I managed to temporarily get past my severe aversion to snakes to read and actually finish this book. You’d have been proud of me, Ma, I only had to restrain myself from vomiting once! Was all my hard work worth it? In parts, yes, but mostly, not so much. I have never met a hero so repulsive and obnoxious, yet kind of hot at the same time. I was so conflicted! He calls the heroine a slut, a bitch, a whore, and “pet,” treats her like a prostitute, is an all-around dickweed to everyone else, and yet there was something sexy about him. Could it be that he could transform himself into a ten-foot anaconda? No, that can’t be it. Snakes are gross, period. All kidding aside, even if every single character in this book weren’t part-time reptiles, I don’t think I could have given this book a higher grade because every single person in this book is thoroughly unlikeable. The heroine is a simpering, giggling (she giggles a lot) fake bad-girl type whose one issue is… get this… the type of snake she is. *sigh* There’s just too much smirking, snarling, growling, and all around posturing in this book, but doesn’t pack a lot of mental or emotional punch. I will admit, as much as it pains me, that the sex is hot. Read it for the sex alone, especially if you like your sex scenes darker, with lots of slapping and name-callling. Be prepared, however, for the shoddy editing and the numerous grammatical errors. I printed this thing out to read during my Victorian Themes: Sexual Repression class and I gotta tell you, my red pen and I went to town.

Our heroine Carmen is a rogue snake. Unlike other snakes, she doesn’t have a nest to live in. She goes from town to town with only her backpack, often grifting or pick-pocketing just so she can have money to eat and finance her travels. Her parents died when she was very young and her brother, who was supposed to take care of her, killed himself. Carmen has learned over the years that the only person she can count on is herself and finds it hard to trust anyone else. She usually doesn’t stay very long in one town before moving on because nest snakes tend to try and draw her in. But Carmen gotta be free. You can’t keep Carmen locked up in a nest somewhere breeding out snake babies! Carmen tells herself that she doesn’t want to be a nest snake because they seem to have a “cult-like mentality” and would probably just cramp her style, but deep inside, she is very lonely and often wonders if she shouldn’t just find a mate and settle down. Unfortunately for her, she is a viper, a venomous snake. Even if she did find a nest that she could live with, the other snakes would probably turn her out or kill her the second they find out what she is. In her world, venomous snakes are mistrusted by other snakes.

Our hero Reece Evans is an anaconda, the only anaconda in their nest and the resident “bad boy”. He is also apparently a player who cycles through women like dirty socks. Man, I hope whatever allows him to transform into a snake also protects him from sexually transmitted diseases. This Prince Charming is always on the look out for a “bitch” to bang. He often hits the popular bars and nightclubs, always on the prowl for some new poon to satisfy his voracious sexual appetite. His first encounter with Carmen had me laughing. He is totally that guy in the bar who expects you to give him something just because he bought you a drink. Eww. Anyway, he sees Carmen dancing seductively on the dance floor and immediately approaches her, thinking she’s a piece of ass that he definitely wants to tap. They make out, Reece gets a boner, he invites Carmen back to his hotel room, and Carmen agrees to go with him. Only she tells him she has to go to the bathroom real quick first. Reece smirks, rubs his hands together, and waits. And waits. And waits some more. Reece scowls. Reece checks the pockets of his pants and realizes that the bitch stole his wallet and the keys to his Ducati. Reece is angry, but impressed. Later on that night, he receives a call from the city jail. It’s Carmen. She was arrested and needs Reece to bail her out. Reece rubs his chin pensively, scheming in his head about how he could turn this situation to his advantage. He smirks. He goes to the city jail and pays the five hundred bucks for Carmen’s bail. He gets Carmen to promise to stay with him at his nest for a month. Carmen agrees. He smirks. She giggles.

First thing’s first: grown women shouldn’t fucking giggle. Ever. You know who giggles? Thirteen year old girls who’ve figured out the dirty meanings of the lyrics to Justin Timberlake’s “Sexyback”. And heroes shouldn’t smirk so much. You know who smirks? Assholes. Especially assholes who slip roofies into girls’ drinks and watch with glee as the poor sluts guzzle them down. Smirk is just an ugly word, period. It doesn’t just imply smugness; it’s an ugly, puerile frat-boy smugness that’s just not attractive.

