Sometimes all the ingredients are in
place and in the right proportion. The pace is also spot on. But how the final
dish turns out is entirely on the skill of the cook.
Annie Slocum is a freelance journalist who is living
from cheque to cheque. She’s not exactly thrilled with the work she’s getting
and her last break-up left her with no place to stay so she’s now sharing an
apartment with three other people. One random Friday evening she visits a
collagemate’s gallery to take a look-see at the paintings. She meets one of the
artist’s, Siobhán Murray, and the two hit it off immediately. And they
hit it off so well that Annie only returns back to her apartment late Sunday
afternoon. The connection doesn’t end with that one weekend, but both the women
have issues to wrestle with to actually be together. Annie is bisexual and Siobhán
has been badly burnt in a bisexual relationship. On the other hand, Siobhán has
an unattractive penchant for intense jealousy plus she hasn’t completely left a
past love behind.
We are big, big fans of insta-attraction and insta-love but
the way it happens in this one wasn’t very convincing. In fact, the first time Siobhán
start touching Annie (in a restaurant), we found it rather cringe-worthy. With
the amount of trauma, drama and heat (admittedly sexy sex scenes) we should’ve
liked this book – but we didn’t. We couldn’t connect to either of the MCs and
their relationship left us completely untouched. Annie is definitely nicer of
the two and her issue/s with Siobhán are much more real than the other way
round. In fact, as the story and relationship progressed, Siobhán became more
and more unattractive as a person. There is something about the writing that didn’t
reach us at all. In fact, the most convincing relationships were Annie’s with
her roommates.
This is one of those books that we wanted to like but try as we might, we just couldn’t like it on any
level despite loving the cover.
⭐⭐
