Surrender Your Love by J.C. Reed
My Rating: 3/5 Stars
After the cover of SURRENDER YOUR LOVE flowed through my feed a few times…well, let’s just say I was pleasantly intrigued with more than a hint of enticement. The dark cover and toned legs paired with the thigh high red leather boots more than held my attention. Those boots popped out of my screen like daisies in the snow, and I was left sticking my tongue out as I tried to catch the snowflakes. And I have once again been sidetracked by an erotica novel.
I have every intention of tearing through the mystery and thriller and literary universe only to veer off to the side of the road and stare up at the sky when one of these beauties comes along. That’s probably the best way to describe erotica: A pleasant distraction from the more serious, deeper reads that cover my Kindle and bookshelves. And for you frequent readers, you’re already well aware that I’ve been a bit more distracted as of late. But I can’t seem to help myself. Every time I meander my way back out, I’m shoved back in…and we’re off.
The dialogue proved more than a bit cheesy to me, especially when compared to other erotica novels. It wasn’t porn quality dialogue, but it served to pull me out of the story at times more than it managed to enhance character and character development. I even managed to chuckle inwardly a couple times, and not in a good way. But frankly I’m more interested in the characters, relationship development, and of course, the sex.
Part of my fascination stems from the fact that I couldn’t write a realistic sex scene to save my life. Women, who are much better at sex than men will ever be, write some mojo-inducing scenes that could make a stripper blush. And this novel certainly had a few, with once again, the male anatomy never looking so good. It’s probably safe to say at this point that erotica novels like to round up when it comes to the size of the male member.
Brooke Stewart proved interesting and intriguing, and it was hard not to appreciate her luscious curves. She’s more tormented than Jett Mayfield, and we actually learn the reasons for her anguished nature, albeit down the road a piece. I won’t spoil it for you, dear reader, but suffice it to say, it was a nice twist. Sure, she might be a little fucked in the head, but I actually cared about her. She was a character I could get behind, as I try not to grab her behind.
Jett, on the other hand, was the more committed of the two right from the get go, which was a nice twist. But then he managed to have the usual problems that trouble all men: six-pack abs, toned muscles, and several million dollars stuffed in a safe in Switzerland. And I lost a bit of interest at the size of his growing member.
We also have the tried and true and possibly overused relationship formula for many an erotica novel that began with Fifty Shades and continues to this day. I realize it’s easier to go with the conventional than chart new territory in this playground, but just once I’d like to see someone break the mold. I’d like to see a couple captured by some axe-wielding maniac, locked in a basement, and they have to fuck their way to freedom. Or maybe the friend, in this case it’s Sylvie, who as per the usual course has looser morals than our main protagonist, could have feelings for Mr. Six-Pack, sleep with him, and then our main couple has to work through that particular bucket of firecracker wielding monkeys. Let’s spice it up a bit, or in the case of the latter, flame it up a bit.
Aside from the sense of déjà vu and practically predicting the ending, I’d have to say it was an otherwise enjoyable read if erotica is your thing.