Title & Author: Road to Nowhere, by M. Robinson
Summary: One-dimensional bad boy whose primary vocabulary is the single word “fuck” has daddy issues–both kinds.
Cover & Title:
Some books should come with warning labels. Unfortunately, this one actually did but I didn’t realize until too late that it was the title warning me that this story was going nowhere.
Also, the bad boy on the cover, who vaguely reminded me of Merle Dixon from The Walking Dead, looks to be an adult, but the story dumps you (literally) into the lap of a not-quite eighteen year old. Eww, minors and their narcissistic sexual fantasies!
As the underage fantasy/foreshadowing creeped me out, I read faster and faster trying to get this over with. There are several instances of awkward sentence construction that literally made me slow down and rubberneck in awe, as if I were contemplating a crime scene. For example: “Causing a gasp to escape from her lips…” Really? We need all those words? The writer couldn’t just write, “She gasped” or “Gasping, she (hopefully did something interesting, but no luck).”
Besides mechanics, the one glaring error I found was that the writer wrote “stalky”, but since she was desperately trying to describe a big strong man, I guess she meant “stocky”. Really can’t call that a typo, though; that’s just a poor grasp of spelling and vocabulary.
The reader is introduced to the bad-boy seventeen year old Creed Jameson as he sits on his motorcycle outside a club and tells a woman to suck his cock. He is arrogantly sure “she craves it” even as he recognizes in the same paragraph that all these women want to gain status through him because his daddy’s the prez of the motorcycle club, the Devil’s Rejects.
Someone’s been watching way, way too much Sons of Anarchy and confusing it with research. There are many identical characters ripped straight from the small screen, right down to the setting of the club in a machine warehouse.
Juxtapose that to meeting Mia Ryder, who is ten or younger. Her whole big wish in life is to wear a pink bikini. Mia has about as much personality as a Japanese blow up doll.
When reading a romance novel, do you really want to be transported to a ten year old girl’s birthday party with the uneasy suspicion that she is the love interest? The reader is subjected to pages and pages and pages of Mia’s juvenile point of view where nearly everything is prefaced with “Mommy this” or “Daddy that”; instead of building character, this only adds to the uneasy feeling that the reader is being inducted into a stalker/kidnapper/child bride conspiracy. More than half of the story is watching Mia grow up so that the writer can stage a sex scene with our foul-mouthed “hero”.
And that is just gross.
Note: Repeatedly using the word “fuck” does not a) count as a plot device; or b) constitute the sum total contribution for dialogue; or c) convince the reader that a character is wise beyond his years.
Best of the Rest: (zero)
The best part was when I gave up right before the sex scene between the two principal characters. After having such a close-up view of Mia’s childhood but seeing no emotional maturity or development of child to woman, I think this would have scarred me for life.
Total Steam Factor:
I would give this a negative rating if I could, except that sadly, I actually have read worse.
And what the hell, how is the average rating 4 stars??