From the author’s description of this book, I thought I was
in for a freaky erotic read. Taint ain't
about that. I had some hope when I read “Google that shit” in the first chapter
– because I use that line in my own life, so must be good, right?
Wrong.
The premise is fascinating at first: women are sent by their
husbands to learn how to be more giving in the bedroom. Remove the prude. What’s
that old quote? “A lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom?” Unleash your inner slut for your man in private while maintaining your role of the socialite, the appropriately coiffed, classy,
and devoted wife in public.
On Day 1, he tells them “You suck at sex…you don’t satisfy
your husband sexually, which is why he wants to cheat on you, if he hasn’t
already. You may be a fantastic wife, mother, homemaker, whatever, but you are a lousy lover. And that trumps all”. And Justice
Drake, a “consultant” is going to teach them how to rectify that. The MEN send
their wives to this uber-seclusive resort to get in your face training by
Justice Drake. And they go. Willingly.
So, who exactly is Justice Drake? In the beginning, he’s a
total douche-canoe. He’s an ass-hat. Crude, and egotistical, (he describes
himself that way) he’s brash, in your face, and the women in this book just go
along with what he’s dishing out. According to Drake:
“Women want a man that
will get down and dirty. They want tenderness, but crave to be banged like a $2
hooker. They want a man that’ll go all night but still have the energy to kiss
and cuddle and talk about their feelings afterward.” Is that what women really want?
And men? Well, in the world according to Drake:
“Men are simple
creatures. You have to be what they want. You have to offer what they desire.
And if you aren’t what we want, we find something – or someone – we do.”
Um, okay.
So, back to the point. The women are there to get sexed-up.
The training includes how to dress with sexy lingerie, sexy dancing instruction
from a pair of strippers, self-pleasure techniques compliments of a medical
student, a tantric sex couple performing a live demo to show the women how to
act during the act. On and on….and the women, just go along with it, slowly
becoming less embarrassed and less disgusted with his techniques. Never
questioning, except one. One of the women, Ally (Allison) Carr, calls Drake out
on his bullshit and guess what? He’s intrigued by the intelligent red-head who
not only questions his standards, but bucks the standards of the socialite
society set upon her with her un-nipped and un-tucked body, complete with red
hair and freckles that haven’t been bleached by the dermatologist. She openly challenged
him, didn’t give in and conform to his standards, and is quite defiant,
opinionated, and has her own personality. I liked her. And she had names for her boobs (that's the second book this week with boobie names!). Of course, he is
attracted to her, but must maintain his professional relationship with all the
women despite the obvious sexed-infused temptations around them all day.
Drake admits that he is not careless, knows his boundaries
and doesn’t cross them with the women in his program. But he can’t resist Ally.
What starts as simple banter and conversation turns to flirtation and desire.
“Kissing Ally would be
so easy. Touching her, holding her, tasting her…it’d be like breathing. I want
to breathe. I want to inhale her in every way possible. I want her life to
sustain me, her heartbeat to synchronize with mine…She deserves better, and I’m
not better.”
There’s hints (some obvious) that he’s not what and who he claims
to be. So just who is the real Justice Drake? You don’t who he really is until
the end of the book. And THIS could have
been teased out and make more of the drama. Instead, most of his story is about
the internal conversations of Drake and his wussy ramblings about sunshine and
freckles. Dude. Really?
“When you spend your
life in the dark, looking up and wishing for something better – something brighter-
you don’t realize how lonely you are. Not until the sun shines, spreading light
on all the empty spaces filling them with beautiful warmth.” And “Can I spend every night counting her
freckles, like I once counted the stars?” Seriously? Dude. Dude. You’re supposed to be bad ass. Or just an ass.
A douche. A dick. Even Ally once calls him a “douche-nozzle” but…. Whomp whomp
whoooooommp. He’s not. It’s all an act. He’s all soft and wussy inside. LOL.
It’s told from the male point of view – also not the norm in
this type of book (what type of book is this? It’s filed under contemporary
romance btw). From my experience, men
don’t talk like this. They don’t. Okay, I’m not an expert on ALL men, so maybe
there are some out there, but not the ones that I know. My man has occasional
bouts of squishy, but never has he said I’m his sunshine spreading light across
all his darkness. I’ve read a handful of
books from the male POV, and they’ve never been this wussy. Maybe it’s just me,
but I want my men to be manly. Big bad asses with a soft spot for their women. They
can be sweet, but not wimpy. Not weak or lacking in confidence. Drake needed to
man the fuck up in a big way.
The most refreshing line in the book is from the chef, Riku.
“Fuck that. I want a woman that eats.
Someone I can cook for and feed while she’s curled up next to me in bed. Ain’t
shit I can do with a bag of bones. I mean, have you seen most of them? Shit, if
they turn to the side, they fucking disappear. I’ll take tits and ass over
Skeletor any-damn-day.”
Finally, a real man! And
he mentioned Skeletor. Real men that want women with real bodies. Hmm. What a concept. Thank goodness that I have a man like Riku –
force feeding me Texas BBQ and deserts all damn day and night. And wouldn’t you
know it? He just came home with my favorite lemon cookies!
Personally, I would have much preferred to cut to the end of
the “training” and continue the story with Justice and Ally, when they’re deep into their deceptive
relationship with her cheating on her husband with the sex-coach he sent her
to, and him cheating with, well, everyone it appears, THEN drop the bomb of his
identity! BOOM! That’s the drama! Plus, let Ally have a bit more of a brain.
She’s described as a Columbia educated - she stands up to the ridiculousness of
Drake’s teachings and ideologies, but she stays with her cheating bastard
husband? Has enough confidence to be herself with a goofy personality and
endearing quirks, eat what she wants (ice cream and chicken and waffles), has a
shameless obsession with Friends, yet feels guilty when she’s attracted to
someone else? Sorry, I didn’t get it. This just didn’t jibe.
In all, it’s not a terrible read, but not my favorite. Want to read for yourself? Visit Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or other book retailers.
On a side note: The bio on S.L Jennings states that she’s
recognized from her “starring role in a popular sitcom as a child”…Who and What?I really did try to Google that shit and couldn't find anything. Maybe she used a different name then. Or now.
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