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Hilary T. Smith
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Bryan Peterson

Fall Guy (Youngblood, #1)

Fall Guy (Youngblood, #1) - Liz Reinhardt It’s not a good sign when I can’t concentrate on a story because all I can think is this:I believe that there’s a time when most writing rules can be broken, or at least bent to a certain degree, but this was not the occasion to disregard that pithy advice to “kill your darlings.” Reinhardt’s darlings are not only alive and kicking, they appear to be multiplying at an alarming rate. This book is riddled with similes. And analogies. And overworked descriptions. The writing is laboured to the point of being distracting from the actual story, a problem that might have been fixed or at least curbed with tighter editing. By way of example:“His voice is a midnight cannonball into a winter-frigid lake, and the chills that rush up and down my spine leave me shaky.” – Can anyone tell me what a midnight cannonball actually is?“.. for a second Winch does nothing at all, which makes relief and sadness tango cheek to cheek in my heart.” – My feelings must have two left feet. “My voice whips out and smacks at the lazy night air. His eyes, so dark denim blue, feel like they’re soaking up the puddle of all my crazy emotions.” - I suppose denim is pretty absorbent. “Brenna’s laugh is the chocolate fudge, whipped cream, and double cherry on top to the sad vanilla boringness of my life.” “He talks like he’s some blue-face-painted warrior used to commanding legions.” - I can’t even talk about that one. “He’s the path lined with wildflowers, and I’m Red Riding Hood. I’ve been warned, but I just can’t resist the blossom and perfume that calls me over.” “My heart is a pod of dolphins beaching themselves on the rocky shore for no apparent reason.” - There was no apparent reason for that sentence. “My heart had been warming like a surfer’s contained bonfire, but his words are the gasoline that’s exploded it into an arsonist’s wet-dream.”“His eyes snap at me, like your loyal dog trying to warn you there’s danger ahead, willing to bite to make you listen.”“I take my furry foot back out of the trap and get ready to hop into some clover.” –Honestly, this one went on so long I tuned out. Something meaningful about rabbits and traps.. “I look up at her face, but she hasn’t recognised the ugly constellation for of all the dull stars I’ve thrown into her sky.” – I hate when people throw ugly stars in my sky. Bitches. “If she wasn’t so damn beautiful, I’d say he looked like a bull I just waved a bigass red cape at.” – I wouldn’t, Winchester. (WINCHESTER.) I really wouldn’t say that if I were you. “Brenna’s like a little kid drooling over her favourite candy in the bright store window. I’m like the dentist randomly showing up with a drill to remind her she has a mouthful of cavities.” – Because dentists often show up randomly. (Also, Brenna was such an insufferable twit in this book.) “A lazy-afternoon sunshine glow unfurls low down between my hips and blooms up my spine, climbing fast and high as a magic beanstalk to my heart.” – Well which is it, a sunshine glow or a beanstalk? Also, growing a beanstalk in your nether regions sounds like cause for alarm to me. “That our relationship won’t be a tug-of-war or bumper cars or a roller coaster or any other kind of fairground/theme-park analogy my brain can concoct.” – Oh come on Evan, I’m sure you can come up with another one. “I smile at her tendency to hyperbolize when things get bad.” - Okay, now that’s just the pot calling the kettle black. “I force the sugared-up tween hopping from foot to foot in my secret heart to cut her happy dance short.” - Nothing is more annoying than a pesky internal tween doing a jig. Then there’s the repetition: emotional as hell, boring as hell, hot as hell, honest as hell, strong as hell, sure as hell, pissed as hell, slick as hell, scared as hell, depressing as hell, scruffy as hell, tired as hell, wounded as hell, crazy as hell, rude as hell, funny as hell, hard as hell, sexy as hell, determined as hell, tough as hell, confusing as hell, dirty as hell, fast as hell, nervous as fucking hell. Are you sensing a pattern?While ostensibly this book has a plot (family secrets and obligations! A girl with bad boy issues!), it feels like it was written BECAUSE SEX THAT’S WHY!** And that’s fine. I just expected more.If you enjoy plot lines of the “I want you but we can’t be together” type, back and forth misunderstandings, and several instances of near-sex before the.. main event, then by all means, go right ahead. But I got to a point in this novel where I simply didn’t care anymore. I had no investment in the conflict and the plot, and the question of whether the characters would surmount their difficulties became completely uninteresting to me. It doesn’t help that the secondary characters all feel like plot-devices, poorly developed and popping up when necessary to prevent Winch and Evan getting into each other’s pants happily ever after. The story asks that you buy into a slightly absurd premise, that Winch always takes the fall for his drunken trainwreck of an older brother’s misdemeanours and criminal activity, by dictate of The Family, which might have worked better had it not been so thinly developed, serving more as filler in between the lengthy make out scenes. However, those are merely my personal issues with the book and they won’t be a problem for everyone. I suspect that many will enjoy this book for precisely the reasons I didn’t.