If you follow me you have already heard that I started dabbling in audiobooks to accompany me while I go on my daily walks. Memoirs have always been mIf you follow me you have already heard that I started dabbling in audiobooks to accompany me while I go on my daily walks. Memoirs have always been my go-to when it comes to nonfiction reading, so those are what I have tended to pick up in audio as well. This one came to be when I found myself on eternal wait lists for sure to be Pulitzer winners like Paris Hilton and RuPaul's autobiographies and I Googled "funny memoirs." It's probably pretty safe to say I would have not picked this up had it not been for my fellow Redditors, but I'm really glad they steered me in its direction.
Simultaneously hilarious (I mean, just how many things can one guy find shoved up orifices???) to heartbreaking (note this was an OBGYN so there's a solid chance of tears when discussing still births - even for a robot like me). But right when he breaks your heart the next entry is a dry-heave inducing gross out that will have you gag laughing. These journal entries from Dr. Adam as he attempted to make his way up the food chain of the NHO deserve all the Stars....more
I mean WTF was that? I have never heard of Megan Hart before, but thanks for writing under a second name here so I have to remember to avoi
[image]
I mean WTF was that? I have never heard of Megan Hart before, but thanks for writing under a second name here so I have to remember to avoid both of you in the future rather than only one. The big “twist” at the ending (which was guessable at the ¾ mark at max) is what most reviewers will probably be talking about, but I had already been there/done that a couple of years ago with another book that I can’t remember the name of at the current moment and am unwilling to invest any time looking up because it too was a 1 Star.
This entire thing was a convoluted (and predictable) mess featuring an every trope but the kitchen sink that could possibly be contained in a thriller approach to storytelling. Of course you have an unreliable narrator (ACCIDENT ONSET AMENSIA! HOW ORIGINAL! (said no one ever)), a philandering husband, an untrustworthy bestie, gaslighting, an obviously too helpful mother-in-law (*cough (view spoiler)[poison (hide spoiler)] cough*), addition of a third narrator midway through the book, more adultery, and on and on until the absolutely RI.DONK.U.LOUS. ending.
I award you no points, and may god have mercy on your soul. This is my punishment for having an endless supply of FOMO that sends my itchy fingers directly to the library website to download garbage rather than reading the advanced copies I’m lucky enough to receive and getting my NetGalley ratio up to a non-failing grade. ...more
I wanted this one as soon as I saw the cover (#duh) and after being denied an early copy waited very impatiently for publication day. I mean once you tell me poppa was a rolling stone serial killer, it’s pretty much just like . . . .
Vera returns to her childhood home at the request of her dying mother. She’s there to clean it out and prepare for it sale (or to burn it down, if the townsfolk get their way). Vera doesn’t hold out much hope for a reconciliation with her momma, especially since she’s the reason dear old dad’s little hobby was discovered by the police in the first place. What she doesn’t anticipate is the trip down memory lane she’ll go on while staying in her old digs.
This is going to be super short because I want to blab about alllllll of the things and that is not acceptable on a story like this. I just took a peek at the blurb and Just Like Home has been labeled a “gothic” thriller. Maybe I’m just stupid and don’t know what gothic means, but I wouldn’t call it that. I went in blind and started this when thunderstorms were going to be in the area for the duration. The timing couldn’t have been better because this sucker ended up creeping me plum the eff out. It starts slowly (not in a terrible way, the page turnability was present throughout I just didn’t know where it was headed), but once she gets going it is off to the races.
There’s only about a billion and a half reviews out there that are far superior to anything I could possibly barf out, so I’m going to keep this simplThere’s only about a billion and a half reviews out there that are far superior to anything I could possibly barf out, so I’m going to keep this simple. This series pops up occasionally and I always manage to avoid it – mainly because although I read all the time, I generally do not enjoy puppysquishers and try to leave them at an arm’s length. The exception was made this go around due to the fact that it was a four day weekend and I was out of excuses.
