Wanted!

Wanted! - R.P. James WARNING: This review is going to contain some adult language. Most of the adult language is contained in direct quotes from the first few pages of this book, so if you have a problem with adult language, don't read this fucking book.

I found this as a freebie on Kindle today - I basically just bought everything that was free in the romance section. So I see the title of this book and I'm like "Oh god, what? Let's see what this is..."

First person. Bleh.
Double-spaced. Double-bleh.
Narrator sounds like she's writing this story in her journal. Triple-bleh.

Even though I am already hating everything I'm reading by the end of the first page, I decide to stick it out until the first chapter.

Bad idea.

First, we touch on all the various ways our character is superior to all the Southerners around her. With multiple paragraphs belittling music, food, fashion, Southern pride, vehicles, ideals, religion, sex... Okay, okay! We fucking get it! You're so much better than these poor, stupid country bumpkins. 13%*** of this "let me tell you about these redneck morons and how I'm nothing like them" bullshit.

Then, as if that weren't torturous enough, she goes on and on about her super awesome body. This is a direct quote:
Yet the curves of my petite figure flowed and swept like ocean waves, drastically punching out a mesmerizing silhouette, with wide hips and proportions by which Greek statues might well have been modeled. And then there were my tits... Oh, Christ, those tits...

I hate this bitch already. And that's before she moves on to her ass:
And then there was my ass, just the right size, with wide hips, but not too large, the buttocks jiggling readily with any movement I happened to make, so mouthwatering and succulent that, again, any guy who happened to catch sight of me would want to bury his face in my tight juicy ass-crack, and hopefully lodge something else up in there as well...

Are you fucking kidding me? But wait, there's more:
Finally, turning back around there was my pussy... The lips of my cunt were fleshy and flower-like, nice and soft and pink, so tantalizing that they made my own mouth water if I made the mistake of looking at it for too long, and often I would find the lips of my pussy dampening from the mere act of me staring at myself naked in the mirror.

I can't even. This is the most ridiculous character and storytelling I've ever seen. Did somebody write erotica about their fantasy version of themselves and publish it? This is literary masturbation.

Then I got to this sentence and fucking lost it:
All that is to say, I very much had it going on when it came to having the very sort of milkshake that brought all the boys to the yard, if you will.

It's so fucking horrible, I am now officially in love with the awfulness of this whole thing.

I'm totally not reading this trash, though.

*** This is 13% of a short story that has a full length novel attached to the end of it. So I'm not actually sure where in the story I actually quit reading, but it was still the first chapter. But I made the god awful mistake of clicking around to see if I could find the break between the two stories. I did not find it. I did, however, find this revealing quote:
"I want my big brother's fingers in my wet pussy," the words escaped my mouth in a rush.
"Touch yourself for me, little sister."