Cassandra O’Leary, $0.99, ISBN 979-8215848234
Contemporary Romance, 2022
First, off, PSA: Cassandra O’Leary’s Friday I’m in Love also appears on the anthology Hot in the City, so don’t get this one if you’re already in possession of that anthology.
Anyway, since we are all hot in the city, heroine Megan Macauley loves to spy on the hot guy at the apartment across the road from her office. Hey, it’s not creepy when it’s done by a woman, especially the heroine, alright?
His was a repeat performance, same bat-time, same bat-channel, every Friday at 10 am, the hunk of burning love unlocked his door, strode across the room and stripped down to his black nylon gym shorts in front of his apartment’s floor to ceiling windows. Said apartment just happened to be right opposite her desk, give or take four metres across the laneway and a pane of glass or two. It was a spacious loft full of leather sofas, funky looking lamps, an enormous flatscreen TV and computers. A man cave. Not a feminine knick knack in sight. But that was beside the point.
So yes, he whips off his towel, gives the heroine and the token no-filter brassy BFF of hers a rear nudity show, and I then look back at the cover that tells me that this is supposed to be sweet and saucy romance. Oh yes, I can tell that the sauce is leaking, definitely.
Anyway, our hero is Cruz Ono. The first name is Australian, the last name is Japanese, because our hero is of mixed race that way. Wait, can I say “mixed race” these days, or is there a more acceptable term for that type of people? “Racially diverse”? Whatever, we’re just here for his ass, although sadly not in a gay or strap-on way.
He conveniently turns out to be her new boss, so to speak, and he lets her know that he is well aware of her peeking at him. Still, he won’t tell and she can keep the job if she would agree to something special with him.
Seriously, folks, all this is perfectly acceptable when it’s a hot guy asking these things of the heroine. In fact, because he’s hot, all of this leads to a warm, cuddly, and giggly start of promising new happily ever after.
The story is actually sort of cute, except for those times when the author is trying too hard to be cute with the heroine’s “Oh, silly me, hee-hee!” kind of false klutziness and everything about that horrifying creature Jean. Barring the forced cuteness, there is a nice tempo and style to the whole romantic comedy happening here.
It’s a shame that the whole thing only is palatable when the hero is hot and the heroine is, well, the heroine. Under any other circumstances, this would be a story of invasive voyeurism and sexual harassment that will have outraged people screaming bloody horror on TikTok and what have you.
