While Geissinger is generally talented at writing sex scenes, hence the two stars, that wasn’t enough to redeem…
They jump into bed with each other at just 20% into the book, which effectively puts their entire relationship on fast-forward. ❌ The insta-lust between the characters is incredibly off-putting. Instead, she’s all emotion, all the time. For someone whose life is falling apart, and keeps having weird things happen to her, she’s not logical at all, and doesn’t even try to apply a sense of reasoning to what’s happening. But I mean, she has a bachelor’s degree in fine arts, yet she’s never heard of THE Dante? She actually thinks the guy has made up the name at first!! She also doesn’t know what anagrams are, and overall many of her actions throughout the book feel kind of slow. To some extent we can assume the author has deliberately written her that way, because even the hero makes a crack about it. I’m not a fan of the structure either, which included first-person POV chapters from characters who AREN’T EVEN THE MAIN COUPLE, and tried unsuccessfully to reflect the tripartite structure of the Divine Comedy. the hero’s ‘eyes shine with adoration’ – seriously? There’s just a general stiltedness to the prose which made it a bit of a slog to get through. Here, things are constantly told instead of shown, e.g. Unfortunately, the prose here was a bit irksome – surprising, as I’ve read a couple of Geissinger novels before, and found them bearable. ❌ I can forgive a LOT if I’m placated with decent writing. She starts receiving letters from someone signing themselves ‘Dante Alighieri’ (aka author of the Divine Comedy) and then encounters a roofer named Aidan Leighrite. (Look closely here…)Īt the same time, weird things start happening to her, she’s losing track of the past, and just generally her life is collapsing around her. The book opens with Kayla Reece attending the funeral of her dead husband, Michael, who’s recently left her a widow. When I found out why, it was already too late.Īnd nothing on earth could have prepared me for what happened next.īecause I’m sorry, there are only TWO BOOKS in all existence where I’ll accept both protagonists dying as a HEA, and this is NOT one of them. We went back and forth, exchanging letters every week that grew increasingly more intimate. I said we’d never met, but he said I was wrong. I told the mystery man he had the wrong girl. Out of simple curiosity, I wrote back to ask him what exactly he was waiting for. It was signed by Dante, a man I didn’t know. It was postmarked from the state penitentiary, and contained a single sentence: The first letter arrived the day my husband was buried.
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