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299 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 15, 2017
I bought this book from the clearance rack among a slew of createspace-printed gay erotic romances at a Half Price Books because I found the cover particularly haunting. I knew it would be no good, but I also didn't expect it to be so disappointing. In the words of Peter Griffin in Family Guy's Peterotica, "I wish this could be called smut." There's 400 pages or so (there are no page numbers in this book) and there's a grand total of five and a half pages of sex, and all of it is so brief, vague, and quick that it's like reading a bad yaoi manga where everything is whited out and you can't even tell which position they're fornicating in.
I have no idea what this book was supposed to be. It definitely was not centered around the mpreg romance as advertised. Omega Daddy Nick starts off the book with a ten year old son, and isn't pregnant until over halfway through the book. There's no character description for the main characters until you finally learn one of them is blond and the other has brown hair (Who's who? How am I supposed to know?) You know nothing about any of them except for the side character omega coworker who is described as Irish about forty times. There's no delving into the anatomical/logical aspects of mpreg in this novel. At one point there's even a mention that omegas can get their tubes tied. Please, elaborate, we want to know about the butt birthing ovarian(?) tubes. Give us something to work with.
Am I really supposed to be satisfied with two minutes of protected anal sex halfway through where the condom breaks and that's it? That's how it happens? No passionate need for breeding? Not even gonna give us the chastest of dramatic loving butt birth scenes of them holding hands or, like, anything? Give me a break. Or don't, give me something. This book tries to do so much and does nothing at all and doesn't even try to make it make sense. The omegaverse dynamics contradict each other consistently. For some reason Navy SEALs are in the desert. There's Days of Our Lives levels of side-plot drama that didn't need to be there and didn't add up. There is absolutely a time and a place for serious writing and discussion of social justice topics, but I promise you, the time and place is not in what is (falsely) advertised as "An Erotic Mpreg Romance".
And yet, I remain intrigued. What a mess. My curiosity and misplaced hope for any sort of continuity that the other books in this series might make sense flickers dimly. We'll see if another book in this series that's half the size will give me something to sigh about in a dreamy way instead of a depressive way. But considering that it's romanticism of military life, chances are slim.