In case you don’t know what this is about – it’s about the drug cartel. It starts back in the ‘70s with Mary Jane, takes us through Nancy Reagan “winning” the war on drugs and continues to morph and reinvent itself all the way through the late ‘90s via Mexico, Colombia, California, the East Coast – you name it. There’s about eleventy-twelve characters that you get introduced to from the DEA to the mob to priests and whores to the cartel itself and at some point they all become intertwined. It is an undertaking of epic proportions and you can tell how much research went into creating it on nearly every page.
There’s only a couple things I’m even going to say since I’m so late to this party. First, if you are in need of a sensitivity reader or a trigger warning this is NOT the book for you. Me, on the other hand???? I looked a little something like this upon meeting the Barrera brothers . . . . .
And second, now that I’ve actually read this I’m going to double-down on my statement last year of HOW IN THE FUCK DO PEOPLE GIVE THIS A PASS BUT GOT ALL ASSHURT ABOUT AMERICAN DIRT???? Oh yeah, because they didn’t really care about the issue at hand, they just wanted to whine that they weren’t getting a big enough payday. I do wonder, though, how Winslow has not been offed. I mean homeboy ain’t afraid to drop any names – even big dogs in the government or giant corporations like Monsanto.
Anyway, if you’re intimidated by the vast amount of pages in this and the other two books in the series, know that I feel your pain. Also know that it appears FX is working on turning the whole shebang into a weekly television program which my husband cannot wait to premier. In the interim we rewatched a little Reservoir Dogs to get our blood, gore and F word content this week . . . .
Is anyone here even old enough to get that? Oh wait, Ron’s still around, right?
Here’s the deal, I’m rounding this up but I’m pretty sure it’s only because (1) I’m drunk in the Christmas spirit and (2) I’m somehow managing to forget all of the boring bits where . . . .
Max Brooks is apparently an author who finds a gimmick and sticks with it because the format here is pretty much the exact same as it was in World War Z. (I guess the first go around did score him a blockbuster movie deal so hell if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!) I can only assume it’s because I’m so much more well-read and mature that it worked better for me this time. Oh wait, you probably didn’t already forget I just posted about poop throwing up there did you??? Okay, we’ll just go with I was prepared for it this time. But like I said the sciency bits . . . .
I love when what should theoretically be simple romcoms tackle larger issues as the case was here with the leading lady suffering from chronic pain due to fibromyalgia and the leading male dealing with . . . something else that I’m not going to spoil since it’s not in the blurb. However, authors need to assume their readers aren’t dolts. I felt like I was beaten over the head with reminders about Chloe’s illness to the point where she became nearly intolerable to me – not to mention the fact that her personality was just pretty much intolerable. (And trust that I can get on board with a character who isn’t Mary Sunshine because I loved The Cactus and everyone else hated that poor broad.) So much time was spent in Chloe’s head with her talking about herself that some important issues failed to get explained. Like, maybe her fiancé was a douchecanoe who couldn’t handle marrying someone with a forever type of illness, but seriously ALL of her friends were assholes too? And her family????? (Who, by the way, were ALWAYS there for her whenever she needed them and sat on a wad of dough so she never had to worry about finances either.) It seemed to me like it was Chloe herself who turned into a hermit/thought of her diagnosis as a death sentence because no evidence was given to the contrary. Unfortunately her redemption arc didn’t come until the 70% mark so by then it was too little too late for me to decide I liked her after all.
Obviously the rating was already going to take a hit due to this personality conflict, but I did (and still do) love the premise that Chloe needed to take her life back. And I loved that she was a curvy girl. And I always love some diversity. And I loved Smudge the cat. I didn’t love Red but I didn’t hate him either so that wasn’t the worst. And I was prepared for there to be a bit of steam because I is smort and you can only fool me once with that "a cartoon cover means PG sexytimes" (looking at you The Kiss Quotient). Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut, I was not prepared for this snooty upperclass leading lady to refer to her own bits as the “P Word” incessantly (like when she wasn’t actively engaged in intercourse or foreplay) . . . . .
