Thirty-something me has no patience for gutless heroines pining after oblivious idiots.
I still love tropes pining and angst, but first give me a character I can stand to watch pine. Give me someone who isn't afraid of living and going after something she wants and give me a real reason why she should pine in silence instead. Don't give me "for four years she was his doormat and loved every second of it because of his kids."
The rating wavered between one and two stars, but I've read worse. Much worse.
I really liked the story, writing and characters, but in a few weeks or months someone's going to ask me recommendations and I won't remember the title or the author. And that'll be a shame, because most people aren't as jaded about romance genre as I am.
So, if you like the "faking it until it's real"-relationship romances, you should read this.
P.S. A heads up. Come New Year, I'll be walking away from Booklikes. It's become unusable with the browser of my choice (Tor) and I don't feel like just handing my data to faceless entities who don't even pretend to care about people who are generating their income.
You can find me on Twitter if you really want, but there aren't any blogs or other bookish social media sites I update with any regularity. Good luck to you all.
I knew what I was getting myself into when I clicked that buy button and yet I did it anyway.
If you haven't noticed, I've had issues with Lanyon's work ever since I stumbled on an old book that had the characters spouting that reverse racism is a thing. Or something like it. Thing is, Lanyon spins a good yarn, if you ignore the whitey lenses of privilege, and I keep hoping maybe I'm wrong. I'm not.
Yeah, this is a sweet four star novella of two adult men spending a non-explicit night together and possibly finding a new start while waiting for a escaped prisoner to get caught or come after them.
But Lanyon can't leave well enough alone and (s)he has to make a dig about police violence and young unarmed dead persons. Race isn't mentioned, but considering this novella is published in 2016, you have to be willfully blind and/or privileged not to see what (s)he's getting at. Sure, twelve thousand words in a romantic novella isn't going to solve police brutality and racism in America, but Lanyon didn't have to be as dismissive as this:
"'Are you serious? Do you really think the majority of cops approve of shooting unarmed civilians? Of shooting kids? Do you really think guys like me want to see a departmental cover-up?'
In the face of his quiet scorn, I felt a little ashamed. 'No. Of course not.'
'There are some bad actors. We all know it. And there are some guys and gals who would be better cops if they had better training. We all know that too. But most of the men and women I work with are out there cleaning up the human garbage the best they can with the tools they've been given—and putting their live on the line every single day to keep people like you safe to write the truth however you see fit.'"
And then the narrator muses how he was wrong but not completely, and how much he likes his police protector for being able to argue the subject dispassionately. And they agree it's a sore subject for the both of them.
Sore subject indeed.