A stroke of luck? After years of taking care of everyone else, Darcy Wolf is set to ditch her good-girl persona, leave good old Milwaukee behind-and indulge herself by: #1: Seducing a hot, willing man #2: Going to a bar alone wearing leather and lace #3: Having sex in public Housepainter Tyler Houston is perfectly happy to assist Darcy with Fantasy #1. His gorgeous smile and hard body seal the deal one steamy afternoon in her bed. But it's Tyler's humor and warmth, never mind his oh-so-sexy brushstrokes, that catch Darcy by surprise. With two more fantasies to fulfill, she can't get beyond #1- Could this short-term indulgence lead to long-term bliss?
Isabel Sharpe began writing in 1994 after leaving her job to raise her son. A former “bored housewife,” she has authored over twenty Harlequin novels and now writes women-focused fiction for Avon/HarperCollins, embracing her unexpected career.
After years of taking care of everyone else, Darcy Wolf is suddenly free to do what she wants. And what she wants is to ditch her good girl persona and indulge in some of her most decadent fantasies. Afterwards she plans to leave her home town and never come back.
Her first fantasy is to have a one night stand with a hot, willing man and her housepainter Tyler Houston seems like the perfect candidate. Their amazing chemistry takes Darcy and Tyler by surprise and suddenly Darcy isn't sure whether she wants fantasy or reality.
This book is pretty much about Darcy and her desire to get out into the world and fulfil all her fantasies. She could easily have come across as annoyingly clueless but instead her determination to find out about herself after years of being tied down seems real and her worry understandable. Tyler was a wonderful hero - strong but with a caring, emotional side. The pair had great chemistry and they scorched the pages as they fulfilled Darcy's fantasies together.
This is really a fun book. It's sexy, funny, sweet and overall a really enjoyable read. 5 stars.
This book was a gift from someone who suggested I read it - and against my better judgement, I accepted. If it weren't for the suggestion, I would've canned this on the merit (or lack thereof) of its stale synopsis: a woman who happens to be woefully whimsical and unapologetically unfulfilled stumbles into the warm, waiting arms of a man who proves to be an unlikely match - and to her horror, a former family friend. A horror all the more horrifying because before having sex with him, she couldn't be bothered to find out his name - or anything else. She's content to name him "Garrett," and she's not the least bit embarrassed to admit doing so to his face.
Beyond that hapless hook-up, the story steers down an sillier spiral as events unfold. It's painfully evident that the author and whomever approved this book mistook "silly" for "seductive" - and everything is further compounded by the fact that these characters seem like caricatures of cognizant people.
I'm not sure if this is a generational thing, but this book isn't too old. It was published in 2008, well into the digital age albeit not quite on the cusp wherein social media was habitually handheld or as advanced. This time also marked measurable, meaningful movements and discussions about interpersonal relationships and gender roles in regards to feminism, rape culture, and consent. This was pre-Girls, but still amidst Gossip Girl.
One would think the author and the publishers (and even readers) would be inclined to heed the harrowing reality of bullying, sexism, and doxing - as opposed to manufacturing a tale less coincidental than convoluted, less sultry than slapstick, that essentially aggrandized the modern myth of anonymity. Not to mention the idealism which makes the intimacy even more implausible: as if you could legitimately fuck one of your workers - the handyman, the plumber, the cable guy, or Sharpe's painter - without risking rejection at best, or a lawsuit at worst.
And, hasn't that been done to death plot-wise as is? How many pornos or romance reads haven't already eroticized the everyman or everywoman? The cop, the babysitter, the neighbor, some muscleman modelling a massive tool belt?
But honestly, given the author's bio - that precludes the story, like every other Harlequin book - I'd by lying if I said I was surprised by this disenchantment. A gander at her written works betrays a banal, bemused idealism wherein every intimacy she writes seems all the more implausible. Like Indulge Me, each synopsis sounds festeringly fictive as opposed to intriguing. Sharpe's idea of idyll is more alien than novel, which is why cut-outs like Tyler and Darcy repulse rather than resonate.
Regarding this book, I've read stories following the set-up Sharpe strove for; stories that characters dignify their desires, flame their fantasies, through making a conscious effort to glorify some goal or to-do list - and thankfully, those stories are superior in their subtlety and sensibility in which they don't overplay words like "indulge" or erratic epithets. After all, we all have fantasies - which is why those stories still sell, why some of those stories are timeless.
Which is why Sharpe would do well to discern between "fantasy" and "delusion." There's no "indulgence" here, just clumsy compulsion and impossible luck. The characters supplant significance for spontaneity amidst corny quips. Darcy isn't driven or desirable. She's sappy and self-conscious. Tyler fares no better as a scorned suitor nursing a broken heart beneath a savior complex. Every supporting character is either a loud or painfully obvious, forgettable figure which speaks to the misguidance of what we're told are our leads.
Best of the Blaze line I have read so far. After years spent caring for a dying father and a recovering-from-injury ex-boyfriend, a young woman attempts to fulfill her fantasy and seduce a stranger--her sexy housepainter. Only, it turns out he is not a stranger after all...oh no...he's a sort-of acquaintance from high school, her new neighbor, and cousin to her best friend's husband Their growing relationship is threatened by her upcoming move as well as a few more fantasies that she'd like to fulfill (but which fall flat without him). There's also a cute sub-plot about her best friend's marriage. This book was surprisingly funny as well as sexy.
This was a lot of fun. The author clearly has a sense of humor and really enjoyed writing this - it was definitely over the top, but she knew it and didn't care. And unlike the last Blaze novel I tried, it billed itself as creatively sexy and succeeded. *g*
The hero was a UWM professor, it was set outside Milwaukee, and that was kind of fun.
originally: How how how did I go from reading nothing last week to reading seven books at a time this week? Especially such disparate books - Little Women and Harlequin Blaze? Heaven help me.
A waste of time--I didn't see how "good" this chick is. She's complaining about taking care of her father and ex-boyfriend when they were in a coma state at the hospital and whining about how all her life she's been so "good." If taking of her father makes her a saint then lord, I must be a sinner for just taking care of my grandparents and not bitch about how dreadful it is to be "good." She even admits to um...the male character forgot his name already that she slept with a guy in college while she was drunk. Wow, you go chick.
Valutazione dell’estratto di Amazon. Dunque, vediamo se mi sono persa qualcosa. Lei accudisce la madre morente per due anni. Poi il padre morente per cinque. Poi lascia il ragazzo di sempre, che tornando a casa ha un incidente e Lei lo accudisce per un anno, poi – finalmente! – lo lascia di nuovo. Infine ammira i “glutei polposi come cocomeri” (non è una metafora mia, ma di Isabel, giuro!) del ragazzo che sta scartavetrando il telaio della sua finestra, pregando che le scartavetri altro. Non ce la posso fare.
While Tyler was hot, and Darcy and Tyler together was equally hot, there was just something about the book that I didn't love. While I can relate to Darcy feeling like she's in a mold and needs to break out of it, I got sick of her repeating how she had to leave town. The people that had put her in the mold in the first place were gone, so she was free to change what she wanted without having to leave town.