So Then I Read a Shiloh Walker Book. Story. Kindle Thing.

Thanks to a shout-out from SB Sarah earlier this week (including issuing a link to this blog which, previously, exactly 3 people have read), I have felt a particular pressure to write something lovely and witty and welcoming to potential new readers.

Only I couldn't think of anything to write about.

I have very little time to read these days, so the TBR list including 2 Vanity Fairs (though Michael Douglas might just have to deal with having a lower priority than Grace Kelly), a paperback pile that's at least 30 high (hello, library book sale!), and library books that, you know, have to be returned, are all vying for my 100% divided attention. In addition to the previously encouraging boyfriend who now suspects that I need to be checked into some sort of book-buying rehab.

I am currently reading The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag, the second Flavia de Luce novel by Alan Bradley and it's as delightful as the first one. However, like the first one it is taking forever for me to finish, but it's due back to the library next Thursday, so fine. I'll be writing about Flavia and the sulfur injected chocolates next week.

Having spent most of last night in luxurious laziness reading Flavia, I made the mistake just before bed of going back to the Shiloh Walker book I had downloaded (oh yeah, add the downloads to the TBR list... dammit) and started reading on my miraculous Kindle for iPhone while waiting for an appointment yesterday afternoon. It's called Her Best Friend's Lover.

Full disclosure: I am a complete, lame-ass loser push-over for books that involve a) pregnancy (let's not delve deeply into that, shall we?) and b) soul-shattering, "I have loved you forever but haven't been able to tell you", aching, desperate love stories. If you know the ones I mean, you know the ones I mean. Her Best Friend's Lover included these elements, so saying I didn't like the book is way untrue. I liked the book the way I like watching Flavor of Love... when I find it I have to read it, in an embarrassed, "yes, I'm reading this, and no, I don't want to talk about it" kind of way.

All of that said, this book had some serious problems for me, quite aside from the bizarre editing errors that a sixth grader could have found and corrected.

First of all, it reminded me of another shameful book on my Keeper Shelf, Led Astray by Sandra Brown. Yes, I have two Sandra Brown genre romances on my Keeper Shelf. AND NO, I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. Both books feature a pregnancy based on... mysterious sexxorating, let's say. In Walker's book, the hero and heroine are BFF, he gets really drunk one night and they have sex, only he doesn't remember (first that it happened, then that it was her). She gets pregnant and doesn't tell him he's the father because she doesn't want to trap him... blah blah blah.

Sandra Brown's plotline (the heroine gets pregnant by her fiance's brother because he comes in the room, it's dark, and she thinks he's her intended... I told you. No talking about it.) at least has the excuse of being genre, and 80s, and, you know... Sandra Brown's plotline. Her Best Friend's Lover Kindle version was published in November 2009, and I would have expected a story that's at least more... modern.

Forgetting the stupidity of the no condom, no birth control thing (as discussed last time... it's what makes her special to him. Or something.), we need to discuss the stupidity of the characters for a moment. Like, Hi Dale (that's his name, Dale). You had a mysterious sexual encounter with a woman you can't get out of your head, and three weeks later, your best friend turns up pregnant. Not only that, but every time you... um... smell your best friend, it gives you flashbacks to your Mysterious Encounter. WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED THAT YOU ARE THE FATHER OF HER CHILD?

And you, Lauren (that's her name... Lauren). You know that you had sex with him. So can you please explain why you're jealous of an "unknown entity" and think that your best friend (now husband) is in love with someone else? Just because he's never mentioned his Mysterious Encounter to you directly doesn't mean that he has no memory of that night. Except that it does, because if he remembered, he would know it was you. Ugh.

There's a lot of torment and angst and a danger-riddled delivery (Dale also pulls the classic Sarah's Child douchbaggery and leaves on a trip during the third trimester, right around the time Lauren's not feeling well and showing early signs of pre-eclampsia. Duh.) and then more angst and "oh he doesn't love me because he's being distant" and "oh she doesn't love me because she's being distant" and "we are being distant because we're emotional wackjobs."

Needless to say, while the first half of the book had me all guiltily atwitter with the bad romance-ness of it all, the second half made it all a little... lame.

Because seriously kids. All you needed was one honest conversation, like, 9+ months ago, and all would have been fine.