A Scarlet Bride
by Sylvia McDaniel, historical (2000)
Zebra (Splendor), $4.99, ISBN 0-8217-6478-0
I hate to say this, but this book sucks. I don't know how to say it in any more professional manner, and "this book could have been better" lacks the zing to convey my headache after reading this book. So, apologies to the Guardians of Proper Online Reviewing Ethiquette, but I have to say it. This book sucks.
For one, it is horribly polarized in its double-standards, where the heroine is punished for lying even as the hero gleefully lies and lies and lies some more (and the book celebrates him for it). Lots of misunderstandings, easily solved should the main characters start thinking with their brain instead of their heaving, pulsing genitals, drag on and on. All the bag of tricks in the drawer marked Dead Horse Material - Please Don't Flog and padlocked shut had been pilfered and liberally peppered in this story. Her evil ex, a marriage necessary to keep monies, heroine wanting to please Daddy dearest (how filial!) - pass me the ammonia, someone. I think I'm falling into a boredom-induced coma.
Divorcee Alexandra Thurston writes to write a tell-all book about her perverted, evil ex-husband. She is forced by her father to marry Connor Manning. Since she is such a puke-inducing spineless woman whose existance is to please Daddy - oh daddy oh, are you happy with me now, are you are you huh huh huh? - she agrees. Connor doesn't respect her and think her easy meat, and his attitude persists throughout the book.
Normally I would've at least reacted to this stupid oaf and scream for blood, but I'm too bored to even care this time. Alexandra, Connor, the father, the ex - everyone is so where have we met before type that I am flat out bored. Numb, comatose, and beyond caring, to be exact. Is there anything better on TV?
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