Most days I like reviewing. I'll tell you that "I like reading books I normally wouldn't pick up on my own" or "I like discovering new authors." Blah, blah, blah. Right now I just want to ram my head through a wall.
If I were to assign grades for my last three review books they'd be D-, C-, D. If I don't read something good soon The Boyfriend might find me sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth, drooling.
The latest offender was In The Groove by Pamela Britton. I've liked some of her work in the past. I've also been indifferent about her work in the past. This is the first book that damn near killed me. Now, you're probably thinking it was the NASCAR stuff that sent me over the edge. No, in fact that was one of the few bright spots. No, it was heroine, whose name should have been Mary Sue.
One thing that's great about romances is that the women are allowed to be real people. They have foibles. They have dreams, hopes, and sometimes they have bad days. They can be nice, understanding or a bitch, depending on what mood you find them in. I tend to gravitate towards heroines who don't need a romance. They don't need the white knight. They'd continute to live life, dream dreams, and take care of themselves even if the hero didn't show up. The hero, the romance, the s-e-x, that's just all gravy to them.
Not Mary Sue. No, she's the kind who when bad things happen runs away or rolls over and dies. She doesn't swear. She bakes animal shaped sugar cookies when the hero has a bad day at the race track (God, I wish I were kidding about this one). She does nothing about the sleazy ex boyfriend who is 1) stalking her 2) obsessed with her and 3) damages her career by selling doctored nude photographs of her. She never talks back to people who treat her like shit (people who say she's "not much to look at" and even her own mother). She's always sweet and kind and just all-around sickening.
Who the heck wants to voluntarily read about this woman? Seriously. I mean, I know I'm a raving bitch - but I kept having fantasies that the hero would run over her with his race car. I'm convinced this makes me a bad person - but hell it makes me human!
Next up is The Burning by Susan Squires. Is it just me or is that one unfortunate title? "Darling we can't have sex tonight, I have The Burning." Ah well, the cover is pretty, and I am looking forward to this one. I rather enjoyed Squires' first vampire novel, The Companion.