Ugly Love

Ugly Love

by Colleen Hoover

Blurb:

When Tate Collins meets airline pilot Miles Archer, she knows it isn’t love at first sight. They wouldn’t even go so far as to consider themselves friends. The only thing Tate and Miles have in common is an undeniable mutual attraction. Once their desires are out in the open, they realize they have the perfect set-up. He doesn’t want love, she doesn’t have time for love, so that just leaves the sex. Their arrangement could be surprisingly seamless, as long as Tate can stick to the only two rules Miles has for her.

Never ask about the past.

Don’t expect a future.

They think they can handle it, but realize almost immediately they can’t handle it at all.

Hearts get infiltrated.

Promises get broken.

Rules get shattered.

Love gets ugly.

My Reaction (with a slight spoiler):

This was a shared read with Donald.  Why?  Because 372 Pages We'll Never Get Back chose it for the podcast.  (And I hope—and believe—that they feel truly sorry for what they've done, this time.)

Years ago, I didn't mind a good romance—and maybe I could be interested in reading romance again, at some point—but this particular kind of romance novel has never and will never be for me.  It's even worse when you're reading it aloud.  You really experience that weapons-grade cringe when you're saying it out loud.  Of course, I didn't actually speak much of it aloud: I made the executive decision to skim over large sections of this book, summarizing as I went, and I'm not even sorry.  It was an essential survival mechanism at work.

Well, I mean, what is there to say about this book?  I hated it and the characters in it.  Miles is a creep and Tate is pathetic.  The two of them together gross me out.  Very little of any interest happens, to the point that a brief description of shopping for curtains and a rug was a high point in the novel.  And boy, is it ever brief!  They literally walk to the store, choose the first things they see in the window, then turn around and leave again.  We're denied even the pleasure of vicarious browsing and comparing a few different options.  Given the choice between an in-depth description of actual shopping and yet another scene of these two "bumping uglies"—to quote Cap—trust me, I would have loved to have read an awkward squabble over curtain fabric, colors, etc., but it wasn't to be.

Again, Tate is infuriatingly weak, Miles acts like such an utter POS jerk (his tragic backstory is no excuse for using Tate and treating her like crap), and a few scenes seemed borderline abusive and were very uncomfortable to read.  Not just the painful sex scenes, either.  The roof-top pool scene where he's following her around and pinning her against the side of the pool gave me chills.  His actions felt almost threatening to me.  He felt more like a potential serial killer than an attentive lover.  (Also, is it just me, or isn't it kind of odd that this guy who's so traumatized by something that involved water would suggest they go swimming?  It just feels strange and unrealistic to me.)

Then there's the center justification thing, which was annoying, too, of course.  

So no, this wasn't a good read for me.  I really disliked this book. Still not as bad as Shadow Moon, though.  That's probably the worst thing I've ever read.

A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home

A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home

by Jason Arnopp

Blurb:

"Dear friend,

This is no chain letter, hoax or prank.

It is a sincere warning about your home and the entity which dwells within.

Your home has been haunted for quite some time.

I am sorry that I could not personally deliver this document. I did not even post it myself. The postmark on the envelope will not help you, should you ever attempt to locate me.

When this letter is complete, I shall entrust a friend in another country with repackaging and sending it on my behalf. This letter also may or may not have been translated from its original language.

You do not know me. You must never know me.

Neither do I know you, beyond your name, address and appearance. I have seen you in person but you have not seen me.

Think back to the day that you moved into your home. I contrived to casually pass by as you stood outside. I saw your face, but you did not so much as glance my way. I did not stop walking. I simply committed your face to memory and moved on before you became aware of my presence.

Why did I want to see you?

I suppose my conscience drove me to it. Just as it compels me to finally write this letter.

I wanted to see exactly who I was passing the entity on to."

My Reaction:

Depending on your perspective, this is either a long short story or a short novella.  I saw it recommended somewhere as a good creepy tale and was intrigued by the premise.  The idea is that you've received a large envelope in the mail, with no way to trace it back to its source.  Inside is a letter from the previous occupant of the home into which you've just moved—but instead of wishing you happiness in their much-loved former home, or letting you know that there's a trick to one of the window latches, or even asking to come around and revisit the house they grew up in—though that alone would be worthy of a shudder—they're warning you about a dangerous entity attached to the house—one that they're certain you will encounter soon, if you haven't already.  

It's a great idea for a story!  I didn't personally find it quite as creepy as some readers have.  If I'd read it alone at night, in an empty house, it might have felt a bit more disturbing.  However, I did read part of it in the wee hours after waking and being unable to get back to sleep, and even then I don't think I felt many chills.  (I've lived in this house for over 20 years, and we had it built ourselves, so maybe that has something to do with it.)  

Still, it's an interesting premise, so I'll give some points for that!

The Only One Left

The Only One Left

by Riley Sager

(Really Long) Blurb:

At seventeen, Lenora Hope

Hung her sister with a rope

Now reduced to a schoolyard chant, the Hope family murders shocked the Maine coast one bloody night in 1929. While most people assume seventeen-year-old Lenora was responsible, the police were never able to prove it. Other than her denial after the killings, she has never spoken publicly about that night, nor has she set foot outside Hope’s End, the cliffside mansion where the massacre occurred.

