Status Updates From Dirty Rotten Love (Rig Bros...
Dirty Rotten Love (Rig Bros #1) by
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juljul
is starting
i just can’t not read a book with the logline “looks like the oil isn’t the only thing getting drilled.” hilarious
— Jul 22, 2026 04:42AM
7 comments
Maro
is on page 137 of 224
It's cute but timeline is confusing me. How long has twunk been at sea by this point? No idea.
— Jul 03, 2026 01:25PM
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Whitney
is starting
I can't take this cover seriously at all. His face and goggles look so stupid. But anyway, I heard this was good. So let's go.
— Jun 14, 2026 06:58PM
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patrícia
is 40% done
I’m completely in love with this book 🫠🫠🫠🫠
“Rory Gallacher has been on my rig for less than two weeks and I am standing on a helipad in the North Sea with the aurora borealis overhead and my hand is still warm from the side of his face and something that I was absolutely certain was buried under nine years of scar tissue has just sat up and looked around.”
— May 26, 2026 09:23AM
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“Rory Gallacher has been on my rig for less than two weeks and I am standing on a helipad in the North Sea with the aurora borealis overhead and my hand is still warm from the side of his face and something that I was absolutely certain was buried under nine years of scar tissue has just sat up and looked around.”
patrícia
is 30% done
🫠🫠🫠🫠 Love Rory
“But that Highlander joke I don’t get is echoing in my skull. There can be only one. And for some reason, I like the sound of it.”
— May 26, 2026 07:19AM
1 comment
“But that Highlander joke I don’t get is echoing in my skull. There can be only one. And for some reason, I like the sound of it.”
patrícia
is 18% done
I cannot believe this book🥵🥵🥵 thank you Sandy 🙌
“The rig hums. The sea roars. The lightbulb above us buzzes in its plastic casing. And it all sounds like a serenade. A purposeful accompaniment to a moment that feels more significant than it should. My chin lifts. My eyes roll back. I’m moaning. My body has taken control, and I’m merely along for the ride.”
— May 26, 2026 12:27AM
2 comments
“The rig hums. The sea roars. The lightbulb above us buzzes in its plastic casing. And it all sounds like a serenade. A purposeful accompaniment to a moment that feels more significant than it should. My chin lifts. My eyes roll back. I’m moaning. My body has taken control, and I’m merely along for the ride.”