If you know me, you know I’m not a prude, but I only tolerate that shit in a porno featuring motorcycle gang members or dudes who shift into things like wolves and bears in their spare time. And then when they had their first sexual encounter ON THE GODDAMN SIDEWALK IN FRONT OF A FUCKING PUBLIC STATUE??????
Gather ‘round little weirdos, because boy oh boy do I have a book recommendation for youFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
Gather ‘round little weirdos, because boy oh boy do I have a book recommendation for you! In a season of meh 2 and 3 Star selections, Imma take you on the (sorta) wayback machine to a book I read and failed to review back on my berfday. Allow me to introduce you to a new favorite antihero – Timothy . . . .
Yes please. And not only does Timothy have a decidedly different palate, he also has an eidetic memory on a whole ‘notha level which makes him able to see things that are out of place. This bizarre “superpower” (for lack of a better term) has made Timothy allies with a most unlikely group – the FBI. Brought in as a last resort on their most time sensitive and impossible-to-solve cases, Timothy only requires one thing as payment . . . .
You see, he satisfies his cravings (with the aforementioned inside assistance) via Death Row inmates. They get executed – Timothy gets dinner. Win win situation right there.
And the backstory that explains what made Timothy the Timothy he is today???? Well, that is one that will have all you freaks going . . . .
This first selection in the series focuses on a missing child, an impending deadline for when the ransom is due and Timothy being partnered up with a blast from his past. Not only was this sucker different than anything else, it was also a whipsmart crime novel with a whodunit reveal that had me like . . . .
I read this like two months ago, but I am SUCKING at posting anything lately so I’m just Find all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
I read this like two months ago, but I am SUCKING at posting anything lately so I’m just now getting around to it. Let’s start with the overall GR rating, shall we?
Yeesh. That’s low. Of course that means I loved it. #wrongreader4eva
The story here is a fairly simple one. After being married to Jacob for ages, Lizzie finally had enough one day and offed him. Left with the conundrum of how to dispose of the body in a way that would leave no evidence, Lizzie decided to do the most sensible thing . . . .
The remainder of the book is about Lizzie’s (ever-so-graphic) consumption of Jacob with a side order of . . . .
When I realized that my husband was dead, I also realized I had a chance to live.
Obviously this is not a book for everyone and obviously I kind of love fiction that is a little dark or taboo, which is 100% why I downloaded this from the library as soon as I heard of it. What I didn’t expect was to be presented with a story that was surprisingly an über macabre version of . . . .
This last month, I have had something to do, and I have had love. I am very lucky. It has been perfect.
Full Disclosure: I totally dry-heaved at the eating of the foot. Not only because feet are disgusting when they are attached to living human beings, but because absolutely no detail was spared when it came to the prep work, cooking or ingestion. Consider yourself warned – this is not for the weak stomached so have your barfbags handy....more
This book has received mixed reviews from my friends, but after seeing Debbie's reaction I figured it was worth me rolling the dice. It totally was too and really my only complaint was this was supposed to be a BI.O.GRA.PHY. People who write books like these are only supposed to be telling you about the person they are writing about. They aren’t supposed to show their obvious raging boner of a crush on their subject or interject their own sob story into the mix. Me no likey that bit.
Now on to the part I can see being a peeve for many others. Most of the trips on the way-back machine to Sandra Pankhurst’s history can be reacted to like such . . . .
Her memory fails her in many of the places where it counts the most which makes her a very unreliable narrator for the remainder. It also makes non-fiction read like fiction which is waaaaaaaaaaaaay beneficial to achieving a high score on the Kelly and Mitchell entertainment scale. Really, the only issue I have with the way Pankhurst’s history is presented is that a certain type of people (who wouldn’t ever even read this book to begin with, but certainly would have no problem bashing it) will use it to say that gender identity is a mental disorder brought on by a person’s upbringing – and that makes me barf. But fuck those people, right?
