For as long as August Cates could remember, his dick had ruined everything.

So begins probably one of the most boring romance books I have read in a while. And I’m not even 100% sure what put me off. Was it the weird combinations in phrases?

At thirty-five, August was broker than a fingerless mime.

Or maybe it was the way the stud (ex NAVY SEAL!) felt about his lovely woman interest?

Was he in love with Natalie? No idea. If the key to her happiness was at the bottom of the ocean, he’d strap on some flippers and goggles to dive down and get it. If she showed any signs of illness, even a common cold, he would consider bringing her to the ER. If she asked him to dress like Zack Morris at Halloween so she could dress like Kelly Kapowski . . . he’d already have suggested it first. Did all of that equal love?
To him? Yes.
He loved her. Really, really bad.

Or maybe it was the way the author chose to write in the same monotone voice for both her characters and the lackluster sex scenes

She raked a hand up and over the distended crotch of his dress pants, stroking him firmly through the material.
“My turn.”
“Blow job?” he asked, hoarsely. Openly hopeful and visibly shocked.
She nodded.
“Oh. Okay. Wow. Jesus.” A monster shudder went through his giant frame and he dropped fully onto the bed, his muscular chest rising and falling at a rapid rate.

The book has tons of good ratings and some of the sellers are asking (£40 for it!). So I might just be a minority here.

Urgh. Also, the man in this book, doesn’t talk. He growls.

“Wait for me,” he growled.

“Natalie,” he growled through his teeth, storming into the house behind her.
“Fuck yes,” he growled
“Then sit,” he growled through his teeth.
“That does it,” he growled into her neck, kissing her soft skin in between each word. “You have to sleep with me tonight. That’s your punishment for trying to kill me.”

I don’t think I’ll pick up anything from this author again..