50 Shades of… Yawn.

Ok. I finally broke down. Broke down and got The Book. The Book that every woman in my age group is supposedly swooning over. My opinion? Meh. The writing is awful. Mrs. Brown taught me to write a better story in high school. At least Nora Roberts can create a good plot. His hair is tousled and copper-colored. We get it. Don’t need reminders every time he shows up. The guy can’t comb his hair – got it. She bites her lip a lot. Got it. If there were a drinking game for those two sentences alone it would be bad news. Character development? None. Can’t get past that, thanks to Babs, my other HS English teacher. Ironic, considering that Babs made everything written about sex. Juicy bits? Ok, they’re juicy- but not enough to make me ignore the horrible writing.. Just sayin’… And, yes, I got this on my Kindle. There’s no way I wanted anyone knowing what I was reading. The guys at the office would make my life hell- deservedly so. Won’t be reading the sequel. That’s just my two cents.

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