Zebra, $5.99, ISBN 0-8217-6922-7
Paranormal Romance, 2002
I have no idea… why Veronica Sattler… loves to abuse the use… of punctuation – like this – and that – and this… so much… and so… annoying… is it because… she believes that the readers of her prequel to Come Midnight – the same one she gushes to be a “classic” in the foreword? I think… by the way – authors who gush about what “classics” their books are… are just plain dodgy.
Maybe… maybe… the author believes that… readers of that 80s “classic” – don’t quote me, please, it’s her own word – The Bargain are now… doddering octogenarians… the only ones… who enjoy being talked to… slowly… like this… just like how you will… talk to a senile old coot.
Okay, enough. I’m irritating myself trying to write like Veronica Sattler, albeit only a little more exaggerated, of course.
This story is annoying. It is one of those stories where the main characters give one-dimensionality a bad, obscene name and it even makes Satan looks bad. I don’t think “go to hell” will be a phrase appropriate to describe this book now, because Mr Satan himself might appear in a puff of brine stone smoke and turn me into a toad in a righteous burst of indignation.
Our hero Adam Lightfoot is very angry with his wife. The wife is such a tosser, because like our hero says, she is so frozen down there he will get a frostbite just sticking Mr Wonky in there. Too bad. I’d love to personally break that frozen, useless icicle stick into pieces myself. Besides, she dares to scold him, challenge him, and berate him for having mistresses. How that she! I mean, seriously, we all know a man has that god-given right to seek out other women – bitchy, jealous ones – for comfort just because that wife can’t make him happy. Who the hell does that woman think she is? She’s only a wife! What does she expect? Respect, fidelity?
Serves her right when she DIES in an accident soon after. Bitch. Bring on the innocent, pure, all-giving romance heroine!
Wait, when Bitch dies, Adam’s son Andrew is also badly hurt. Since now is convenient for Adam to profess some deep affections for his son, so that if I am not reading too closely, I will think he’s actually a good father, he gives his soul to the devil in return for his son’s being okay again.
The devil comes and says hi, and I wonder what the devil see in that dumb Adam’s soul anyway. Jeez, Mr Satan, you’re not that bored, are you?
Well, you know Adam. The son gets well, and now he will find ways to break his pact with Satan, just like how he broke his marriage vows and all.
Oh, sorry, am I supposed to say that? Okay, it’s all the Bitch’s fault. Are we happy now?
In comes Caitlin O’Brian. A name like Caitlin = Irish = dumb wench with Sight = introductory scene has her tending to sick old lady = pure = innocent = super martyr = doormat. You get the idea? Caitlin becomes Andrew’s nanny. Adam seduces his son’s nanny.
Oh, sorry, I’m not supposed to say that too? Fine, give me that joint and I’ll tell you this is one happy, sunny romance.
Adam loves Caitlin. Why? Let me quote: “the chit was young… and inordinately pretty.” And I am supposed to believe that this Flo-Nightingale wannabe minus all semblance of humanity will keep him sexually satisfied for the rest of his life? If skanks and hos can’t keep Adam happy, what good is this useless, submissive rag doll?
Fine, I’ll shut up. Give me another joint.
