Uncovered – Emily Snow aka how to read between the lines

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Rating: 1 Star
Type: NA
Steamy: no just endless boring sex scenes

Maybe I should start a „what to read next poll“ like the much recommended Romance novels for the beach blog did (well if I had more followers that is – no offence to my existing ones I am very fond of you) in order to avoid picking up such a bad book as I  did -again. Seriously something must be wrong lately with my receptors in the brain or I just suck at reading between the lines. So this review is all about reading between the lines!

To start with, I found the following description intriguing:

My name is Lizzie Connelly, and I have it all. The gorgeous apartment. The new job most women would rip out their own souls for—working for Margaret Emerson at Emerson & Taylor. I have one of those lives you’ve always dreamt about, the kind you only see on HBO. But, the thing is, that life is a lie. A façade.

It all started with one call. “Everything you know about your story—your father’s story—is a lie. It’s up to you to uncover everything.” One call, and I turned my world upside down to dig my way into Margaret’s life—the woman who I’d never laid eyes on until recently. My stepmother who took everything after my father died fourteen years ago.

The plan was simple—figure out what role she played in my father’s death and expose her to the world.

But here’s another thing: simplicity doesn’t exist, and my plans are flawed from the beginning because I never anticipated Oliver. Sexy, too smart for his own goddamn good, and infuriating, he’s the one person who could blow my plans to uncover Margaret. She’s his mother, and in another life, that would have made him my stepbrother.

I want to pretend that none of that matters, that I can simply finish what I came to do without sparing him a second glance and another thought.

Like I said, though, there’s no such thing as simplicity.

My real name is Gemma Emerson.

And this is my story.

If I would have been able to read between the lines I would have read the following instead of this horrible book:

My name is Lizzie Connelly, and I have it all. Well true she has a Prada bag on which she brags a lot in the book. The gorgeous apartment. And Victoria’s Secret seamless underwear and Joe’s jeans … yes we get that stop showing off. The new job most women would rip out their own souls for—working for Margaret Emerson at Emerson & Taylor. Sounds a bit like the Devil wears Prada? Just cross the bit – it is! I have one of those lives you’ve always dreamt about, the kind you only see on HBO. Please just stop copying the Devil wars Prada. But, the thing is, that life is a lie. Nah your life is just bad fiction. A façade. … full of clichés.

It all started with one call. “Everything you know about your story—your father’s story—is a lie. It’s up to you to uncover everything.” Yes that happened in the book. Right at the beginning when the story was still interesting. One call, and I turned my world upside down to dig my way into Margaret’s life—the woman who I’d never laid eyes on until recently. Aka the Devil wars Prada boss. My stepmother who took everything after my father died fourteen years ago. Oh I don’t even want to start with comparisons here.

The plan was simple—figure out what role she played in my father’s death and expose her to the world. Simple. Easy. That’s what I do every second Thursday.

But here’s another thing (another?): simplicity doesn’t exist, and my plans are flawed from the beginning because I never anticipated Oliver. Well I did anticipate it, it is a romance novel after all. Sexy, too smart for his own goddamn good (who wants to read about a dumb stinking guy with a bear belly anyway?) and infuriating (yeah but not in a good way rather in a I knock you over and drag you in my cave uggah uggah I am the alpha male), he’s the one person who could blow my plans to uncover Margaret (you did not have a plan you stupid girl to begin with).

She’s his mother, and in another life, that would have made him my stepbrother. Well she married your dad so technically he is your stepbrother…

I want to pretend that none of that matters, that I can simply finish what I came to do without sparing him a second glance and another thought. Rrrrright, so you end up sleeping with your stepbrother (in this very world not in another where he still would be your stepbrother). The very same guy that bagged more girls than you see bags at an end of season sale! Without. A. Condom. For the next book – since brand names are apparently important – try those: Durex, Trojan, Beyond Seven, Blausiegel (for the German readers).

Like I said, though, there’s no such thing as simplicity (or decent writing in this case).

My real name is Gemma Emerson. Whatever! You had unprotected sex with this douchebag of stepbrother.

And this is my story. Which no one should bother reading.

 

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