East of Peculiar by Suzann Ledbetter
Should we blame Janet Evanovich for the proliferation of dotty old people in mystery stories?
Should we blame Janet Evanovich for the proliferation of dotty old people in mystery stories?
The hero is an ass but that’s okay, he’s Scots and Scots can’t do anything wrong!
Western romances are quite scarce these days, and I guess, so is innovation. Or originality.
The hero and the heroine are so clueless, it’s a wonder they could even breathe with their heads so deep up their rear ends.
The main characters are such ninnies. The title is indeed prophetic.
This one is just meh with some side helping of ugh.
The author guards her tropes faithfully.
Wait, haven’t I seen this one before? At least two times already?
Zzzzzz at the heroine’s crybaby antics and passive behavior.
Did someone say “Bore Season”?