Paaatty: Alright. Lemme just start this off by saying I cannot take a shark shifter seriously when I keep pronouncing his name in my head as “Cohen-rad”. Like he’s my surfer accountant. Which begs the question: can I take a shark shifter seriously otherwise?
No.
Kaaatie: I was pronouncing it Kohen-raahd. Why do authors insist on using these odd spellings? I don’t understand. Out of curiosity, I googled sexy shark images. There is some truly disturbing shit out there.
Paaatty: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? That’s like the time my kid asked me to spell “naughty” so he could Google Santa’s list. NEVER DO THAT.
Kaaatie: You have NO idea how much I regret it. These weren’t even close to the worst. Monroe, the heroine, keeps talking about shark dude’s eyes, how different they are. Gurrrl, those are cold, dead shark eyes. Run. Run in the other direction as fast as you can. Dude is thinking about raking you with his shark teeth so the other shark shifters know you’re his. NO. JUST NO.
Paaatty: Now, I’m no marine biologist so I can’t comment on how/if a shark customarily gnaws on his life partners but I have lived in the Caribbean. This is how I know that unless you live there full-time/365, you do not “throw on a pair of jeans” like our tourist heroine did. It’s bloody hot and humid and if you aren’t used to it, jeans are not a thing you will tolerate.
Also, the water is like, stupid warm. You don’t wear a wetsuit to go snorkeling, Monroe. And while we’re on the subject: your name sucks. It’s like your parents wanted to name you Montana but got confused and now you’re named after the president who is responsible for Florida happening. Not something to brag about.
And REALLY? You are alone in a foreign country and think hopping on some stranger’s yacht – with no other people on board and after you’ve admitted you can’t swim – is being “adventurous”? Your ex-boyfriend whateverhisnameis was right in dumping your stupid ass. You are the kind of girl that ends up putting the lotion in the basket.
Srlsy. There is only one image that can fully encapsulate this crapfest: Fun fact: I can’t swim. Grew up on an island, never learned.
Kaaatie: In the spirit of full disclosure, I can’t either. My boobs get in the way. It’s like I have my own personal flotation device at all times.
Paaatty: If I were adrift on a lifeboat and was told I had to read this again in order to get rescued, I would hop overboard. There was just no point to it. No take-home lessons. I learned nothing about shark shifter culture, there was no indication as to whether the shark shifters are better lovers than, say, lobster shifters and I’m still unclear about what part of his body morphs into the fin when he shifts.
Kaaatie: Y’all. This one’s on me. It’s… not the worst I’ve ever read, but it is worse than Kristen Ashley. Those at least attempt an actual plot. This one, not so much. It’s free on Amazon, but I want my time back. It’s also a cliffhanger so you’ll buy additional installments. I hate it when they do that. (Not so much with “real novels,” but with this short, theoretically sexy but not really, shit.)
Paaatty: I feel we should do some punny thing with Shark Week but honestly, this doesn’t deserve the effort.
Kaaatie: Seriously. I may need to take up the *name redacted* mantle for awhile. We had Charlie the Tuna and Jabberjaw stuff ready to go, but I can’t bring myself to waste it on this.
“You are the kind of girl that ends up putting the lotion in the basket.”
This had me laughing so hard. Thank you for giving me this delight of a review to read when taking a break from correcting badly written Norwegian essays.