Welcome all my babes, to the first edition of WEIRD-ASS BOOK OBSESSIONS where I, your friendly neighbourhood bitchy nerd, will talk about whatever latest bookish obsession has gotten hold of me. Mostly these particular posts will be related to me going all Gaga over genres I (usually) avoid like the plague. So let’s begin shall we?
This month is gonna be all about.. you guessed it (because I hope you’ve already read the title of the post)…
.. because Valentines! No not really, but it does go well with the whole love is in the air theme, that I am pathetically late for.
You guys, I think I might be possessed by some sort of horny-ass of a demon straight from the depths of Lustville, because I cannot get enough of men. And more men. And more men.
And I don’t say that in the physical sense.
Fuck, that was so damn cringey (that sad attempt at humor I mean of course), but you gots to believe me ladies. You gots to believe me.
Let me start from the beginning. So you see, sometime earlier this month, I felt like trying out a new author, and since I’ve been eyeing Jane Washington for such a long time, I rolled my dice and picked up a book without even looking at the genres. And from then on it was hell.
I read three series this month. Three entire series wiped out in a matter of days. And all of them Reverse Harem. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, because as some of you might already know, I prefer my books to be more on a serious side than ridiculous. And that is exactly what I find most RH books to be— utterly obnoxious, and completely bogus. AKA zero respect.
But having said that, I also felt a really strong need to read some stories where the most serious discussion of a relationship was who got to go first with the girl, or who was the “favorite” one of the single girl of the group.
Hell, I got so into this genre, I actually even joined a facebook group dedicated to Reverse Harem. You know now that is a commitment.
It started with one book, which went to one series ,which went to 12 fucking books spanning three series, and four authors, all of them featuring more men than I would practically know what to do with.
And to say my life ain’t entertaining enough.
Let’s see them shall we?