My Rating:
Favorite Quotes:
I don’t have a great literary background story for you on how my book hit the big time, or any “awe” love story that pushed me to write it. To be honest, I’m a bartender at a local hole in the wall in downtown Cleveland, Ohio, and I just get to hear and see a lot of shit.
What I didn’t expect was a cult-like following of women to read my book of words and start a hateration on dead-beat men.
I don’t dance. Mainly because I don’t know how to, so this game of who can make who jealous more, quickly starts blowing up in my face, since I look like I’m having a seizure over trying to get hot and heavy on the dance floor.
My love got so messy, it should have come with a cleaning kit. To say it was a bit turbulent at times was an understatement.
My Review:
No matter how carefully I shop, I often come home with a new carton of eggs only to later notice an obvious fissure in one of them. Love Broken was my twelfth J.D. Hollyfield read, and my least favorite of the otherwise crack-free dozen. I started off with a smirk and high expectations, anticipating writing up another 5-Star review for the crafty author I had previously experienced to be cleverly amusing, but my smile and projected rating started to slip, bounced a bit, then plummeted with a grimace for an uncomfortably long stretch while I actively sighed, before finally resuming to a habitable level again shortly before I ran out of pages and optimism.
My chief source of consternation was my lack of appreciation for the irritable main character of Katie, and all the brooding, conflict, and angst she mired herself with. I had adored previous readings of Ms. Hollyfield’s amusing work and had aspirations of liking this one as well, so I expended a considerable amount of energy while endeavoring to find some admirable traits in the cowardly Katie. However, other than her witty snark and euphoric sexual chemistry with the cut, buff, and swoon-worthy character of Charlie/Chase, I found Katie rather tedious and exasperating; the annoyingly cranky and immature type of personality I actively avoid in real life. Katie was bitterly insecure, bitingly bitchy, irresponsible, and tiresomely stubborn. I couldn’t fathom why the besotted Charlie/Chase would bother with her, other than the explosive sensual gymnastics they performed. Sizzle and snap! They scorched the sheets!
Don’t get me wrong. Love Broken was not a bad book, just not as balanced or engagingly entertaining as I have come to expect from the talented wordsmith. Despite the periodic sparkles of clever humor, I read with a darkening sense of personal disappointment that blossomed into dire discontent, which then morphed into disenchantment and near despair, but I ended on a higher note of relief with the desirable destination of a satisfying HEA conclusion. Could I have possibly added more d-words to that sentence?