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(More customer reviews)Here We Go Again:
Tell me what series I'm talking about:
28 year old underemployed woman (who graduated in the 93rd percentile of her college class) with a penchant for attracting dirt, grime, easy cheese goo and olive oil. Prefers to wear jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes.
Spunky semi-narcissistic sidekick with big dreams but little desire to do the work to achieve them. Constantly searches for shortcuts and can't follow directions or a recipe to save her life. Incapable of showing up to work on time. Over the top wacky.
Monkey with a middle finger which he uses at least 3 times a chapter. If you're looking for a good drinking game, try a good shot of bourbon every time Carl the Monkey flips a naughty bird.
Eating. Lots of it. Cupcakes and meat pies and muffins and ..... well you get the idea.
Explosions - In this case, a house. Farts.
Adults with admitted attraction for each other who fondle, lots of ear kissing, ponytail tugging, warmth in the nether regions, snuggling in bed at night but nothing beyond that.
My problem is this, Wicked Appetite isn't necessarily a terribly awful book although the humor does cross the line into annoyingly silly on more than one occasion. It is however a book of gags that I've already read from this author numerous times and chances are you have also. I've read it so many times that my reaction to reading it again hovers right between irritated and annoyed. Its like hearing your 4 year old niece repeat the line to a knock knock joke for the 74th time ("Orange Ya Glad I didn't Say Banana?") No. No. No. Not funny anymore, somebody SAVE ME!!!!
The last thing I need is yet another series for me to buy every summer wondering if this will finally be the book where something different happens. Thankfully, I have absolutely no emotional investment in these characters and no reason to become invested because I already know where this series is going. The rest of this series will be .... Pretty much .... The exact same book again.
I think it is time for a new Queen of Summer Chick Lit to be crowned. Hopefully St. Martin's press is out there looking hard for her. The Queen is dead, Long Live the Queen.
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