To Go: 21
71. The Truth About Delilah Blue — Tish Cohen
72. Onstage, Offstage — Michael Buble
73. Various Positions — Martha Schabas
74. Flesh and Blood — Michael Cunningham
75. True Evil — Greg Iles
76. Gone — Michael Grant
77. Fools Rush In — Kristan Higgins
78. Ice Blue — Anne Stuart
79. Lucy Gets Her Life Back — Stef Ann Holm
Red Duck, Idaho, may be just a speck on the map, but it’s perfect for a hardworking single mom looking for a good place to start over. Arriving with recipes, ambition, a silent prayer, and two teenage boys, Lucy Carpenter is ready to cook her way into the hearts and wallets of celebrities who frequent the nearby ski resort and watering holes.
But she needs somebody to put the word out — and that somebody is Drew Tolman, former pro baseball player turned local big shot. She’s heard the rumours — scandal, women, and more — but he’s the man Lucy needs on her side. It takes a little effort and a lot of decadence — in the kitchen — but words of Lucy’s culinary talents spreads like melting chocolate.
Soon everyone’s got Lucy’s number but her best caller is Drew. He’s eager to convince the deliciously tempting Lucy that she’s the dessert he’s been saving room for…
Barring the almost painful cliche that synopsis left off on, I actually really liked the book, which was a surprise for me — given what Sahar had told me about it when she loaned it to me, I thought it would be a mind-numbing, stupid read. It wasn’t.
There were a couple of different plots going on, not all of them romance-related, which was nice, and I also liked that the two main characters were closer to middle aged, and both had children — you don’t see a lot of that in romance fiction (which, I believe, is probably because it makes the inevitable hook-up a little more complicated, and as the author you have to deal with the ex-spouses).
My only issue, and it was a minor one, with the book was the extended descriptions of Drew in various states of dress. I mean, I like men as much as the next straight girl, but lay off the descriptions. When you’ve got paragraphs soliloquizing about how toned his calves are, I believe that’s an issue. It’s like Stieg Larsson — figure out what is plot relevant information, and disregard the rest. I do appreciate a couple of mentions of how damn good looking Drew is at age 46, but I don’t care about the chiseled, bronzed state of his pecs.
I also feel obliged to ask, what is up with romance writers and the deep south? Not to scorn half of the United States or anything, but I’ve never really seen the distinct appeal for having almost all books of a romantic nature set in the southern states. More often than not, it just makes it easier to have the male characters throw out endearments like “sugar” all the time and not have them seem creepy. (It still seemed creepy to me.)
At any rate, not a bad read at all!
Next book: another one of Sahar’s loaners, or one of the three new books I bought today. :3