Astoria Lucas, $1.50, ISBN 978-1005712433
Contemporary Romance, 2022

Ugh, the formatting of the file! I tried out several available formats (EPUB, PDF, etc) but they all have this same bizarre shift with the text, initially aligned to the left, suddenly becoming centered instead. Astoria Lucas is very fond of super long paragraphs, to the point that sometimes a single page consists of a single paragraph, or in some cases, two-thirds of a paragraph. To me, it can be hard on the eyes to go through such a long wall of text when the text in question is center-aligned.

Still, no matter. I’ve read worse things, so with a chug of sugar-free Coke, I shall persevere.

Hastily, I throw the last of my belongings in the now overflowing suitcase. It had been my mother’s when she was young given to her as a gift by her father. She wanted to be a traveller when she was child; however, her plans were halted when she met my Dad. They went to the same school, but my dad was two years older than her. They didn’t start dating until my Dad’s final year at school. She found out she was pregnant with me when she was 20. At the time, my Dad was studying at medical school and my mother was studying business in university. When they decided they wanted to keep me, my mum dropped out of university so she could be a stay-at-home parent. I remember us being quite poor when I was little. We often didn’t have much food in the house and things like having brand new clothes were a luxury. We would go bargain hunting in charity shops if we needed new things because they were always cheaper there.

Jesus, no wonder the paragraphs are super long. The above is the opening paragraph and the author already can’t wait to vomit exposition on me.

Since the heroine Annie is a 180 of Lucy from the movie While You Were Sleeping, let’s use the latter as an example. Sure, that movie begins with a flashback, which one can argue is a form of exposition, but you see, it’s a memory of Lucy and her father, so it makes sense that she thinks of how his father had wanderlust and encouraged her to see the world too.

Here, though, the heroine is supposed to be doing things with some degree of urgency, but she also acts like she’s on my couch and I am her therapist, and she’s going to unload a whole lot of baggage on me. On page one, when we’ve barely even met yet. I know young people move fast these days, but come on, at least buy me dinner first?

I found the suitcase in a cupboard when I was a packing for university. The zip often gets stuck, and you can see the seams are starting to come apart but over the past few years it has become my most prized possession. I was not someone who liked to stay in one place for too long; the suitcase is the only thing that has been constantly by my side through everything. As I finally manage to cram my belongings into the overused suitcase; I take the time to look around the place I have called home for the past 3 months. It is bigger than I would have liked. I would prefer somewhere smaller, so it doesn’t feel so empty. But then it isn’t just me living here. It isn’t even my flat, it belongs to John, my about to be ex-boyfriend. There are very few things I genuinely like about the flat. I think the furniture is too stiff and proper, much like John. John only ever shows the nice side of himself, like he’s happy all the time. I don’t think he even has a bad side to him. If he does, he hides it well. The walls are all painted white. Sometimes I feel like I am in a showroom rather than my home. It got to the point where at times I was scared to touch anything in fear I would damage it, or I would put it back in the wrong place.

That’s the second paragraph. I’m already exhausted. Can I stop now? It’s my $1.50, so I can say I’ve paid my penance, literally, and call it a day, right?

The next few paragraphs see the heroine rambling about John, John’s father, how she thinks her neighbors are up to something shady… girl, pick a topic and stick to it, please. This thing is like the rambling of a drunken loon. Why on earth do I need to know all this, anyway, when Annie is packing to leave this place, John, and the neighborhood?

Let me check to see whether John is the hero. Ah nope, it says in the synopsis that the hero is:

Benjamin Lorde, the heir to Lorde industries, the most elite clothing brand in the world.

Oh good, that means he can ask for a free gag to shut this heroine up.

At this point, my eyes are probably crossed in a manner no ordinary human is capable of doing, because I swear I am seeing colors that exist probably only in some dark, eldritch dimension. Let me just skip to random pages, to see whether things improve later on.

He sighs before sitting down on the bed with me. He hesitates before he speaks. “After my mum died my dad, he wasn’t there. I just wanted him to listen to me. He couldn’t deal with the grief. He closed himself off from everyone including me. I didn’t have much of an appetite after my mum died. I mean who would”, he loosens his tie pulling it off and putting it on the bed. Before unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt. “My dad would let the maids to look after me but the longest they ever stayed was no more than six weeks. He kept changing them”. He lets out a small grin. “Not because I was naughty. I don’t think he wanted me to get attached to any of them. Any time they would make something my mum used to cook I would get upset and refuse to eat it. I know it sounds silly, but I felt like I was replacing her”. I reach out and lightly stroke his arm. “It doesn’t sound silly”, I comfort.

“I started skipping meals”, he turns away from my gaze like he’s embarrassed. “Not on purpose. Well, not at first but then after a while it became like a game. How long could I go till my next meal? The maids were worried about me. I barely ate anything but a lot of them put it down to the fact I was still mourning. It’s not like they would have been able to get hold of my dad anyway”. Her tugs at his hair frustratedly. “It got easier to hide it when I was older. I could just say I was running late to school so I could skip breakfast. Or I could say I was having dinner with my friends. No one suspected a thing”. I sit listening in silence.

Holy crap, imagine having the first date with some guy and he talks like that to me. I don’t care what he looks like, I’m calling for the check right away… well, unless he’s hot and he promises to wear a gag later on, but still, nope, swiping left with extreme prejudice here.

Also, I assume there is a typo and the author is saying that “he”, not “her” is tugging at his hair “frustratedly”. If telling this story makes him yank hard at his hair, I see baldness in his future, if it isn’t already present. Sure, bald men can be hot, but we’re talking about a guy creating his own bald spots while being a neurotic babblemouth with daddy issues. No thanks, swiping left!

One more thing: what happened to the punctuation? Was this thing written by some AI?

Okay, since I paid for this thing and am under no obligation to review it due to some contractual “you give me free things, I have to review them positively” thing, I am just going to stop here, walk to the window, open it, and shriek like those poor people in Shanghai under lockdown.

My Lorde. My god.