Remember so long ago when I got a boxful of books from Curled Up, I played Let’s all guess which cover made my husband pee himself? The game wasn’t fair because I didn’t let you all see this cover. Would you not be ashamed to be seen reading this in public? Yes.
If you want a glorious mess of cliches, like bad-boy ex-boyfriends named Jake the Snake, or Marines who say things like ‘abso-fucking-lutely,’ or a blind man sitting on the stone steps of the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence, at the feet of a copy of Michelangelo’s David, singing plaintively about a lost love while the liquid, weeping sound of an unseen violin picks up the melody from some open window (that last was almost verbatim), then this is the book for you.
If you can’t get enough of attractive people having tumultuous relationships complicated by their tragic pasts, if you’re dying for a story of a woman surprised by her own…shall we say, urges, and a man so startled by his feelings of GENUINE LOVE! that he resists this previously-staid woman’s urges just long enough to build up some glorious sexual tension before engaging in red hot ex-Navy-SEAL-getting-it-on, then man! You need to buy Freefall.
If you live off of trite, obvious pop-cultural references like iPods, Titanic posters, and Kiera Knightley-look-alike waitresses, if you like to see your endings coming a mile away despite the hail of red herrings, if you like your psycho killers to have unnecessary sexual deviances, then dude, I will send you this in the mail.*
However, if you are even the least bit snobbish about what you read or if you care at all what your grandmother thinks of you, maybe you should take a pass, my friend.