I’m sitting on the bench at the bus stop, immersed in my trashy paranormal romance novel and just getting to the sexy parts, when I register someone sitting down beside me. Lost in the world of a fragile heroine and her muscle-bound werewolf paramour, I don’t bother to look up.
“What are you reading?”
The voice is masculine, warm as melted chocolate with just a hint of a European accent. I glance over to find the guy from the gym smiling at me, and snap the book closed immediately, my face flushing with embarrassment.
“Nothing, really… I mean… it’s trash.” I let him see the cover – a full moon and a man’s naked silhouette underneath it. Damn… I forgot how bad the cover art is. He’s gonna think I’m such a flake.
“You like werewolves?” He’s amused, but doesn’t seem judgmental. “Shapeshifters? You find them attractive?”
“Sure… I guess. It’s silly.”
“Not at all,” he says, shrugging. “I can understand the allure of a man with a little beast inside him.”
Oh, great. He must be gay. “Is that what you find attractive?” I ask hesitantly.
Shooting me a swift glance, he shakes his head. “Oh, no. I’m very much interested in women.”
Amy Valenti is a tarnished tease, and her mind has lived in the gutter since the day she realised what sex was. She hails from England, which she doesn’t find quite as exotic and sexy as the average US citizen seems to, but if people want to compliment her on her accent, that’s all fine with her! Her muses are many, fickle and very demanding.
She has a degree in creative writing and currently works as a proofreader/editor. In her free time, she reads, writes and plays videogames. On the rare occasions she doesn’t have a laptop on her knee, she loves to curl up with friends and pets – and chocolate – for TV show and movie marathons.
Want to get in touch? Email Amy at axvalenti (at) yahoo (dot) com or check out her Facebook or Twitter pages.
So, I have this book on my nook. It is 24 pages long. I stopped on page 11. Why did I stop on page 11? Because it was unbelievable. Unrealistic. Just not—gah!
You see, the main character had known this person for all of ten minutes. He makes out with her, causing her to miss her bus. She then asks him to take her t some nice private place so he can jump her bones. She asks that he do this. Then he tells her he can’t because he’s a shapeshifter. Now, if it weren’t for what happened next, I might have been okay with all this. What happens next, you ask? She takes it at face value. He says: Hey, I’m a shapeshifter. She says: Okay, I believe you. *this next bit is an actual quote* “I don’t know why, but I trust you, Ricardo. I think… I might be in love you with you, even though I’ve only known you for fifteen minutes. Does that sound strange?” YES!!! That sound strange, unrealistic, and it PISSES me off. Now, okay, I am usually cool with insta-love. I understand that there’s only so many pages in a book, and it all must fit, and romance is a big part of YA fiction. Since most of what I read is YA fiction, insta-love is unavoidable. And I understand that since this book has only 24 pages, everything most happen faster. But really? You couldn’t have made I just a teensy bit more realistic? Fifteen minutes. The author even put the words fifteen minutes into tha declaration of insta-love. While one can admire the authors bravado, courage, or audacity, however you may wish to term it, it just does not work. Whoo. Sorry. I had to rant.