I have a relatively high tolerance in terms of DNF-ing books. No matter how shitty it gets, I try to stick it out so I could give it a decided rating and review by the end.
I don't think I've ever wanted to DNF a book as short as this one. Not even its length could be counted as a blessing as it only served to highlight how bad this was because it felt a lot like 400 instead of 48 kindle pages.
Demi Shepherd is a break-up artist. As in she gets hired to by people to break-up with their fiancees, spouses, boy/girlfriends, wives, husbands, etc. Things get complicated when the man who hired her to break-up with his fiancee ended up dead in her hotel room and $50,000 ending up mysteriously in her bank account. From working with a ridiculous job title to becoming the lead suspect in a murder, Demi realizes the frame-up job on her goes deeper than it appears as she finds herself of the run from money laundering dirty cops with the help of the inexplicably hot and mysterious Jack.
I'm not going to try and pretend there's any redemptive value to this book so I'm just going to start posting my questions about this story:
Question 1: Why does this job exist? Whatever economic shakedown happened that prevents douchebags from good old break-up through text? Or email? I feel Taylor Swift wants to know as well.
Question 2: How difficult is it to relay to someone that he/she is getting dumped that it would require a mentorship program? Because Demi has a mentor whose help she sought while trying to escape. The poor woman got scarred and burned by someone who went batshitty batty upon receiving the news.
Question 3: This quote from a disgruntled dumped:
"You know after Heather had you break up with me, I started drinking," Gary stopped a few feet away, expression hardened, eyes on fire. "I lost my job. My house. Everything. She even took the kids. All because of you."
I'm confused. When I requested this book I thought Demi's role as a Break Up Artist is to scheme a ruse with her client that will force the client's spouse to dump him or her. Instead, her job really is just like a messenger of sorts. So my question is: Did the human race get infected by some virus that renders them stupid and illogical, hiring people to break up for them and in return, the dumped blames the Break Up Artist and not the dumper? Because I can totally get onboard with that.
Question 4: Did we really need to name the fucking purse when we can't even keep track of the characters' whereabouts? Seriously, there was one scene where she's watching her apartment on TV, the next scene she's in front of the apartment as if she teleported there.
You know what? I think I figured it out. I think this is a sci-fi/dystopian book.
It just hasn't realised it yet.
I'm gonna give it a bit of time, let it have its existential crisis.
Review Copy provided by the publishers thru Netgalley.