Patty: Well. So that happened. Welcome to our first CBR review of 2017.
Katie: You know it’s going to be at least interesting when Patty messages you to buy this book because it’s off to a good start and then not 12 hours later messages you again because she’s making this face when reading the sex scenes.
Whereas I was all…
Just kidding. I really had an expression more like Patty’s.
Patty: Our heroine, Elise, is working on her PhD in archeology. She’s also working on uncovering (PUN #1) the truth behind her father’s mysterious disappearance. Using the former as a means to dig (PUN #2) into the latter, she finds her way onto the Blackwood Estate – her father’s last known whereabouts – under the guise of surveying the land for Native American artifacts.
Blackwood is named after the family that owns the land. Located in the heavily wooded outskirts of a small town somewhere in Tennessee (or Mississippi? I don’t know, some place where they eat grits and use “sugar” as a term of endearment), the estate and surrounding lands also boast SECRETS; a bearded recluse living in a broken down Victorian house; a skeptical, but friendly sheriff; a dirty, crazy, town hobo; and the added bonus of soul-piercing screams that can be heard in the woods at night.
Katie: SO, you’re hoping you get beardy William Hurt…
…but you’re willing to settle for Joaquin…
….and you wind up with Adrien Brody.
Patty: The mystery had a creep factor of 1,000. The author did a great job of setting a tone of unease that permeated every chapter. I kept wanting to yell at the characters to look over their shoulders because something was out there. Even the most seemingly benign scenes were tense and unnerving.
Katie: #truth The creepy factor is there from the very beginning and DOES NOT let up.
Patty: Katiekins, be a dove and tell me again: how do you feel about cookies with raisins in them?
Patty: That’s right, they aren’t your cup of tea. As a matter of fact, I believe there isn’t a bucket large enough to hold the torrent of vomit that you would spew should you inadvertently bite into what you believe to be a chocolate-chip cookie, only to sink your teeth into a mealy, wrinkled, ex-grape. Now, some people love raisins. I have been known to enjoy an oatmeal raisin cookie. I make a killer cranberry chutney which has golden raisins as one of the ingredients. Nonetheless, I can understand someone else dry heaving at the very thought of ingesting dead fruit. To each his own and all that.
Therein lies my problem with this story; we’ll call it Raisin Sex. Not my thing. Maybe someone else’s, whatever floats your consensual boat. I mean, a well-placed spank – I mean, raisin – in one bite of a cookie is all well and good; but if your raisin to cookie dough ratio is off and you find yourself choking on a dic – RAISIN – or if it hurts to have se- swallow the cookie – I’ll have cake.
Katie: To be fair, they do warn you in the description that this is a BDSM novel. HOWEVER, and I say this without judgement, playing escape and evade in a creeptastic forest followed by being forced to choke on dick after receiving a beating is not my idea of fun smexy times. Even to read about. And look, trolling the free to 99 cent romances on Amazon means I come across a lot of bizarre shit. I mean, look at this puntastic masterpiece:
Katie: It’s creepy as fuck. Elise has literally no one she can really count on. Everyone has ulterior motives. IF (and it’s a BIG if) you can get past the off putting sex, there’s a decent creepy read to be had. I can’t really recommend it, but I would like to read a straight up thriller written by this author.
Patty: Minor spoiler: the resolution of the mystery is some fucked-up shit. Think prunes. Well done but messed up. THIS IS WHY I DON’T GO CAMPING.