Quick Review a la Mode (because numbers are immaterial)
All my reviews contain spoilers. Proceed with caution.
Had I an ounce of self-control, I would prevent myself from delving into convoluted "books" that have as much story to them as McDonald's has nutritional value.
First things first, these are not "books." This is a book of short stories that are loosely connected via the main characters. Now, understand me, short stories in this fashion are largely and universally fine. In fact, they have the potential to form amazing stories a la Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried. However, these stories were sold as books, as the item advertised is a six-book digital box set. Readers, that is false. Each chapter contains its own slice of story, and each story is, again, loosely connected. Do you see the problem with the advertising here?
Speaking of problems, this collection is chock full of them: cardboard characters, deus ex machinas, plot devices, 9th-grade level grammar, dialogue so stilted it puts Barnum and Bailey clowns to shame, and worst of all, an absolutely unbelievable backstory of how the two main characters met and fell in love. In fact, the origins of their meeting rather sickened me. The unnamed male lead, when he was eighteen years old, abducted Jessica White, tied her to a bed in an abandoned building, meant to rape and kill her, and only stopped himself when suddenly she began to speak to him and he saw that she was more than an object and they eventually got married and lived happily ever after fighting crime and solving mysteries in under-the-law schemes.
I'm sorry. Let me read that again. Yes, I know I wrote it. No, it still doesn't make sense.
Backstory (briefly) aside, Jessica and her husband make for lousy characters at all. She constantly talks about that one time he abducted her and then decided to fall in love with her instead of rape and kill her, and he kills people without question, without the authorities ever suspecting him (despite the fact that he and his wife constantly work with the FBI), and without his wife even once asking herself, "Should these sociopathic tendencies have resolved themselves by now, or should I file for a restraining order/divorce?"
I don't know, Jessica; you're the PhD criminal profiler here. You tell me.
Out of everything I could possibly choose to highlight and make note of in the collection, I wish to bring to the table a circumstance that, in even the corniest Chuck Norris 80s film, would still have made me want to punch my fist through the nearest wall in sheer rage.
In the second story, the male lead helps a woman reclaim her daughter from a child trafficker, and the mansion has an area specifically designated for holding the children before auction. A nanny in the bathroom, who is currently taking a bath and wearing a shower cap, begs the male lead not to kill her as she only watched the children and her employer said he would kill her if she ever told the authorities. The male lead relents for a moment, saying she should leave immediately, if that's the truth. She nods vigorously.
Then pulls a .45 Derringer out from under her shower cap.
I showed my brother that paragraph while in a quiet waiting room, and he turned as red as a boiled lobster holding in his laughter. Please, for the sake of sanity, listen carefully: a .45 Derringer is a pistol. Granted, a small one. But it is a double-barreled, .45-firing pistol. Under a shower cap. And it was not noticed while she nodded vigorously and had this pistol under her shower cap as she nodded vigorously, and yes I know that is a run-on sentence, but my brain is attempting to wrap itself around that moment and failing to do so.
As of right now, I honestly can tell you, readers, that I have so much compacted in my mind that would love to grip this collection in its talons and rend it. However, with so much bilge to sift through, it's a wonder I managed to write any sort of review at all.
Taken!, you are, in a word, laughable.