The other thing I kept thinking while reading was “why didn’t James Frey do this when he wrote his “memoir”?????” Remember James Frey and his million little pieces that made Oprah all . . . .
EDIT: Because it was this book's birthday yesterday and when a book finally gets releasedFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
EDIT: Because it was this book's birthday yesterday and when a book finally gets released that will EASILY make your Best of 2018 list, you float it . . . .
Perhaps the most ironic thing of all when it comes to this author is his name. If you were ever curious where the “Black As Mitchell’s Heart” moniker came from – David Joy’s stories are about as bleak as one brain could ever conjure. As my Bookwife stated over on her review, we pretty much have a Google Alert set for anything new in David Joy’s world, up to and including I now read what he tells me to (thanks again for turning me on to Larry Brown). We most definitely were in full-fledged “This Is America and We Want It Now” mode while waiting to be approved for The Line That Held Us and I am so happy to say that once again David Joy delivered the misery in spades – just the way I like it.
The story here is pretty simple – Darl Moody has been chasing after a dream buck for ages and has tracked him down to Coon Coward’s private property. What ol’ Coon don’t know won’t hurt him, though, so Darl waits until he’s out of town and sets about in the wee hours to do some poaching. The only thing he wasn’t expecting? Carol Brewer to be doing some poaching of his own – digging ginseng to be exact. Rather than face the crazy which is Carol's brother Dwayne, Darl does the only other thing he can think of – enlist his best friend Calvin’s help and bury the body . . . .
That might possibly be the best thing about David Joy’s books. You know there is not going to be a happy ending or that the characters will magically escape the superbadawful they have set themselves up for. I love how his stories are all different, but touch on similar themes of love, loyalty, family, friendship and religion (in the most shuddery way possible). He blurs the lines between what is right and what is wrong effortlessly. Not to mention, he really makes you feel like you are truly in the heart of the south . . . .
Caitlin Hendrix’s childhood was almost ruined by a serial killer. Her father was the lead detective on the case that featured . . . .
“Eleven murders, all unsolved. An UNSUB: the unknown subject who would come to be called the Prophet. He made women stay home instead of going out alone. He made parents bring their children in before it got dark, and keep them inside. For five years, one of the biggest metropolitan areas in the country lived in fear, dreading the next news bulletin. Waiting for the Prophet’s next victim. Until he disappeared.”
Caitlin’s father nearly lost his sanity as he was consumed by it. Now it’s twenty-five years later and Caitlin has followed in her father’s footsteps when it comes to her choice of career. Maybe more than even she bargained for . . . .
“All these years you thought I was gone. But hell and heaven turn and turn again. Angels fall, the messenger descends, your insolence is harrowed, defiance ends. You wail in fury, but the Equinox delivers pain. It batters like a hurricane. Tremble now—you cannot hide.”
This was a mixed bag when it came to friends' ratings so it kept getting pushed to the backburner. As you can see from my placeholder "review," the only thing that forced me into it was the library message which was the equivalent of a triple-dog dare. When it comes to mysteries, there are two types that I enjoy. These . . . .
[image]
(So much so that I call it the “S7ven Scale”)
I will say I was a bit leery at the start when an “amateur sleuth” of sorts was introduced since this story obviously wasn’t trying to go in the Hallmark Mystery Channel direction. Luckily said sleuth wasn’t immediately deputized, but she did provide believable info that many people with too much spare time on their hands might find themselves trying to obtain so I quickly accepted her character. UNSUB lands at a solid 4 on the S7ven scale and was well on the way to a full 5 until the ending. Those endings – they can be tricky. You can either do a “WHAT’S IN THE BOX” last minute twist that makes everything oh so much better or you can do one like this . . . .
Still, a great story that I never once wanted to put down.
And now for a couple of public service announcements rants since I’m suffering a severe Case of the Mondays:
#1 Dear Goodreads: NO ONE wants a book automatically marked as “read” as soon as they turn the last page or the library takes it back. NO ONE. Stop the effing madness. Especially when it said I finished reading this THIS MORNING and the entire point of me even getting motivated to read the dang blasted thing was I only had Saturday, the 2nd, in which to start AND finish it . . . .
