Helpful Score: 9
I bought this book at the urging of Meljean Brooks website. It didnt hurt that the cover was littered with praise by noted romance authors like Mary Jo Putney and Elizabeth Vaughan *and* that the Amazon reviews were GLOWING. However excitement for the next great romance series (not to mention my purchase of book 2 before I even started reading book 1) was perhaps extremely premature. I just cant stand this book. I really wanted to, but it has merely helped me get to sleep for the past week and a half. I begrudgingly open its pages, read for a whole ten pages, and fall into a boredom-induced sleepeven when Im not tired. I refuse to quit reading because I know once I set it down I will not pick it up again, and, worse, I will never pick up its sequel (Scoundrel) which has a small chance of being better than its predecessor. Plus I really dont want to have made this tiring literary journey for nothing, nor do I want to have spent money on two books that appeal to me now simply because the cover of the first is cool and ancient Greek (for the archaeology/ancient history nerd in me) is a plot point in the second.
But at what point should I admit defeat and just put it down for good? After the romance comes together after zero anticipation? After the one-dimensional villains are introduced and continue to be about as interesting (and threatening) as cardboard? After the fantasy plot reveals itself to be pretty banal? After the 23rd time I had to read about Gabriels irresistible He-Man qualitiesso irksome that Id much rather watch the idiocy of GossipGirl than run the risk of stabbing my eyes out in an effort to forever erase from my mind the dramatic fangirl description of our heros every body part. I just cant forgive, or refrain from rolling my eyes during, passages like this on page 230 (and Im editing out the unintentionally funny dirty bits): It was a marvel of perfect shape, perfect for being inside of her, claiming her. Thalia tore her gaze from his erection and looked her fill, all over. He was the essence of Man, a warrior who would possess his woman. And his woman, at that moment, was Thalia.
It was not long after this point when the magic of their lovemaking opened up the magic of the cosmos that I had to stop reading before the romance genre was forever ruined for me. This is the kind of writing that, in my opinion, gives romance a bad name.
Perhaps its not too late to take Scoundrel back to Borders for an exchange. Maybe Ill be in a better mood if I start finally reading The Girl Who Played With Fire. At least the latter will be more romantic and I wont have to read incessantly about the lead heros manly masculinity. Seriously Ive seen more poetry in the description of lust (and lets face it, Thalia and Gabriel are in LUST, not love, at least not yet) from chocolate commercials!
I wish the author had put as much effort into developing her characters as she did into writing about the Mongolian landscape and culture. I really tried to like this novel but I think the experience has merely made me bitter.
But at what point should I admit defeat and just put it down for good? After the romance comes together after zero anticipation? After the one-dimensional villains are introduced and continue to be about as interesting (and threatening) as cardboard? After the fantasy plot reveals itself to be pretty banal? After the 23rd time I had to read about Gabriels irresistible He-Man qualitiesso irksome that Id much rather watch the idiocy of GossipGirl than run the risk of stabbing my eyes out in an effort to forever erase from my mind the dramatic fangirl description of our heros every body part. I just cant forgive, or refrain from rolling my eyes during, passages like this on page 230 (and Im editing out the unintentionally funny dirty bits): It was a marvel of perfect shape, perfect for being inside of her, claiming her. Thalia tore her gaze from his erection and looked her fill, all over. He was the essence of Man, a warrior who would possess his woman. And his woman, at that moment, was Thalia.
It was not long after this point when the magic of their lovemaking opened up the magic of the cosmos that I had to stop reading before the romance genre was forever ruined for me. This is the kind of writing that, in my opinion, gives romance a bad name.
Perhaps its not too late to take Scoundrel back to Borders for an exchange. Maybe Ill be in a better mood if I start finally reading The Girl Who Played With Fire. At least the latter will be more romantic and I wont have to read incessantly about the lead heros manly masculinity. Seriously Ive seen more poetry in the description of lust (and lets face it, Thalia and Gabriel are in LUST, not love, at least not yet) from chocolate commercials!
I wish the author had put as much effort into developing her characters as she did into writing about the Mongolian landscape and culture. I really tried to like this novel but I think the experience has merely made me bitter.
Back to all reviews by this member
Back to all reviews of this book
Back to Book Reviews
Back to Book Details
Back to all reviews of this book
Back to Book Reviews
Back to Book Details
