Shane was a race car driver was used to fame and the women that came with it, until his accident where he was horribly disfigured. He needs a pretend girl-friend and hires struggling actress Angela to fill the role.
Business only. No hanky-panky.
That's the end of my description for this book. Now, for the meat of it....
Here's the thing: Overly descriptive narratives will kill a book for me faster than a speeding bullet. It wasn't really the story line or the premise (though that one was a far reach as well but I could have forgiven it if the writing was any better).
Everything was handed to you by the author. I mean EVERYTHING. She gave it all away in the character's thoughts and none through their actions or dialogue. And a lot of the stuff in there was nonsense that didn't contribute to creating an environment or the story....just noise that wasted your time.
Sasha had seen the papers and Angela had had to explain it was nothing serious, just a PR thing as part of a new project she was about to take on. It was at times like this Angela was glad that her father couldn’t really follow the news or gossips for now. She wouldn’t have been able to explain how come she was now dating a famous racecar driver that none of her family members could meet.
Angela wandered into the kitchen and picked a couple of the delicious ready-made courses the chef had waiting for them in the fridge. She learned he came in a few times during the week to whip up different dishes from a menu Shane picked out. Shane leaned toward heart-attack-on-a-plate meals with lots of red meat and potatoes. Always watching her weight, Angela was glad to find a few healthier meals she could enjoy. She wondered how hard it would be to convince the chef to cut back on some of the fatty meals. It couldn’t be healthy for Shane to eat the way he did. Unfortunately she wouldn’t be around long enough to find out. Pushing that thought aside, she finished with lunch, eager to see what the rest of the day would bring.
This goes on and on and on...for chapters at a time. Just the author TELLING you stuff. No inference, no guessing, no reading into it.
Oh, and the cheese....it wasn't even on the side. It was right on top...extra helpings of it.
The book is filled of awkward dialogue followed by even more awkward internal monologue.
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