#2 Random Strangers on Social Media: It is December and several different “bookish” places are posting statuses (statii????) about Yearly Reading Challenges along with the magical goal of 100 books. NO ONE forces you to participate in them or that 100 books is a mandatory challenge goal, so take your “but I have a life” or “but I work all day and then am superparent to my minivan full of children and don’t have time to sit around doing nothing but read” and . . . .
Just because YOU don’t want to spend your spare time reading or participate in a challenge for fun doesn’t mean you need to put others who do on blast. You’re probably the first to rant about being “bullied” on social media too. Hypocrites. And on that note, this is my 200th book of the year. Challenge complete . . . .
The Fourth Monkey popped up on my radar months ago after a friend 5-Starred it. However, Find all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
The Fourth Monkey popped up on my radar months ago after a friend 5-Starred it. However, due to the fact that I’m well aware that my friends are much kinder and way less judgey than me, I didn’t bother requesting an ARC. Then more 5s started appearing, including one from a certain someone who is judgey like me . . . but who also has a well-known love for evil monkeys so I still wasn’t 100% sold. It was also too late to request a reader copy so I had to put myself on hold at the library. It seemed another friend was doling out alllllllll the Stars daily by the time my turn came up Saturday night . . . .
Detectives Porter and Nash have been working the “Four Monkey Killer” case for the past five years ever since the first white package was delivered. Those packages have arrived fairly regularly ever since . . . .
Well, seven really, but the whole story here is finding the eighth before she croaks since the perp can’t really tell anyone where she’s being held.
This thing was just flat out awesome. I’m a hard sell when it comes to thrillers, because they ALWAYS crap the bed somehow. And while this one wasn’t exactly perfect when it came to the big reveal (if you want to talk in spoilers in the comments below, I’m more than happy to because maybe I just missed something), in the end it didn’t really matter.
The brutality of the murders was deliciously squicky. And while there was an obvious comparison to “What’s In The Box?!?!?!?!,” the fact that it was acknowledged made it all A-Okay . . . .
“Open it up, Nash.”
“Maybe we should flip for it. I had to open the last one.”
“No, I insist. I saw Seven – if Gwyneth’s head is in there, the image will be stuck in my mind for months. This is all you. Be a man.”
^^^Great, right? Which brings me to the humorous undertone that was present throughout . . . .
“Are you escaping?”
“What?”
“You’re wearing scrubs and you look a little rough to be on staff.”
“No, nothing like that. [SPOILER OMMITTED] stabbed me in the leg with a kitchen knife, then left me for dead in my kitchen. I couldn’t find my clothes, so I took these.”
“Smart-ass.”
Porter and Nash were excellent leads, but the real magic came from the surrounding cast of characters. Especially Kloz, the computer programmer turned detective who wasn’t afraid to engage in some questionable activity in order to find what he was looking for.
Not to mention the clues that were presented were so minor, and yet all made such sense in the end . . . .
“Some change, a dry cleaner receipt, a fedora, the pocket watch . . . . what does it all mean?”
“Puzzle it out.”
Oh, and it’s not what you might be thinking . . . .
I’m not a girl who likes a kitchen sink thrown in to the mix at the end of a whodunit, but even an exception for that has to be made here because dat lil’ summin’ summin’ more?????
Ha! Just kidding. There’s apparently even a limit to how weird I like ‘em. However, just in case you think Mitchell and I are slipping, please note that this title was added to the TBR once we discovered it was about a necrophile, which is basically our literary equivalent to . . . .
As I said before, the story here is about a man named Lester Ballard . . . .
“A child of God much like yourself perhaps.”
^ That simple little phrase might end up being one of the most thought-provoking ones I’ll ever read.
