Dear St. Martin’s Press:
I am writing this letter to you because I have a serious beef with this book and I don’t think its appropriate to direct my ire toward her, but rather you. You are the company that purchased this book and then released it at a cost of $13.99 on the unsuspecting public. I say unsuspecting because there is not an excerpt to be found on the web.
I have suspicions that the lack of excerpt is due to the fact that if one were provided, it would deter sales. One + One = Three is written as if it were a primary school handbook. The story is told in short three to five page chapters written in a dry biographical manner (which is kind of insulting to biographies). Former supermodel Munro opens a bar/lounge, has sex with two super hot, rich guys, and gets threatened in her bar by someone who has it in for Munro.
This ultimately leads to a) the most boring book written, b) the most conflictless book ever written, c) the most shallow characters ever profiled and d) the most unengaging sex I’ve read in a long, long time.
She reached out and pulled him by the tie, which he still had on, along with his shirt. Once their groins made contact, they began grinding in their underwear. She knew that Rock liked to mix things up.
She was enjoying his sensuous approach, and wrapped one leg around his butt, so that his cock was right in the middle of her punanny. They moved in slow motion, feeling each other up, until she could feel him getting harder and harder with each gyration. “Oh, Rock, Baby, your dick feels so good,” she moaned with her eyes closed.
I know that this sounds a bit hyperbolic and I am sure in the annals of publishing history, there are books that are worse. However, if you are going to be tossing around this book and this author as exemplifying the type of erotic romance you guys are putting out, then it should be good, if not damn good.
Munro is a super model who typifies every stereotype of models sans the drug addiction. She’s stupid. For example, she’s nearing thirty and decides to get out of the modeling business and decides to pour all her money into a lounge (she refuses to call it a bar). She does not stint on any luxury. Even her “throne”, as she calls it, ( a booth set up in the back and raised on a platform) is made out of the same leather of Prada handbags.
Speaking of Prada, every chapter includes some random brand name reference. Don’t set up a drinking game for this because by chapter 10, you’ll be soused.
Back to our intrepid “heroine”. So she’s stupid. But she’s also shallow. For example, she hires a hostess who is pretty but a dime a dozen because her bookkeeper is too ugly for the front of house.
She’s deceptive. When her purported best female friend wants to be hooked up with Munro’s friend Rock, Munro does not tell her BFF that Rock and Munro are seeing each other. Instead she says Rock has just broken up with someone and, hey if he were really into you, he would have asked you out. That’s harsh but Munro doesn’t really care because Munro is all about herself.
Which is good that Munro has two men who love “polyamory”. In case you didn’t know what that was, the author provides a detailed explanation from several characters. Some of them claim to be in into the polyamorist lifestyle, but in truth, it’s all window dressing. Also, just because Munro may have had a threesome, she is not gay, folks. The book is insulting and boring.
“No, I’m not gay.” Munro had had threesomes with another model a few times while in Paris, but she didn’t consider herself gay, especially since she and the other woman never even touched.
Then let’s take a look at Dirk and Rock. I mean, come on. What is with those names? Are you punking us?
Anyways, Dirk and Rock could be Dirt and Rock for all the interest they provide to the reader. Here’s a little example:
Dirk’s father lived vicariously through his son. Having married so young, his dad never got the chance to have a carefree life. As a result, he encouraged his son to have as much fun as possible before settling down with one woman.
His father was also an excellent soccer player and taught his skills to his son. Dirk excelled in athletics as well as academics, and was offered a scholarship to Rutgers University. He majored in finance and went on to get his MBA at NYU. After grad school, he worked on Wall Street at a few top-notch firms. Dirk was smart and savvy, and it didn’t take long for him to amass an impressive client list, along with an impressive bank account. Dirk excelled so quickly that he soon reached the “glass ceiling.” Frustrated at the lack of further advancement, he and a couple of his college buddies decided to branch out on their own. BLAC was a small, but powerful, private equity firm, and before long they had billions of dollars under management.
Yes, Dirk’s daddy gets his rocks off whenever Dirk is out shagging some chick. Maybe that’s supposed to be some kink. Actually, it would be more interesting if it was Dirk and his dad polyamorying their way through Manhattan. Gross, but more interesting.
Speaking of interesting, while I love a good word game, reading five pages of the characters playing Scrabble for no reason is beyond dull. I don’t care which Scrabble dictionary the damn characters are using unless it is going to be used to kill one another (preferably Munro). Also, scenes that take up three pages of a non essential character interviewing women to be her assistant is not even filler. You might as well have just typed a;sdfj;alksdj;flaksfj;lksj;dol on three pages and it would have had the same meaning.
So we have a heroine who is stupid and shallow. Two male leads that are less interesting than two day old bread. Is it any wonder that the reader’s pulse is barely moving at this point? What could possibly spice up this story? Can it be saved by the sex? The polyamorous sex? Sadly, it cannot. Because the sex scenes consist of unzipping the clothes, underwear grinding and the cries of “III’M CUMMMMMMMMING.”
“Take … all … of. . . this . . . dick,” he said, in between thrusts.
“Give it to me,” she moaned back.
They each gave as good as they got, bucking back and forth like two prized steers.
“Oh yes, yes, yes, YES!” Munro screamed on the verge of cumming.
“That’s it, Baby. Let’s cum together!” After a few more heated moves, they exploded simultaneously.
Note to the author. Your characters are from Michigan farming communities. One would think that they would know that steers are castrated and incapable of CUMMING let alone CUMMING together by ramming their pelvises against each other.
He kissed her forehead. “I want to make you cum.” Rock increased the pressure until she started squirming and moving her head back and forth. Her movements told him that he was doing the job. “Come on, Baby, don’t hold back.”
“Ohhh. Ohhh Yeah!!” she moaned. After a few more deliberate rubs, she was ready to climax. Munro yelled out, “III’M CUMMMMMING!”
Once she came, Rock climbed on top of her and slowly eased inside her cum-coated opening. Her pussy was so warm and moist that he almost came prematurely, but he fought the urge and continued humping.
(no, that was not me making a mistake about the number of I‘s or M‘s.) Another note to the author, “humping” and “grinding” are often not considered sexy words. Ever. Even inside a cum-coated opening.
Here’s the conclusion I’ve drawn. You don’t think that readers who read erotic romance either like romance or sex. We readers deserve better than this. F