This book was a hot mess. The pacing was off, the writing and characters were inconsistent and unrealistic, the romance was weaker than a wet paper bag, and the book was stuffed full of old-fashioned sexism. It I have anything good to say about this book, it’s that the mystery started out with a lot of promise and that I finished the book. I can already tell this is going to devolve into a rant, so let’s hop right in.
Let’s start with the characters. Avery was nauseatingly perfect. She was so physically perfect that it was unbelievable to John Paul that she hadn’t had any work done whatsoever. She was beautiful, intelligent, and had a tragic backstory as the cherry on top of her sundae. In reality, she was impossible to identify with and had no real defining characteristics. Every other word out of her mouth was meant to show that she didn’t enjoy participating in “girly” activities, but in fact preferred running with the guys. John Paul didn’t vary from his stereotype either. He was judgmental and rude, and not in an endearing way. He was never actually fleshed out, and the most we ever find out about him is that he was a marine who was recruited to some kind of special op. Now he lives in a small town in Louisiana and works as a carpenter. I think I literally found of more about him from the previous book in this series when he was a side character. He was so forgettable that at one point Garwood wrote his name as Jean Paul and I had to look back to find more mentions of his name because I thought I had been calling him by the wrong name the whole book. But no. His name is actually John Paul.
And oh my god the pacing. The first twenty-two pages of this book are dedicated to irrelevant exposition. Avery’s past is important to the plot of the story, but the sheer amount of information we are given in the beginning is gratuitous and unnecessary. Within this initial flashback, we are treated to a second flashback in which Carrie, Avery’s aunt, takes us on a long mental anecdote before returning four pages later to answer the question that Avery had asked all those pages ago. All of the attention given to the exposition in the novel was obviously taken from the climax and resolution. The end of the novel was confusing and disappointing. After so much build up we didn’t even get to see one of the murderers get arrested, and the conspirator at the end also gets almost no screen time. Avery and Carrie’s reunion isn’t even mentioned. The pacing also affects the romance in this novel, as Avery and John Paul don’t even meet until page 126, and from there the reader gets to see them together for all of seven days, three of which take place on a three-day road trip that lasts four pages. They spent so little time together that the marriage proposal at the end was almost laughable. At this point they have spent almost no time talking or doing things other than what pertains to the kidnapping/attempted murder. In the last two pages of the novel we suddenly discover that Avery is going to change professions to become a teacher in Bowen, despite her master’s degree and successful career as an FBI analyst, the job we were previously told she wanted since she was ten. The ending was sloppy. It read as though Garwood had a page limit that she suddenly realized she was approaching and had to quickly resolve the book with ten pages left.
Finally we get to the sexism in this novel. Yay! There is so much to unpack here that I’m just going to go chronologically.
On page 318 John Paul ridicules Avery for putting on makeup and questions her about whether it is just to look good for her “FBI buddies.”
On page 320 the chief of police asks John Paul if he’s “sure that little girl’s going to be ok.” We are discussing a twenty-something FBI agent with a master’s degree and a successful career, not a four year old. Barf.
On page 349 Avery wonders if she’s turning into a slut because she wants to have sex with John Paul. I have two thoughts here. One being that somehow, despite John Paul being the one insinuating that he finds Avery attractive and wants to have sex with her, and even though he’s the one that has initiated any intimate contact, Avery is the one who is a slut because she has impure thoughts. Secondly, is literally every one of Garwood’s heroines going to question if she’s turning into a slut because she occasionally experiences hormones? I should make a game of finding the slut comment in each of her novels, and once I do I get to take a shot, because I need it to get through some of these icky moments.
These aren’t really sexist, but on pages 346 and 359 Avery feels the need to say “oh brother” during sex, and on page 359 we discover that Avery shouted “heavens to Betsy” during intercourse. Why??? On page 358 Avery dedicates a paragraph to wondering why John Paul isn’t praising her after they had sex, because I guess that’s something that is normal? And before anyone says it’s because of her history I feel the need to mention that this scene makes its way into almost every single one of her historical romance novels. So this isn’t a one time, circumstantial thing.
On Page 385 John Paul tells Avery that she’s “showing too much skin,” despite wearing sneakers, a t-shirt, and shorts, because his male friend will see her and hit on her.
On page 405 Avery wakes up after having sex with John Paul twice, looks in the mirror, and says, “Hi. My name’s Avery, and I’m a sexaholic.” WTF? This is the third time total they’ve had sex, and somehow Avery is convinced that she’s addicted to sex?
Finally, we get to the female villain in the novel. I can’t help but notice that every female villain that Garwood ever writes sleeps with every male within eyesight and uses her feminine wiles to gain a male’s loyalty and get them to do her dirty work. It’s such an overused trope to vilify sexually available women, and I’m so tired of hearing about the sexually innocent heroine and the promiscuous villain.
My final, last nitpicky thing: can romance authors stop dumping on millennials and gen z? At one point Garwood says that Avery’s teenage waitress has a tongue ring that gives her a speech impediment (as a side note, has Garwood ever met someone with a tongue ring? If so, she probably didn’t realize it, because they don’t affect your speech whatsoever), and I just flashed back to Karen Marie Moning constant harping about the younger generations’ penchant for using cell phones, piercing and tattooing themselves, and having sex prior to marriage. Why can’t they just let it go?
This ended up being about ten times longer than I meant it to be. And this was after I really boiled it down to my top complaints. This was a terrible book, and I think the only reason why I can stomach this series at all is because I initially read them when I was younger and had lower standards, and now for my re-reads I have an irrational, residual fondness that keeps me from throwing them out the window with rage. I do not recommend this book, and if you like this series I would continue it without reading this one. They work well as standalones anyway.