Much like other experiences with Cormac McCarthy, we readers are kind of plunked down in the middle of the goings on. With right at 200 pages, you don’t get a lot of Lester’s history. You know his mother left when he was a boy and that his father hung himself. Child of God picks up as Lester’s family home is being auctioned off – complete with the old noose still swinging in the background. To say things go downhill for Lester from there would be the understatement of the century because by Part II . . . .
The more you get into the story, the more you get acquainted with Lester’s neighbor, the dumpkeeper, and his bevy of female children and you get to meet some of Lester’s gal pals as well. Let’s just leave it with those girls are . . . .
If you don’t enjoy McCarthy’s style of writing, the shock and awe factor won’t be enough to turn you into a fan because it is still sparse and he is still allergic to quotation marks. Really, even if you do enjoy McCarthy’s style of writing, the sheer amount of shock and awe factor contained in this one might turn your stomach and turn you away from picking up his stuff in the future. As for me? I have to say McCarthy did a pretty freaking stellar job writing Lester Ballard, since I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him at times. I'm also haunted by the question that begs to be answered – was the man born a monster or was it man who turned him into a monster?
I’d normally be inclined to give this one 3 Stars but I’m going ahead and rounding it up to 4 simply for the fact that McCarthy is so ready to embrace the muses and go wherever they lead him – no matter how vile the subject matter. ...more
“Chimaera. According to Webster’s, the word is based on a creature of mythology, an amalgam of different species in one terrifying beast. Or, in the current vernacular, one ugly fucker.”
The story here is about a surfer-dude-looking, wise-cracking, functioning alcoholic/marine biologist named Whit who ends up partnered with his climatologist ex-wife Suzanne when a methane-filled fissure under the ocean gives way, releasing a shitton of prehistoric mammoth-sized chimaera from its depths. It’s up to the two to (1) survive and (2) come up with a way to send these killers back to the hell from whence they came.
The couple of my friends who have read They Rise both gave it a 3 Star rating. To them I ask . . . .
Just kidding. I’m giving it all 5 because it ended up being EXACTLY what I hoped it would be. Even though some soon-to-be-chum character dared to say . . . .
“This is not a B-movie, Suzanne.”
That dumbshit was 100% wrong. This was ABSOLUTELY a B-movie and that’s why I loved it. They Rise had everything you could ever want in a cheesy horror flick book:
1. Monsters from the deep
2. Sexy leading characters with a love/hate history
3. Awesome one-liner type of humor such as:
“ “If we survive this, I’m calling you Dr. Jones from now on.” “But I’m not afraid of snakes.”
4. High body count with plenty of guts and gore as well as some decent shock and awe like in . . . .
The only thing that could have made things better would have been if someone told me I could eat a unicorn fart. And then I discovered I could eat a unicorn fart!!!!!!
This sumbitch was an absolute delight and made my day exponentially more enjoyable. Endless thanks to Dan for using his lending feature in order to put this gem in my reading repertoire . . . . .
If you’re looking forward to a rant to go along with this rating, you’re going to have toFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
If you’re looking forward to a rant to go along with this rating, you’re going to have to look elsewhere. Let me state for the record that I am a firm believer that porn is 100% fantasy and if a certain type of storyline works out for you (or even better for both you and your significant other), well then you should read whatever the hell you want. That being said, now that I’ve read a handful of Alexa Riley novellas as well as this full-length feature I can officially state that AR’s fantasies are not mine.
To begin with, this is about a stalker who gets the girl. Now, I have totally loved a story like that before, but it didn’t make me wanna jizz in my pants. It made me think that I probably should create a GoFundMe page in order to get the psychiatric help I obviously need. Buuuuuuuuuuuut, when the leading dude’s name is Miles and he looks like this . . .
It’s apparently A-Okay to want to bang him even if he’s a creepy mah fah who has been the puppetmaster of your life since you were back in high school. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t get on board and kept hollering stuff like this at my Kindle . . . .
I don’t want to waste a whole lot more of my life on this book, so let’s run through the tired out tropes that Riley can’t get enough of real quick. Dude’s not only a super creeper, but also a millionaire. This time he owns a company called “Osbourne Corporation” and if that isn’t a clue he’s going to be kind of fucked in the head, than you haven’t watched enough Spiderman movies . . . .
