I was persuaded to try and read Alice Clayton’s books again, after seeing the multiple rave reviews from some of my fellow bloggers, whom I obsessively follow. NBJ says “I have been smitten with Alice Clayton’s brand of funny ever since her Redhead days, one of the few authors I know capable of making me cackle and sprain my wrist fanning myself all at the same time, and this story was all I hoped it would be—sexy, uplifting, and downright hilarious.” ——— Personally, I don’t the feel the same.
In fact, I feel the exact opposite:
- There’s nothing “hilarious” about Ms. Clayton’s writing. It’s corny, repetitive, and boring. In Nuts, she uses the same corny schtick over and over: bees flock towards and repeatedly sting Roxie, her heroine. On bees, Roxie constantly repeats: “bees are assholes.” The first time a bee buzzed around her, she literally climbed up Leo’s torso and unwittingly smashed her crotch on his face while swatting the bee from her periphery. Wow. Was I supposed to laugh out loud at that? What’s so funny about it? How could she physically do that? Why didn’t Leo push her away after the awkward climb? I don’t get it.
- The sexy scenes? Boring.
- The heroine? Annoying.
- The hero? Boring. And, stereotypical. Leo’s a former NYC poor-little-rich-boy who found himself in love with a gold-digger, then dumped her after overhearing her brag about her conquest of him, and, oh, he’s a single dad. Now, normally, I love single dads in my romance novels. But, Roxie and Leo? I didn’t feel the connection, TBH.
I hated Ms. Clayton’s Wallbanger. I should’ve listened to myself, rather than others, before buying this damned book. I’ve also deleted Cream of the Crop from my e-reader and GR TBR list, which I feel bad about, because I just wasted money and I thought that a “BBW + stoic, manbun-wearing dairy farmer” story would be better. However,
So disappointed: both in myself, and in this book.
Reading another Alice Clayton would most likely lead me to commit suicide, hence, the deletion is tantamount to saving my mother some heartache over potentially losing her favorite child over an intense case of book-hate.