Secret Sins

I had to give up on this Lora Leigh romance novel at the end of chapter 7.   Generally I will read (aka skim) even a bad novel to the end just to see how the plot untangles itself, etc., but I couldn’t stand one second more of this book. ICK!!

The first LL novel I read was awful, plot-wise, but the sex was super-hot, so I thought she’d be a good writer to go back to occasionally to re-motivate myself. I get writer’s sex-block ~ I find there’s only so many ways to say the same stuff and then I’m all, what now? And then the second LL novel continued a complex convoluted Callahan family thingie that interested me from the standpoint of having an ongoing saga-like connection from book to book, though each should stand alone, which is kinda my idea for my RNs as well. Not that I have a family drama saga idea, just some peeps working at an investment type place, not that I go into much detail about that, because ~ finance gah! boring!

Anyway, Secret Sins. My god. AWFUL WRITING. She drags out a sex scene for miles, chapter after chapter, with the sheriff hero guy getting called away twice,  ridiculous (right, that happens!), on and on, purple prose like in the old days, the heroine a virgin, but screaming in ecstasy the whole time, because that’s how it happens, yeahsure, on and on, until I wished the bad guys would have just killed them, not that I even knew who the bad guys were yet, except for Gran’pop, that heartless bastard.

But the worst thing of all? On the cover of the book is a picture of a beautiful woman with medium-length strawberry blonde hair, but the heroine Anna? She has cascades of long black hair down to her waist.

Unforgivable. I am done with Lora Leigh.

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5 responses to “Secret Sins

  1. Are you sure Anna didn’t walk past the mirror in the foyer and stop to look at herself, momentarily pleased at the way the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass window above the door washed her hair in strawberry golden, light? Maybe you skimmed over that part . . .

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  2. I was thinking of you the other day while proofreading some of the worst sex writing I’ve ever seen in my life…and I’ve seen some bad stuff, believe. me. This writer described the aesthetic effect of the heroine’s Brazilian wax job as “the enticing half-smile of her naked hot box.” Um.

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    • You know, I bet it often happens that bad sex inspires people to think of me.

      ::drumroll::

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    • AD - Smile Connoisseur

      “The enticing half-smile of her naked hot box.”

      I’ve been giggling about this all day. I’m totally using it somewhere. I’m thinking the first line of a poem. Or an album cover title. Or one of those incomprehensible goth/hipster tshirts, distressed, fading white lettering on black with ellipses on each end:

      “…the enticing half-smile of her naked hot box…”

      And “Smiling Hot Box” is, without question, the best new band name to come along in a while.

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