The leading lady has curves in all the right places and enjoys fancy underwears because they give her “the sense of being a superhero.” Ahhhhh yes, much like my underpants do for me . . . .
She’s a virgin, she rarely sits in her own chair because his lap is so readily available and they also conserve water by only eating off one plate/using one fork at any time (and OF COURSE he feeds her because her arms must be broken or something) which are things that make me go . . . .
If this is your idea of a fantasy, more power to you, but it dried my ladygarden out like the mothereffing Sahara so I think it’s about time I call it quits when it comes to Alexa Riley. To all my friends who love her stories . . . .
EDIT: Because I literally JUST typed I was breaking up with AR and then discovered Paige's story might be the next book and YES I WILL TOTALLY READ THAT BECAUSE AM A SHAMELESS WHORE : (...more
“Nothing’s wrong with being bad. It’s like being honest or crying at the end of a sad Find all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
“Nothing’s wrong with being bad. It’s like being honest or crying at the end of a sad movie. Sometimes it just happens.”
I was attempting to avoid human contact yesterday by reading this on the elevator on the way to work when a co-worker (one of the few I don’t want to punch in the throat and one who is an avid reader as well) asked what was I reading. Of course, the title wasn’t enough info for her and I found myself stumped at what Delicate Monsters should be shelved as. I couldn’t really call it anything other than Young Adult, but even uttering those words had me thinking . . . .
That’s what I was thinking too. Especially when I was introduced to Emerson who knew Sadie from when he was a kid and appeared to be more than a bit shell-shocked when he heard she was back in town. But then I got to know Emerson better . . . .
I also got to meet his brother Miles and his mother who had been accused of Munchausen by Proxy and Sadie’s mother and by the time I was done I wanted to call the author on the phone in order to ask . . . .
I’m going on record and saying I recommend this to NO ONE. Wait, that’s a lie. I recommended it to one person already (bet you’ll never guess who). She’s the only exception, though, because . . . . .
This book has everything you’d never want to read about: mean girls and bullying to the point of attempted suicide, actual suicide, mental illness, sexual assault, and on and on and on. I’m not going to be responsible for anyone getting triggered, so don’t read it. As for me and Mitchell? This was our idea of a good time. But we also know how to tackle books like this . . . .
If you're asking yourself "where does she find shit like this?!?!?!?!" the answer this time is the 100 Must-Read Books With Unlikeable Women (or in this case "Unlikeable Everyones"). I've already had much luck with many on that list and I will definitely keep reading more of these in the future.
“I’d stay out of those woods if I were you. There’s something out there, and I can telFind all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
“I’d stay out of those woods if I were you. There’s something out there, and I can tell you it’s not a cougar or any of the nonsense the police keep trying to sell.”
Such is the case when Jude goes missing after exploring the woods behind his house in Oregon only to show up several days later without being able to provide many answers as to where he’s been. As Jude’s behavior becomes more odd, only his cousin Stevie questions what really happened to him while he was gone . . . .
“Something was wrong with Jude. Really really wrong.”
I was all over The Devil Crept In like stink on shit as soon as I saw it due to my previous Ania Ahlborn experience. However, since I’m a moron I failed to review it after I finished until 11811(Eleven)’s review jogged my memory. Do you know Eleven? You should. Mainly because he looks like he could do . . . .
But I digress. Once I finished cleaning up after peeing myself over my friend's opening line about his potential for fathering an heir like Otto I started yakking this little bit of nothing out.
As I said, I snatched this up as quickly as my fat little fingers could pretty much knowing that . . . .
[image]
(^^^^That’s middle-aged white man speak for “DIS GUN B GUUD”)
My assumption was correct. Ahlborn spins a good yarn and I was forced to read this only when other humans were present in my house due to the fact that . . . .
