Sara by Ellie Macdonald
A whiny special snowflake and a doormat sex-mad bunny boiler, together in love. Just kill me already.
A whiny special snowflake and a doormat sex-mad bunny boiler, together in love. Just kill me already.
The author commits the greatest authorial crime ever: she fails to make me care even a little about her story.
It is never about this book. It’s all about the next book, when Lyon Whatshisname finally faces the firing squad.
There are many dramatic moments here, and the romance is lost in there, somewhere.
It almost breaks my brain too.
Violence, gritty reality, trauma. and then cut to Vanessa Williams singing Colors of the Wind. Yeah. what the heck.
I feel so sorry for the heroine – the hero and his family are a bunch of pretty disgusting people.
Good lord, how many more books are there by this author?
The heroine mouths and acts sassy like a Disney TV heroine, and then pulls out a condom. That’s so wrong.
The author still has it. Now, if only she would apply her magic to her longer works.