Status Updates From Broken Breath (Rogue Riders...

somehow i didnt dnf
skimmed most of this
ugh

and only bc i hate that i need to know what happens

i fucking hate cliffhangers and the not knowing

i could not care less about any of these characters

Shit blurb.

I think I read a series by this author before and didn’t like it

All that shit at the start of this book to explain this racing
I fucking hate
Didn’t read it all
Already forgot it

Could not care less.

Chapter one was fucking trash and it just continues to be.

Fucking abhor this writing style

Dialogue is terrible.

Already hate this whiny pathetic fmc.

Me está gustando mucho más de lo que pensaba

“My love language is gentle acts of violence.”

I am so down bad. Someone call an ambulance to scoop me off the floor.

Wow. This was. Wow. Love u Mc. 4 stars. This was fun and it did everything right. And there was definitely a spark at times. But I think not dragged out a bit to milk the angst. And it just got a bit stale.

Alaina
Finn moves so fast, my brain doesn’t even register what’s happening until my back hits the cold, grimy tiles, and his body cages mine.
His hands are already on me, calloused palms cupping my face, thumbs skimming my jaw, as his eyes pin me in place like I’m the only thing he can see, and he hasn’t spent days pretending I don’t exist.

Right. His sister is fucking suicidal, and I hurt her feelings.
Like the fucking coward I am.
My throat feels too dry, too tight as I register that. Yeah, I absolutely added to the shit sitting on his shoulders, even if he doesn’t know it yet.
I jolt out of my introspection when I realize Alaina is already two seconds in the green by the next split.

The steady motion of being carried lulls me. I rest my forehead against his shoulder as my eyes drift shut, and I do nothing but exist in his arms.
Every few seconds, a hiccup jerks through my chest, leftovers from the crying and the reasons for the crying.
Luc’s hand rubs slow, steady circles over my back like he’s trying to soothe a wounded animal. Maybe he is.

I’m honorable like that.
“Okay, let me guess. You always wear your hood up because you hate your haircut.”
He flicks his gaze to me, and I have to suppress a smile. I was joking, but it seems like I hit a mark. Reaching over casually, I tug his hood down, letting my fingers glide through the soft, dark mess of his hair.