The author seems to think narrative concerns are a dread notion. The boredom created by this book impedes enjoyment. Eric broods meaningfully over swiftly escalating misunderstandings. This was all zestlessness as Eric Carter has weary disapproval, complicit guilt and a redemptive challenge.
I’m profoundly uninterested in Eric Carter and his questionable reputation, churlish hostile responses, self proclaimed bad ass reputation and comfortable assumptions. I don’t care about his moral rectitude, adult insecurities, false attributions and poisonous rifts. This started out okay but quickly got weak. It is perplexing that a book that had to be rewritten is still bad.
“So, you’re saying it doesn’t like me.”
“She did try to kill me, though. Which to be honest, is not that rare an occurrence.”