The entire story delivered that goosepimply, hair-raised-on-the-back-of-your-neck uneasiness. This author has definitely earned herself a fan and I will be seeking out more of her stuff in the future . . . . but I’ll make sure to only admire her from afar as Eleven has already claimed her as his celebrity crush.
ARC provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you, NetGalley! ...more
(A request before I begin, if you will humor me for a moment. If you’re gonna troll me for reading this wrong at least come up with a quotable quote my friends can berate me with for eternity. I’m looking at you, “You Suck Turtles” lady – you done good.)
Now on with the show. In case you aren’t already aware, I are quite horrible . . . .
I truly don’t intend to be contrary to popular opinion and, believe it or not, often go with the flow and fall right in line with the masses when it comes to reading things rightly or wrongly. This time, however? I am forced to go against even my fave lil’ witch. I was secretly hoping for this kind of reaction to the news that I downstarred one of her recommendations . . .
If only so I could throw the nervous pisser dog at her and lock the door pronto, but alas she is not of the butthurt variety and didn’t even get annoyed. (She is obviously turrrrrrible at this interweb thing and should probably read the handbook on how to act a dumbass.)
Alright, so about this book I didn’t like. Trapped is the story of a camping trip from hell. A group of six juvies and their court-appointed guardians have gone to be one with nature and experience some group therapy. It doesn’t take long before you find out the kids ain’t alright . . . .
So what was my problem? Well, the author decided to (1) give these future murder victims backstories which I could have given a shit about (I mean really, does anyone care about the home lives of people in films like I Know What You Did Last Summer or Wrong Turn???? Hell no, we just want to see them get the stabby stabby); and (2) he made them all speak ebonics. Now, I am not one who minds reading slang or accents, but this was obviously the whitest human in America (aside from Richard Spencer, of course) who was trying to be real “down” with how the urban youths speak today. And it was super annoying.
Anyway, everyone else loved this so read it. You’ll probably like it just like all my friends did. Don't want to roll the dice, but still want to read about a camping trip you'll never forget (without years of psychotherapy that is)???? Opt for The Troop....more
Okay, this was definitely not the book for me. I asked Jesus to take the wheel and write a review, but he told me he was too wrapped up in the Melania plagiarism scandal from last night’s Republican Convention (#votecthulhu) so I should just go eff myself. Lucky for all of you Mitchell volunteered as tribute. (Allow me to apologize for what you are about to read in advance.)
Her day gets worse when she’s roofied (or whatever the street name is in dystopia) and followed by a creeper who wants to make the sexyslavetimes with her. Lucky for everyone Jasper and his band of brothers from The Broken Circle arrive just in time to save the day and take her back to Old Town errrr Sector 4. It’s there, under the watchful eye of Lex . . .
(Do not even think about getting angry about me “slut shaming” – Noelle was an awesome slut and I loved her. I also sharpened my tusks so watch out crybabies.)
/endMitchellreview
Alright, so there you have it. Here’s the problem(s) I had. This book was supposed to be all about consent and how the women were in charge and learning to embrace your smexy side and blahblahblah. HOWEVER, bitch clearly didn’t know anything at all about sex and “consenting” only to feel humiliated and nasty about yourself isn’t really doing it right. Now I realize these books should only be read by adults, but I fear the stoopids will get ahold of stuff like this and be even more confused about what is taking ownership of your naughtybits. Not to mention that the sex, although there was a TON of it, really wasn’t very sexy. The dirty talk and whatnot didn’t bother me in the least this go ‘round, it just seemed to . . . . . go off track (????) with the explaining to dumbass Noelle about the how-tos and also she passed out every time she made an O-face so that was a little off and she probably should have seen a doctor about it. I don’t know if I’ll ever give this series another chance, but I will admit I’m intrigued by Six’s story so if she has a book I might sneak a peek one day.
It was actually commentary between this pervert and this pervert that made me request Beyond Shame. Mitchell is now officially in love with you girls. Best get a restraining order pronto!
Kelly (and the Book Boar)
>
Books:
ewwwww
(51)
Loading...
