As I am occasionally wont to do (generally for the laughs), I browse the paperback section at whatever passes for a grocery store/drug store and pick out something that catches my fancy. In this case, I grabbed
Crave, by J.R. Ward, an author I'd never heard of, so I picked it on the basis of the cover alone.
I also, in all truth, have completely exhausted my supply of books at home (which numbers about five, currently).
Halfway in, I've decided that I actually kinda like it. It's the second book of its series, which I didn't know when I got it, but since I wasn't going for brilliance in writing, I don't much care. It's certainly not the best piece of fiction out there, but it's decent. The universe sticks to its own rules, and there's hot men who have wings and fighting and general manliness.
On the other hand, the author used 'symbology' as a word. I just about died. Plus, there's a demon called 'Devina', which just makes me think of that bit in Rabb Nesbit when David Tennant guest starred as a soon-to-be woman. And Devina goes to a mortal therapist for actual therapy, which seems a bit odd, for a demon who's trying to take over heaven and earth. She also won't kill kids, but isn't above sacrificing virgins. Seems a bit inconsistent, but then, there's no reason why a demon wouldn't have foibles like being squeemish about killing kids, but not adult virgins.
In terms of writing style itself, it's an easy enough read, though there are waaaay too any sentences with strung-together-phrases-like-this-one, which I would have pounced on had I been editing. And most of the men are actually just the same man in different clothes and with slightly different backstories, except for a couple of the side characters, one of whom is actually interesting, which is a little annoying, but then again - I wasn't reading it in the hopes of finding loveable characters so much as hot men who could fly.
Still - over all, it's performing its function admirably, and entertaining me enough that I don't mind falling asleep while reading, or go stir-crazy with nothing to do when crocheting socks doesn't hold any interest for me. The universe is intreiguing enough to hold my interest (but not my ability to spell, it seems), despite the character flaws, the smut didn't devolve into the 'throbbing member' nonsense that most romance novels go for, and if it wasn't for a...brusqueness and a bit too much modern-world-name-dropping that always ends up dating a book (like tossing in a reference to eHarmony), it'd move out of the 'decently tolerable' category and into the lesser levels of indifference.
That said, 'symbology' was almost a deal breaker - all I could hear is Willem Defoe saying "Ssssssymbolism."
I kinda want to watch Boondock Saints, now...
EDIT: Fixed sentences, cleared up thoughts, and generally mopped up the mess I made when I wrote this while half asleep yesternight. Jan 10, 2011