Speaking of assholes, just what is Reece’s deal? For three-quarters of the book, he insists that he’ll never be the kind of guy who’ll settle down, yet we never see the reason behind it. Why is Reece so resistant to commitment and matrimony? What is his motivation for banging chicks and tossing them out like garbage night after night? He sees women as playthings, doesn’t seem to respect them as humans, and even audaciously calls his new mistress a “fucktoy”. What is his childhood trauma? He’s like the bastard love child of Andrew Dice Clay and Rush Limbaugh. Is he just a worthless sack of a human being, plain and simple? Surely a man in his late twenties has grander aspirations in life. Speaking of aspirations, why is he so rich? He doesn’t work, doesn’t seem to have any hobbies or interests that make money, and yet he has enough cash to have an expensive, exclusive lingerie boutique shut down to other customers just so he and his mistress can shop by themselves. What is your deal, Reece? Help me understand you! Help me like you! Help me hel—- Oh, dear science! ::appalled gasp:: I think I just figured out what women see in this guy. He’s wealthy, good-looking, apparently has a large penis (he isn’t an anaconda for nothing, you know), doesn’t expect anything from anyone, and likes to buy women everything they want. Plus he’s got that whole “I don’t need you, bitch” attitude that stupid whores with low self-esteem eat up like waffles slathered in whipped cream and fresh strawberries. Who wouldn’t want this guy? He’s that dude that has perfectly intelligent women fighting each other for the chance to take him in and “change” him. Dear Science, he’s that guy. They’ll forgive him for anything because he’s got nice teeth, a Ducati, and lots of cash. And he’s a superhero in the sack. Forked tongue. Eww and oooooh at the same time. Conflicted is me.

Okay, we’ve figured out Reece, but what’s Carmen’s malfunction? She’s a submissive, clearly, and is more than willing to surrender herself to Reece’s “tough love” ministrations, but why is she the way she is? She’s like the lost-little-girl that you want to take in and shake at the same time. She’s supposed to be tough and street-smart, but she radiates a weakness that makes you want to kick her in the head. She’s just so desperate and clingy like a wet Chihuahua, yet she also puts up this false bravado, telling you that she can handle herself when she clearly can’t. If this were Victorian literature, she’d be the girl dying of consumption and wasting away in a dark room somewhere. I really tried, but I could not like this girl. She reminded me of that old folk story about a farmer who comes across a viper dying in the snow, so he takes it home and sets it down by the fire so it could thaw itself out. The second the viper is fine and dandy, the first thing it does is strike the farmer on the arm. I think the farmer dies. I forget. Anyway, she’s the wounded animal that you hesitate to save because you know once it’s up and running, it’ll probably steal your silver and run away. And eat your left-over pizza. While giggling. A lot.

You know, I read a previous book by the Sisters Price and while reading this one, I recognized a theme. The women are whores. The men exploit them, but makes it all okay by buying them things. As Carmen herself points out in this book, it’s like Pretty Woman, but dirty. I think the Sisters Price may have tapped into something here. We all have dirty fantasies we’re not so proud of. Rape fantasies, concubine fantasies, slave girl fantasies, hooker-who-gets-saved-by-a-rich-john fantasies… sometimes they work out, sometimes you end up on Law & Order: SVU. I think the Sisters Price here could develop their niche in the “dark fantasies” department, but it won’t work if they don’t dare explore the psychological as well as emotional aspect of it. They have to be able to explore the characters more fully, elaborate on what makes their characters tick, and convince us as readers that these are characters worth reading about. As it is right now, it is all so very superficial. It’s like an expanded, fucked-up Letter to the Penthouse complete with were-snakes and stuff and it has no heart. No soul. It’s a story you read out of sheer perversity ’cause you want to see what a book with were-snakes would be like. Sure, that’s a good hook, but the story has to be able to reel you in and make you want to stay.

Oddly enough, though I didn’t like either characters and thought the story could have used a lot more “fleshing out” outside the bedroom scenes, this is one series that I want to revisit. The Sisters Price have interesting ideas and I like that they dare to “step out of the box,” so to speak. They write dark romances with seriously flawed heroes and seriously fucked up heroines and if they ever decide to delve more deeply into their characters, I think they could seriously produce some quality stuff. What I do like about Reece is that even though he’s a total asshole, at least he knows it. He doesn’t pretend to be otherwise. I think the story would have definitely worked better if the heroine hadn’t been such a wet dishrag who’s so desperate for affection that she’d readily surrender her self-respect and give in so easily to the hero’s demands. If she’d been feistier, maybe even willing to kick him in the nuts or tell him to get bent, then maybe we would have had something. It wouldn’t be much, considering how deeply flawed the story is, but it’d be a good start. It’s certainly a testament to this book (or my sheer perversity) that I was able to finish it even though I fucking hate snakes. The Sisters Price definitely get points for daring to try something different. C- for this one.

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 16th, 2006 at 11:32 am and is filed under Books, Grade: C, Romance: Paranormal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.