Either the romance novels available everywhere have taken a wrong turn or I am too old to enjoy a cheesy love story. These are the only two thoughts that occurred to me as I swiped through a Kindle unlimited recommended Romance novel. I was looking for a light read to pick me up. A simple story where two people fall in love, do cliched things for each other and perhaps live happily ever after. Instead, I chanced upon a novel that neither had the language prowess to make me relate to the character nor the imagination to raise my endorphins. I wondered, whatever happened to the Romance novels?
The story (or the lack thereof)
A girl is struggling to make ends meet by running an inherited inn on a breathtaking isolated island. A guy, a rude business tycoon, wants to buy off her property so that he can expand his hotel chain there. For some unknown reason, despite technology, he personally ventures into the island to get his deal done. And as you might have guessed, the hero and the heroine meet at a local bar. And what is described as “falling in love” is actually a semi-pornographic description of their carnal maneuveres: both of them looked ultra hot. Duh!
The trough in the story is of course when the girl comes to know he is actually “that” person. And the rude CEO has miraculously transformed into a caring, loving guy who has no desire for money. Apparently, good sex can do that to people!
I was still rolling with the story but the conclusion literally blew my mind. They have made the inn super successful and the guy has now renounced the rest of the world to move to the island with his love. The guy and the girl get married, produce two babies while the girl is pregnant with a third. And the ending scene is when they have sex in the ocean while their two kids play inside their dreamy beach house. I mean at this point I had given up on the novel.
I was not expecting a P.S. I Love you or Love story from this book. I was expecting a Mills and Boons maybe. Like where it kind of bullshits you to believe that blue-eyed heroes with six pack abs can be sensitive. I had chosen the book based on glorious reviews. But this was more like a subplot for a rejected porn movie. The fact that I am not even naming the book corroborates the fact that I don’t think it qualifies to be one. Now I am afraid to try to pick up a book and at least be able to laugh about it! Nope … some of these “romance” novels are so trashy that it wants to make to run back to my sociopathic murderers and serial killers and hug them with tears of joy.
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