tl;dr a romance/mystery hybrid that had me cackling the whole way through for all the wrong reasons
This was so, so, so bad. I enjoyed nearly every second of it. It was terrible. I laughed the whole way.
Bookstagram has recommended some of the truly worst romance books that I’ve ever read. I truly, truly, truly have no idea who this is for. I was laughing through most of Love and Monsters, which is not primarily a comedy. (The closest thing to an intentional joke is one of the characters suggesting a Cats watch party, and then saying that it would be perfect; no, “purr-fect”) It’s simply poorly written, poorly characterized, poorly plotted; just really terrible on all accounts.
The writing here is… a lot. For one, the author opts for clunky, overreaching similes that sometimes encroach on the absurd. These are two of my favorites, both coincidentally involving oak trees:
“Tension thick as an ancient oak tree sprung up between the two men.”Thick as an “ancient” oak tree? Real quick, Google how long oak trees live and let me know if that qualifies as “ancient.”
“The way he stood like an oak tree that spontaneously grew next to me, an arm still across my shoulders, with his back straight and chin high… holy shit, Jake was trying to intimidate this guy.” An oak tree that spontaneously grew. Terrifying DnD shit.
The beauty of figurative language is the novel connections you make between two things that exist, and creating an insightful, evocative emotional bridge between them. “As thick as an oak tree” or “As tall as an instantly growing oak tree” do not have this effect. There are other examples, some which are simply too NSFW to mention here. One I’ll point out, though, is the twice-used comparison of Noah’s shapely butt to “globes”, except the first time, they’re “soft globes”, and then the second time, several chapters later, they’re “firm globes”. I had to pause from laughing so hard. The dissonance between the audiobook narrators giving it their all against some of the most awful writing I’ve read was a chasm unfathomably wide.
Then the story: Jake and Noah are co-workers who fall in love in a matter of chapters. Noah, from chapter 1, is unspeakably horny for Jake; literally, from the first few sentences: “He was wearing those khaki pants again. The ones that hugged his bubble butt and bunched up between his legs when he sat. They were the pants that turned me absolutely feral. Like a cat in heat, yowling at anything close by that could potentially f— me.” This made me think there would be some sort of “monster-shifting” involved at some point. Nope, just another clunky simile. It also highlights the foundation of Jake and Noah’s relationship, which is purely (and laughably) physical. It’s incredibly shallow.
So to offset this, we have Jake, who we are told has had a fair amount of heartbreak, and experienced pushback for being bisexual. And also, he has a mother with early-onset Alzheimer’s thrown in. Why? So that Noah can display how supportive of a boyfriend he can be (and so they can bone right after). It’s so artificial, and so bizarre, to throw in an ailing mother character for that precise reason. This is clear because, after they all meet, we never see the mother again.
Speaking of the mother, in one scene Noah has a panic attack, and Jake recalls his mother's words of wisdom: “It’s going to be alright, Noah, I promise. Life never runs in a straight line. Bad times come, but good times follow, and those are sometimes the best of times. My mom used to tell me that all the time." Just the number of TIMES that Jake says "TIME" here is hilarious, and indicative of the author's falling short of how real people speak, but it also doesn't make any sense! I get that "never runs in a straight line" is supposed to mean "ups and downs", but how is saying "good times that follow the bad times are sometimes the best times" going to help someone having threatening animal heads delivered to them??
Oh, right, animal heads. The main driving plot point is a mystery. It’s interruptive and poorly plotted, and the reveal was both obvious and unsatisfying, and yeah, everything about it feels phoned in. The characters make odd decisions (Someone is sending me decapitated animal heads in a box. I know! Let’s stay in a cabin in the woods, and then make love in a hot tub OUTSIDE), but by that point I didn’t hold them against the book.
When I read a terrible romance, my favorite thing is to just let go and see where it takes me. You and I, Rewritten ended its romance early 3/4ths of the way in favor of a tonally jarring, out-of-nowhere subplot. This I Promise You’s tasteless abuse backstory against its 4th grade reading level was unforgettable. Here, Love and Monsters joins this pantheon of awfulness, attempting a mystery-romance hybrid, failing to mesh the two, and creating a delicious dissonance that was a joy to revel in.