Stabbed her father with a knife

Took her mother’s happy life

It’s now 1983, and home-health aide Kit McDeere arrives at a decaying Hope’s End to care for Lenora after her previous nurse fled in the middle of the night. In her seventies and confined to a wheelchair, Lenora was rendered mute by a series of strokes and can only communicate with Kit by tapping out sentences on an old typewriter. One night, Lenora uses it to make a tantalizing offer—I want to tell you everything.

“It wasn’t me,” Lenora said

But she’s the only one not dead

As Kit helps Lenora write about the events leading to the Hope family massacre, it becomes clear there’s more to the tale than people know. But when new details about her predecessor’s departure come to light, Kit starts to suspect Lenora might not be telling the complete truth—and that the seemingly harmless woman in her care could be far more dangerous than she first thought.

My Reaction:

I was really into this in the early chapters.  It was checking all the boxes for a fun, old-fashioned murder-mystery thriller.  I loved the setting.  Early 80s?  Yes, take me back to the nostalgia-rich aesthetic and music of my childhood!  A once grand but now decaying mansion perched dramatically on the edge of a cliff? Sounds amazing.  A small cast of characters in (relative) isolation and a mystery to untangle?  That's the good stuff!  

After finding Children of the Sun such a long, repetitive, frustrating slog of a read, this felt like it cracked along at a good pace.  I actually looked forward to reading more!  (What a novelty!)   Yes, I had some quibbles here and there (and there was an recurring element involving serious illness that was crucial to the plot yet still not a topic I want to read about), but overall, it was fun.  

The story started to drag after a while, and I could sense that I wasn't going to love the ending.  And then the ending came, and I was proven right.  That ending.  Phew.  I've read books by this author before, but my memory being what it is, thrillers all tend to blur together, so I don't know if all his books are like this, but, man, based on this book alone, the guy must love himself a twist.  I mean, I like a good twist, myself, and I understand the pressure on authors today to provide something unexpected, but I think this author may be unhealthily addicted to twists—so much so that the end of this book felt like one twist too many.  

See, here's the thing:  The actions of the characters kind of need to make sense.  Well, they need to make sense for me to truly enjoy the book, that is.  And this one... Eh, there are some things that just don't add up.  A lot of that you can just shrug and choose to let go.  (Don't think so hard!  This is supposed to be fun! It's a mystery novel, not a history textbook!) But sometimes authors simply push too far, ask us to turn off our brains a little too much, and thereby spoil the book. So while I did enjoy reading the earlier parts of this book, I have to knock off some stars for the sheer nope-don't-believe-it-ness of the story.  

I'd recommend it to people who don't care too much about maintaining some semblance of realism in their reading.  I don't regret reading this, but it did go too far with the twists, in my opinion, and unfortunately that made it a less satisfying read.  

Want to know about the too-far twist?  Don't mind spoilers?  Ok, don't say I didn't warn you...

SPOILERS 

WILL

FOLLOW:

Ok.  Well, there are other reviews that list all the many, many quibbles I had with the book, so I guess I needn't go into too much detail here.  Some of the twists didn't make total sense to me—If I recall correctly, Jessie just (temporarily) abandoned her recently discovered grandmother in a house that was about to literally fall into the sea, where her friend had recently been murdered?—but whatever.  I'll let it go.  

The one that was just a bridge too far was the final reveal that Virginia has been faking her paralysis for decades.  (I think I got that right.  It was decades, correct?)  At some point she realizes that she can move and speak, but rather than letting anyone know, she keeps it a secret (from even her best friend who sacrificed everything to stay at her side), rehabilitates herself without any assistance, and pretends to be unable to move anything but her left hand. (No-one notices that her withered limbs are gaining muscle, so just put that thought right out of your pretty little head.) Yes, that means she has to sit perfectly still all day, every day and stay captive indoors when she just wants to go outside.  Yes, that means she has to eat food that sounds absolutely revolting—soft, mushy stuff with pills crushed into it.  (Have you ever tried to take even a simple pain reliever crushed into a spoonful of jam?  It's disgusting.  I can only hope that Virginia's meds were magically flavorless, but I doubt it!) And yes, pretending to be nearly completely paralyzed means she must wear adult diapers, with everything that goes along with that.  She's apparently fine with it!  Personally, I think that part of the book is insulting to people who actually are paralyzed or otherwise unable to care for themselves.  I can't honestly imagine anyone would choose to endure all that if they had a better option. 

Anyway.  I think that's just nuts.  Unless Virginia herself were nuts... But she's not!  She's sharp as a tack.  So no, I don't think it's believable that she'd continue to choose to live that way for years and decades.  Oh, something else just occurred to me!  When Kit's father comes to kill Virginia—and when the house begins to collapse—she still keeps up the act!  Now that is commitment.  She'd rather be murdered or killed in a landslide than let anyone know she can move.  Amazing.