Between the stuttery, decade-old dinosaur I’m typing this review out on, and an impending move slated to change my whole entire life as I know it in less than two weeks, my reading time has been slashed by more than half. I haven’t gotten the chance to curl up with a book in awhile, much less browse the Kindle app I have installed on all of my personal tech, as every good bookworm does. But yesterday, I had a little bit of time to myself, and I was feeling lucky, so I bought a random ebook off Amazon: Irish Devil by Donna Fletcher, the first in a historical romance duology.
The first book co-stars the terrifyingly sexy Lord Eric of Shanekill— a bloodthirsty warrior whose reputation precedes him— and the Lady Faith— a beautiful, kind outcast with a gift for medicinal work— okay, you know what, it should actually go like this:
Irish Devil stars Lord Eric of Shanekill, a demanding, pouty man-child who doesn’t actually sever any heads or anything cool during this novel, but everyone’s terrified of him anyway (it must be his deep voice and his temper tantrums, usually brought on by his own pig-headedness). Co-starring this Medieval malarkey, we have Lady Faith, as physically beautiful as she is stunningly cliche. I mean, it’s a romance novel, but really? Fletcher didn’t even try to make Eric or Faith engaging. I imagine she found a checklist of “Successful Romance Tropes,” online and went through it like so.
MY HERO MUST BE:
HANDSOME
EMOTIONALLY WOUNDED
SEEKING A GOOD WOMAN TO BEAR HIS CHILDREN, DAMMIT
POSSESSIVE (but it’s SEXY, I SWEAR)
STRONG AND SCARY (because it amps up his sex appeal)
FUNNY
GOOD IN GENERAL DESPITE HIS MANY FLAWS
MY HEROINE MUST BE:
KNOCKOUT FREAKIN’ GORGEOUS
THE RECIPIENT OF A TRAGIC BACKSTORY TO BOOT (bonus points if she was sexually violated in some way so she can realize she wants to give herself to the hero)
KIND
STRONG
FAIR
ADORED BY EVERYONE EXCEPT HER EVIL FAMILY WHO SHUNS HER
HER EVIL FAMILY MUST INCLUDE EVIL STEPSISTERS AND AN EVIL STEPMOM\
SHE MUST GRACEFULLY ACCEPT ALL HER HARDSHIP AND TRAUMA, AS SOON AS SHE SLEEPS WITH THE HERO, IT DOESN’T MATTER ANYMORE.
Check, check, check. Except I don’t even think that Fletcher can honestly tell you she’s happy with this book, because with Irish Devil, her checklist actually looks like this:
ERIC ACTUALLY IS:
A CARDBOARD CUTOUT
WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR SHALLOW EMOTIONAL PAPERCUTS, YOU MAN-BABY?
HOLY SH*T CAN YOU STOP TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO KNOCK THIS WOMAN UP WITH YOUR “SEED?” YOU’VE SAID IT SO MANY TIMES, IT’S JUST ANNOYING NOW, AND QUITE FRANKLY, I WOULDN’T TRUST YOU WITH A DEAD FISH, MUCH LESS A CHILD.
OH MY GOD GET OVER YOURSELF, FAITH DOESN’T BELONG TO YOU.
WOW, YOU’RE NOT STRONG OR SCARY AT ALL, YOU JUST GET BROODY OVER THE STATE OF YOUR WIFE’S VIRGINITY FOR OVER 200 PAGES, I WANT TO THROW THIS BOOK IN A FIREPIT AND WATCH IT BURN.
IS THIS AN ACTUAL MAN OR JUST A POOR IMITATION OF ONE?
SERIOUSLY.
But oh, my friend, it gets worse.
FAITH ACTUALLY IS:
MARY-SUE ALERT
WITH A COMPLETELY MISHANDLED SEXUAL ASSAULT THAT’S TREATED LIKE A SCARF. SHE WEARS IT WHEN IT SUITS HER AND THROWS IT OFF WHEN SHE WANTS TO GET DOWN WITH ERIC, THERE’S NO LINGERING TRAUMA WHATSOEVER.
OF COURSE SHE’S KIND, SHE’S A MARY SUE.
BORING. SO BORING.
ADORED BY EVERYONE, PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE’S ABOUT AS REMARKABLE AS VANILLA AND NO ONE ACTIVELY GAGS AT VANILLA.
OF COURSE HER FAMILY SUCKS, BECAUSE THAT JUST MAKES HER MORE INTERESTING (it doesn’t, her family are just a bunch of d*cks)
IS THIS AN ACTUAL WOMAN OR JUST A POOR IMITATION OF ONE?
SERIOUSLY
The Irish Devil was basically Fletcher saying the same things over and over again, her limited material ranging from wanting to have sex, having sex, and having children. Oh, also plenty of repetitive depictions of scenery, because why bother finding new ways to describe something when you can just punch yourself in the face for 20 minutes instead?
If given the choice between reading this book and reading a book about a manic pixie dream couple who falls instantly in love with a totally irrelevant love triangle tied into a paper-thin plot: sign me up for the manic pixies, I apologized to my wallet after buying this poorly-written, repetitive, bland, ass-backwards book. On the bright side, I read the entire 329 pages in 24 hours, so that’s . . . nope, still not an accomplishment.
But it’s not a total loss! My friend found a recipe for apple cinnamon cupcakes earlier in the week, and they are absolutely delicious.
Try them out for yourself here.
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