Just realized I misread Austrian as Australian. *smacks head*

Categories: Reviews by Author, A-C • Reviews by Grade: D
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In order to prevent any attempts to maim yourself, you should read this book equipped with a phrase rotation of the following:
Are you shitting me?
Come on, now.
Who are you kidding?
Do you think I’m that stupid?
and
BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA
You must also suspend reality enough to just go for a ride on the Harlequin “Yes, someone there thinks the readership is as dumb as a small box of poop” Publishing Express directly to Campy Romance Land. This is, without a doubt, the kind of book that gives romance readers the reputation that we are dumb sheep who will read anything handed to us. The only thing that stopped this book from being an outright F is that it was kind of fun to be horrified by this train wreck of a novel after awhile, once I got over the initial feeling of insult that someone in the publishing department must think I am stupid. And I’m not saying that I’m not. I mean, I PAID for this copy. Used, yes, but still, money did change hands.
OK, now you really do need to read Getting Rid of Bradley. Consider it mental floss to get out any sticky bits of this novel that may be stuck between brain cells, clogging up the works and causing mental decay.
O.M.G. I can barely breathe from laughing so hard.
Honestly, the James Frey controversy is nothing compared to this schlock. HQ actually paid for this?! The world must be ending.
You need an enema after a book like that.
Seriously, I have never before been completely dumbfounded by a book. It almost needed its own proofreader solely for continuity issues.
And yes, I need a mental enema.
Thanks. Way to “take one for the team!” Now quick, go read at least the first few chapters of Bradley before the end of the day so you can dream about sexy cops and cute doggies rather than slimey taodies and clueless construction workers with vomit-breath fetishes.
Post vomit kissing. Oh. My. God. I have never had anyone try to smooch me after holding my hair back after one too many shots, and I am now glad, since there is apparently those who are into that sort of thing.
Thank you Thank you for reading the book so we don’t have to!! I was saying “omigawd” and “you’re shitting me” (in between giggles) just reading the review, never mind the book!
Quick, quick, go grab the Crusie or the MJD and banish the babydaddy from your memory (har!).
So I guess what you’re saying is that, despite the 3 dudes and a pregnant chick on the cover, this book did not feature lots of hot monkey-lovin’, a la Emma Holly.
Damn cover - that’s what I call false advertising!
OK, don’t tell me. She trips walking down the aisle, smacks her head on the pew, and remembers who the daddy is just in time not to go through the wedding with Adrian, right? And then she cries a lot (I’m so Sorry Daddy that you had to go through this) and acts noble (I’m sorry Adrian, but I can’t marry you, you lied about the proof...)
And what is that expression about the proof of the pudding is in the sauce? Wouldn’t a blood test have straightened all this out?
At any rate, I’m SO glad you reviewed this book and spared me the frustration of spending money in order to satisfy my morbid curiosity.
Sarah, thanks for reading this so that the rest of us don’t have to. But what was the ‘proof’ that the not-babydaddy produced? Please, please tell!
OK: the proof was so not in his pudding.
SPOILER!
The proof was a photo of the two of them in Vegas cuddling, with a date stamped on the corner that would indicate she was in Vegas with anti-babydaddy instead of with hunky construction man during the Important Period of Time.
But the problem with his pudding, I mean, proof, was that in the photo she was wearing a brown dress. And she NEVER wears brown! Ever!
Sarah, your review was too kind. What an awful book! It’s a shame it was printed at all.
I think the entire purpose of the book was that so you could review it, come up with better lines (than was in the book) and provide us all with a dearly needed laugh.
I would go for the Crusie next (I still haven’t made it all the way through Derik’s Bane, so I can’t comment on that one—unless I just did, of course!). With a couple of exceptions, I rarely feel attracted to her heroes (I love the way she draws relationships among women, though, and wish there were more of that in Romance). But I found the hero of Bradley nicely sexy, which gave the book an extra zing for me.
AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA.
You don’t need a mental enema, books like this are mental enemas. When I have really bad PMS I buy the worst romance novel I can find (usually a Harlequin Presents) and the best most expensive chocolate. After eating the chocolate while spending an hour alternately yelling at the heroine and hero for their illogical, moronic behavior, praying they die before they can reproduce secretly and sobbing at the sheer awfulness of it all I am safe to return to the world. It works for me.
The gem in this entire post is the whole thing about the post-vomit kissing. I haven’t heard anything quite as unsexy as that since one of my friends from high school proudly announced that she burped into her boyfriend’s mouth while kissing him.
If I recall correctly, the woman who wrote that diaperfiller has written more books in that bizarro sub-genre. It sounds like she must be stopped befor she scars someone for life!
I never burped into their mouth while kissing, but one of my exes and I used to try to bust each other by getting into a serious kiss and then suddenly puff air in so their cheeks bulged out. I have no idea why.
I am giving it all I’ve got not to laugh. I feel too guilty.
What’s up with that? If this author was a stranger, I’d be rolling in the floor, but since I know her, and can picture her very sweet face, I’m biting my tongue off.
OFF, I say. And it’s damned painful.
Ah. My pet peeve. “Soap Opera Amnesia.”
That’s the kind of amnesia which conveniently fits the needs of the drama or plot (if indeed there is a plot), but which in fact is completely and totally BIOLOGICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO ACHIEVE.
Who is this bitch, you ask. What the hell does she know about concussions and brain injury?
A lot. It’s what I do all day. At night, I slave writing hot sweaty romances, but by day, I’m a neuropsychologist. A brain shrink.
And trust me--the kind of amnesia you just described only happens because of emotional trauma, never physical trauma (e.g., it can be “hysterical,” or even faked by the patient to suit a need, but it isn’t biologically real).
In other words, this isn’t it’s not real. It can’t happen. Did I mention that? So, there’s a plot hole large enough to maneuver a battleship through.
Gah.
This kind of crap makes me crazy. I never crit another author’s writing, but sometimes the research--or lack thereof--completely pisses me off.
By the way, I love this website. I vist every day because it makes me laugh and keeps me grounded. I will love it even when you skewer one of my books, call my hero an ass-face, or completely snark my covers.
Bitch on.
Annie Windsor
Maybe there should be an SBTB medal of honour: for services to romance above and beyond the call of duty. When I think of what you did for us, reading that book cover to cover (maybe even rereading some sections to check if it truly was as bad as you thought) ... well, I just choke up.
I’m waiting for Harlequin to come out with a “Guys in Prison” series. I’m sure as many women fantasize about inmates as they do about Nascar drivers. At least, I do.
ok *deep breath* I’ve finally stopped laughing long enough to register my disappointment about the lack of group sex. (I know, I know, too much to hope for.) I’m now going to re-read the spoiler filled “proof” that one of the characters gave and resume laughing hysterically.
Thank you Sarah, for taking this one for the team. Surely the karma reaped from this deed has you set for life.
Awesome review, Sarah! I almost want to read it… the way you should read this crazy ass book, The Counterfeit Secretary by Susan Napier.
It’s frickin’ crazy. And the hero? An actual psycho.
This review is hilarious! I’m almost tempted to read the book because it sounds like one of those books you enjoy reading because it’s bad.
01.28.06 at 06:39 PM |