If you took the first half of this book, about two hundred forty plus pages, and shoved them through the nearest shredder, you might have been left with a pretty good book.
Unprepared to take up the role as guardian to an ancient stone and Alpha to their pack, Gideon escapes to the USA for some peace. Only to be attacked by wolves sent by his cousin, Malachi. Wounded and bleeding, he is drawn by a strange yet familiar scent to the back door of a bookstore, and is found by Carly while still in his wolf form.
Despite the constant, unnecessary descriptions constantly lagging the story, the true detail that kept chafing my skin was the although Gideon was a *Scottish* werewolf, there was nothing *Scottish* about him.
And I do love my Scots' accents and terms. Too bad there wasn't a single bloody one.
No comments:
Post a Comment