until she melted in his arms.
Looking at her now, Haig felt nothing but disgust. Pale skin smothered with powder, unnecessarily red cheeks, garish rouge, bright yellow wig that hadn’t been brushed in days… She looked like what she was: trash. So far removed from the reserved, vital beauty upstairs, they were almost a different species.
Big effing tick. Don’t ask me why the hero isn’t considered trash for sleeping with these women, by the way. I guess a man gotta do his thang, and we independent women just have to wave it off and hate the sluts our man do that thang on. Ain’t that right, sisters?
A plot that somehow mutates into a countdown as to whether the hero will get to stick his thang into the heroine, because ultimately, that is the whole point of this story? Tick.
I just came out tentatively from a reading slump. Things like this one seem determined to drive me back into the slump, sigh.